Temptation Island (9 page)

Bracing her courage, Carm placed a trembling hand on the doorknob. 
Time to see what you’re made of Carmen.  Don’t let Kate down.

Carm smoothed her hands down her jacket and inhaled.  On the release of air she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Her eyes fell across the spacious room to the man sitting behind the mahogany desk and froze.

“You bastard.”

CHAPTER SIX

How could it be? 
Carm didn’t want to believe her eyes, but couldn’t deny the truth.  The man she’d married and the man responsible for helping put her sister out of business were one and the same. 

William Stokes was Marek.

Anger and betrayal ripped through Carm with ugly force as she took a step further into the room.  A prickling sensation started at the back of her eyes and she blinked rapidly.  No way was he going to see her cry.

Marek remained silent as she struggled with her control.  Carm hated the assessing, searching look on his face.  The bastard should be down on his hands and knees begging her forgivness.

Carm took a deep breath and released it slowly.  Practicing her yoga breathing in attempt to calm down, Carm mentally counted to ten. 
In, two, three, four, five.  Out, seven, eight, nine, ten.
  Repeating the calming technique until her racing heart slowed Carm studied Marek.

The devil wears many disguises
.  A far cry from the easy-going man in the hammock, this Marek looked every inch the shrewd businessman.  Now he wore power and wealth like a heavy cloak.

Marek held up a hand and flashed his fancy watch.  The damned Rolex should have been a dead giveaway that he wasn’t a hotel employee.  Hell, he probably owned the thing.

Marching over to the large, glossy desk, Carm placed her palms flat down on the smooth surface and leaned forward.  Looking Marek hard in the eye, Carm growled, “You son of a bitch.  You’re ruining my sister’s life.  Fix it and fix it now, or I will make your life miserable, I swear to you.”

Irritation flickered in his cold green eyes.  Not a trace of warmth or humor remained in the icy depths.  “While I admire your passion Carmen, I don’t take well to being threatened.”

“Oh, I’m not threatening Marek.  I’m promising you.”

Marek lifted the ballpoint pen in his right hand to his lips and seemed to contemplate her words.  “Well then, it appears that’s the second promise you’ve made to me in twenty-four hours.  Aren’t you just full of them,
cheri
?”

Carm saw red at Marek’s mention of her wedding vows to him.  Spewing forth a string of curses, Carm straightened and looked down her nose with disgust.  How could she have ever thought he was anything other than a bastard?

Carm raked her eyes over his crisp pale blue linen dress shirt and scoffed, “You wouldn’t know the first thing about promises.  The only thing you know about is lying and deception.”

“Watch what you say to me Carm—“

“Or what?  You’ll have me flogged?  You are a liar
Marek
.  Wait, that’s not even your name. You let me believe you worked for the hotel and were a musician.  You put on a great act too because I bought it.  All you’ve done is lie.”  Carm folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

Marek pushed away from the desk and stood, sending the leather chair spinning.  “You think I’m the only one who’s lied?  That I’m the only one who didn’t disclose all information?  What about you?”

Carm scowled and began to pace, “What about me?  I didn’t lie to you.”

Marek made a sound of disbelief, “Sure you did, sugar.  Think I would have come anywhere near you last night if I’d known you were a virgin?”

The harshness of the words hit Carm like a freight train.  It hurt to have that thrown in her face.  Her stomach took a greasy roll and Carm turned her back on Marek.  She let her gaze roam the spacious room. 

It was a fabulous space she had to admit. Light wood flooring spanned wall to wall with vibrant rugs scattered around the room.  Two deep cushioned brown leather chairs faced the marble fireplace.  Some gorgeous pottery had been placed around the room on stools and shelves.  Huge palm plants added the final touch giving the office a professional but breezy feel.  The artwork that graced the butterscotch walls was tasteful and bold, a mixture of contemporary pieces and landscapes.

Too bad it belonged to such a pig.

Spinning around to face Marek she demanded, “Why did you lie about your name?”

Marek stood before the floor to ceiling windows looking outside at the lawn.  At the sound of Carm’s voice he turned and locked his eyes on her.  Without warning a jolt shot like liquid fire through her blood.  The man was too gorgeous for his own good. 

“I didn’t lie Carmen.  My name
is
Marek.  William Marek Stokes.  I haven’t gone by William since I was in diapers.  I only use it now in a professional context for my business.”  Leaning a broad shoulder against the wall Marek added, “And as for the rest, I thought you’d be a one night stand,
cheri
.  I didn’t feel obligated to divulge information.  Oh, I see that offends you.  Tough. You should have known the rules before you played the game, sugar.”

Oh, it felt cold and shallow the way he put it.  The man didn’t have a sympathetic bone in his body.  He just kept the insults rolling.

Wanting to throw something at his thick head, Carm looked around and spotted a nice clay urn. 
That’ll do
.  Before she even made a move toward it Marek stopped her. 

“I wouldn’t do that, sweetheart.  I’m fond of that piece of pottery there and I’d hate to have to throttle you for breaking it.  Now, why don’t we sit down and discuss this whole business like adults.  That
is
what you came here to do, isn’t it?  Or had you planned on throwing things until I agreed to whatever you wanted?”

The man was a rat.  A dirty, filthy rat.  How could he read her mind like that?  She
had
intended to do whatever it took to make the owner of Blue Mist Coffees see reason. 

Glaring daggers across the room at him, Carm had to reluctantly admit she was impressed by the change in him.  With his professional attire of slate grey slacks and blue Oxford shirt and his hair subdued he little resembled the man that had walked out of her hotel room that morning.  With the change of clothes brought a hard edge to his personality.

She was beginning to understand how he could make such a heartless decision about Kate.  He was able to because he had no heart.

At length Carm responded, “Fine.  We’ll sit and discuss this like civilized adults.  Before we do that I want to say that I think you’re despicable, unfeeling, and a lousy human being.”

“Good.  Now that we’ve exchanged pleasantries lets get down to business.”  Marek pushed away from the wall and returned to his seat behind the desk.

Carm stared at Marek.  The man was unflappable.  And it irritated the hell out of her.

Huffing, Carm sat down in the high backed chair and waited.  Impatience got the better of her, however, and she blurted, “You can’t pull your business from my sister’s coffeehouse, Marek.  I would hold you personally responsible for putting her out of business.”

Marek sifted through some papers on his desk and said without looking up, “From what I understand it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if she did go under.  She’s been handling her affairs poorly and immaturely.  Her husband feels it would be best for me to withdraw my support so that I don’t feel any effects of her ill behavior and before she tries to con me as she has her other business partners.  I cannot fault his logic.”

Outraged, Carm spouted, “What are you talking about?  Kate is a talented, shrewd businesswoman and she’s been handling her affairs brilliantly.  Her
ex
-husband is lying to you.  There are some personal grievances between them and he’s only trying to get even with Kate.  Surely you won’t believe him without all the facts.”

Marek looked up and frowned, “What is your last name?  I haven’t had time to look at the marriage certificate.”

“It’s Hogue, but that has nothing to do with Kate and her café.  Can we get back to that?”  She smoothed her hands down her thighs and frowned.  What did her last name have to do with anything?

“Hogue, is it?  Interesting.  Is it German?”

“It’s Scottish.  Ugh, I wasn’t going to dignify that with a remark.  My sister, remember?  I’d really like to discuss your plans for remedying the problem.”

Marek leaned back in his cushy leather chair.  Carm felt her face heat and her blood pressure rise from his intense perusal and shifted her eyes to the floor.  It didn’t seem to matter that at the moment she despised everything about him, her body was determined to respond favorably.  Damn her fickle hide. 

He had the most exotic pair of eyes she’d ever seen and they turned her on.  It was unnerving as hell and it pissed her off.

Tipping her chin at a defiant angle Carm braced herself and looked him in the eye and waited.  Apparently they were going to have a little battle of wills.  Well, let the games begin, ‘cause she wasn’t backing down.  Not until he agreed to what she wanted.

For a tense moment they stared hard at each other in silence before Marek spoke. 
Ha, sucker!  Made you give first. 
Carm did a mental happy dance at that victory, small as it was.  At this point she wasn’t above a little juvenile behavior.

Releasing a heavy sigh that could have parted her hair it was so strong, Marek spoke, “Do you want to do this here or would you rather continue this over a nice glass of lemonade out on the patio.  I for one prefer the patio.”

My, aren’t you the gracious host? 
Biting her tongue Carm agreed with a nod, “Lemonade please.  It’s a gorgeous afternoon and I’d much prefer to discuss this outdoors.” 
Where I could easily dispose of your body if need be.

“Very well, follow me.”  Marek stood and brushed past her, his shoulder briefly touching hers.

A spark of electricity tore through them and he stopped directly in front of her.  Glancing down Marek settled his gaze on Carm’s parted lips and murmered, “Very interesting.”  He surprised Carm further by skimming the back of his long fingers down her cheek.

Jumping like a skittery rabbit from his touch, Carm burst out, “Lemonade!” 
Smooth, Carm.  Very smooth.
 
Now he knows how he affects you. 

Well, how could she play the unaffected ice queen when his touch made her melt like ice cream on a summer sidewalk?
 
She really needed to work on that.  She couldn’t stand him, she had to remember that.

Carm took a deep breath and began a mantra in her head. 
He’s a jerk, he’s a jerk, he’s a big fat jerk. 
Hmm, that seemed to be working so Carm swept her hand toward the double doors and smiled.  “Lead the way, Mr. Stokes.”

Marek grinned back, a wicked gleam in his crystalline eyes. “Shall we?  This way then,
Mrs. Stokes
.”

Carm tripped over her strappy heeled sandals.  Righting herself before he could come to her aid, Carm glared daggers at him and muttered a crude, obscene suggestion.  The pig just laughed.  Just friggin’ laughed in response.

The butthead just loved to antagonize her, damn him.  Mrs. Stokes her ass.  She’ll show him Mrs. Stokes.  Right upside his thick skull.

Straightening her jacket, Carm tugged it down with a jerk and followed behind him, her eyes burning into his back.  She hoped his expensive shirt went up in flames.

As Marek swaggered ahead of her Carm finally allowed a look around the place.  Mainly it was in attempt to keep from staring at his delectably firm rear-end and broad, ripped shoulders.  The man had the body of a god, no doubt about it.

Clearing her throat Carm looked around as they passed through a huge living room.  She noticed that the walls were painted the same soothing dusky peach as the entryway allowing the spaces to flow seamlessly together.  A large leather sofa in a rich shade of deep caramel sporting bright throw pillows sat facing the large fireplace and Carm practically drooled over the fantastic vintage steamer trunk Marek used as a coffee table. She also loved the dark rattan chairs with thick cream cushions.  He’d perked them up by adding a few more vibrant pillows.

Her fingers itched to trace over the antique bronze candelabra and matching candleholders displayed on the mahogany fireplace mantel. More large, exotic houseplants in beautiful glazed pots dotted the room and covered most available surfaces.

Rich woods and lots of natural textures created a relaxing environment, giving the room a decidedly British Colonial casual elegance.  Marek had great taste, she had to give him that.