The Pitch: City Love 2 (13 page)

A gentle breeze caressed my cheek and I could hear palm trees rustling above me. I opened my eyes, squinting painfully. The sand shone like crystal in the afternoon sunshine and the waves lapping at the shore were a polite invitation.

Oh. My. God.

I stretched my arms above my head and arched my body, only vaguely aware my arms and legs were now imprinted with the criss-cross pattern of the hammock I’d fallen asleep in. I grinned foolishly. This was bliss. Absolute, pure bliss. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d indulged in an afternoon nap. Least of all an afternoon nap in a hammock in Fiji.

I took my time stretching and finally rolled out of the hammock to walk toward the water’s edge. The deep blue sea greeted my feet and toes gently, the temperature a warm, soothing bath. I walked aimlessly – when was the last time I did anything aimlessly? – for an unknown length of time along the beach. I let the water wash over my feet as my eyes took in the endless stretch of blue ocean.

“Madeleine?”

Too relaxed to hurry, I turned slowly at the sound of Paul’s voice, then blinked. Was I dreaming?

Paul was walking toward me, dressed in a pair of blue board shorts and a white short sleeve shirt open at the front. It fluttered in the breeze and gave me a delicious eyeful of the chest his business suits usually hid. His lean torso was subtly built, with just the hint of a six pack, and there was a light dusting of fair hair covering his chest and abdomen.

“Paul?” Part of me hoped he was a mirage. If I was dreaming I wouldn’t have to hold a conversation with him. I wasn’t sure I could manage to be coherent with his body distracting me.

He strode closer and I was careful to avert my eyes, choosing to look at the view.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. The television station staff are keen to have you join us tonight at the dinner,” he said.

“That’s nice of them, but not at all necessary. I’m enjoying my own company.”

“They’re interested in hearing more about Grounded Marketing.”

That got me. I turned to look at him, doing my best to keep my focus at eye level. It didn’t particularly help. He was wearing a pair of dark aviator style Ray Bans. They highlighted his strong jaw, which currently had a couple of days’ growth. It was possibly the first time I’d seen Paul unshaven and I discovered it was doing unexpected things to my stomach. “Sorry. What did you say?”

He gave me a strange look. “They’d like to hear more about Grounded Marketing. I know I told you this weekend was all about relaxing, but it couldn’t hurt to attend. The hard work will be over in the first hour or two anyway – they’ll all be drunk after that.”

Oh heck. What choice did I have? “Sure. What time?”

“I’ll knock on your door at seven o’clock. You might want to put on a dress.”

I swallowed. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt the heat of his gaze as he scanned my body. I was so distracted by his appearance I’d forgotten I was half naked. I was only wearing a blue sarong tied neatly around my waist and a hot pink bikini top.

“What?” I gave him an arch look. “Isn’t this appropriate? From what you told me earlier you’ll just end up throwing me in the pool at the end of the night.”

“Wear a dress, please.” His voice was uncharacteristically gruff.

“Of course.”

I watched him walk back toward the resort, his lean calf muscles making easy work of the sandy beach.

“Well,” I said to the empty beach, “looks like you were right, Scarlett. I needed that dress after all.”

*

I stood in front of the mirror surveying my reflection uncertainly. Perhaps the dress was too much. When I’d thrown it into my bag I hadn’t recalled it being so … obvious. It flattered my cleavage and waist in all the right places. At any other time I’d have worn it happily, except the purpose of tonight was
not
to draw attention to myself. I was Paul’s guest and this was his business trip.

A knock on the door broke me out of my reverie. “Shit.”

I didn’t have a choice now. I’d have to go and open the door and test the obviousness of the ensemble. I padded toward the door in bare feet – I was yet to put on shoes – and opened it.

Paul stared at me, and I stared back. He was wearing what would ordinarily be considered a poor taste Hawaiian shirt, full of palm trees and loud colors. Except he’d paired it with Miami Vice style white trousers and suit jacket. It looked amazing.

“Madeleine.”

I blushed, because I’d been caught staring. “Hi. I love the outfit,” I said honestly.

The white in the suit brought out his blue eyes and I watched as he lowered them over me. Cleavage.
Check.
Hips.
Check.
Legs.
Check.

Oh boy.
This dress was a bad idea.

“Not as good as yours,” he told me, his tone deep.

“It’s not too much?”

“No.” He held out a hand, ready to escort me to the dinner.

“Wait. Shoes!” I rushed back inside to locate a pair of silver sandals that contrasted the deep purple of the dress. Satisfied, I grabbed my small black handbag and my room key, then allowed him to take my hand.

We walked slowly toward the main resort building. It didn’t escape my attention that he hadn’t let go of my hand.

“So who should I pay special attention to tonight?” I asked, doing my best to ignore the way his fingers were woven comfortably through mine.

“Ian Peters. He’s the CEO.”

“I know Ian. Well, not personally – I read the papers. He’s here?”

“You bet. So is his second in charge, Ryan Waite. There are a few other senior account managers I’ll introduce you to as well.”

“I must confess, I’m still wondering why they want to meet me.” As proud as I was of Grounded Marketing, I was realistic. Despite the recent bank win, I was a small player and we didn’t book media.

“It’s unlikely they’d ever work with you directly, but they know people. Make a good impression and they’ll help spread the word for you.”

“It’s who you know,” I replied quietly. And right now Paul Neilsen was proving extremely good to know.

“Exactly.” Paul glanced at me. “Go easy on the drink for the first couple of hours. After that, Ian usually retires to his room and the children play.”

I bit back a smile. “What makes you think I’m a child?”

“Trust me. Young or old, most of us will relive our youth tonight.”

I didn’t know whether to be worried or amused.

“Let’s go.”

He pulled me toward the resort building and I followed. Once inside, he led me down a hallway. When we stepped through the double doors of a function room, I faltered momentarily.

The space was breathtaking. The roof was a combination of glass and wooden beams, arching up endlessly to provide an amazing view of the stars in the night sky. The room had been decorated painstakingly. About fifteen round tables held masses of tropical flowers and palm fronds, giving off a distinctly tropical scent. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling everywhere I looked and French doors were open all around the room, letting in the mild evening breeze.

“Wow,” I said, unnecessarily.

“They go to a lot of trouble,” Paul agreed, then pulled me further into the room.

It looked as though half the guests were already there, milling around the tables and drinking cocktails provided by waiters who were discreetly manning the room.

The next couple of hours were a blur. Paul introduced me to more people than I could count. To his credit, he used his charm and influence to get me in front of Ian and Ryan, upon which we had a pleasant fifteen-minute conversation. The advice not to drink was harder to achieve. The waiters were relentless and my dress seemed to have more effect than I’d anticipated, with random male strangers offering me drinks at regular intervals.

To my relief, Paul didn’t leave my side the entire time. He guided me easily around the room with a hand resting on the exposed skin on the small of my back. It felt natural, if not tantalizingly seductive.

When the wait staff indicated we should be seated for our meal I was grateful. I required some food to accompany my alcohol. Paul must have sensed as much because he made sure I was seated properly before sitting down next to me.

“Having a good time?”

“A little too good.” Embarrassingly, I let out a quiet hiccup. “Food would be good.”

Paul’s eye twinkled. “I told you.”

“Yes, you did. But, child that I am, I didn’t listen.” The concoction of tropical cocktails on offer had been worth it.

“I’ll have to discipline you later.”

My eyes widened and he gave me a sly grin, then turned to introduce himself to the woman on the other side of him.

I continued to stare at the back of his head, my heart pounding furiously. Where was the Paul I was used to? Tropical Island Paul was teasing me and I liked it. In my slightly drunken state I found I wasn’t interested in analyzing it as much as I usually would – I wanted more of it.

Dinner took the edge off my inebriation. I was painfully aware it did not take the edge off my attraction to Paul. Fortunately our table of ten proved to be an entertaining group and helped take my mind off him. We passed the dinner conversing happily.

During the main meal, one of the television station sales managers looked over at me curiously. Gareth was an attractive-looking man somewhere in his mid-thirties, with sandy blond hair and warm brown eyes. “How long have you and Paul been married?” he asked.

I swallowed my fish, attempting not to choke, then looked up at him. “We’re not married,” I managed.

“Oh? I assumed you were together?”

I wasn’t entirely stupid. It was a roundabout way of asking if I was taken. Judging by how he’d been eyeing me the last half hour, he was interested.

I could feel Paul’s eyes on me as I put down my fork and reached for my wine. “Paul’s my business mentor.”

Gareth’s eyebrows shot up. “Mentor?” He directed his attention to Paul. “How did you get that gig?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” Paul replied smoothly.

I smiled at Paul. “He’s become a good friend, though.”

Gareth gave Paul a pointed look and sat back in his chair. “Hard luck. I don’t know if I’d have that sort of strength,” he joked.

I saw something flicker in Paul’s eyes and he smiled tightly. He set down his wine. “You may not have heard of Madeleine’s company, Grounded Marketing. They’ve just won the advertising account for ACB Banking Corporation. Madeleine and I are working together on it. In four years she’s achieved more revenue growth than NTRtain managed in six. The truth is, she’s teaching me a thing or two.”

I felt myself redden and Gareth turned to look at me again. “Really?”

I sat up in my seat and leveled my gaze at him. “Yes. The ACB account is a major win for us,” I told him.

“She’s being modest,” Paul interrupted. “Grounded Marketing achieved BRW Fastest Growing Company status two years running – and the ACB win will skyrocket her ranking this year, I’m betting.”

“Grounded Marketing. Interesting name.” Gareth’s expression turned to genuine interest. “Tell me more about what you do, Madeleine.”

I spent the rest of the main meal discussing Grounded Marketing’s history and services with Gareth. By the end of dessert, I was pretty confident I’d secured an ally in the industry.

“Would you care for a dance?” Gareth asked, when the meals were over.

“She promised me the first dance,” Paul cut in.

Gareth looked prepared to fight him on it, but then assessed Paul’s challenging look and reconsidered. “Maybe later then,” he said, jovially. “Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

I gave him one of my brightest smiles in return. “Absolutely.”

Paul and I watched as Gareth stood and targeted his attentions on a group of women chatting near the dance floor. I reached over and placed a hand on Paul’s arm. “Thank you.”

“For saving you from the dance floor?” Paul shrugged. “No problem. Unless of course you wanted to dance with him?”

I ignored him. “No. I meant thanks for what you said before.”

His expression darkened. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”

“Yes, I do.” Paul started to shift uncomfortably in his seat and I tightened my grip on his arm. “He was treating me like the stereotypical bimbo woman, and you put him in his place.”

“He was being an ass.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been spoken to that way, Paul,” I said.

He turned to me, his blue eyes intent. “Then I apologize on behalf of the male race. You deserve so much better.”

My breath left me in a soft whoosh.

“What?” he asked.

“Funny,” I said. “There’s this amazing guy I know. He keeps telling me to save myself for someone who deserves me.”

Paul grinned. “He sounds like a wise guy.”

“He is.”

“He also sounds too old for you.”

“I don’t see it that way.” I picked up my wine glass and ran my finger along the edge. “He seems caught up on it though, unfortunately.”

“Probably because he has a lot of baggage. Divorce can do that.”

I set the wine glass down and looked at him. “It’s called life.”

“You’re very stubborn …
Madeleine.
”

I felt my stomach clench and my pulse quickened. “I kind of think he likes that about me.”

“He does.”

I took a deep breath, or at least tried to because I was finding it very hard to breathe. “So I’m wondering when he’s going to figure out he’s good enough for me. I tried to show him once, but he wouldn’t believe me.”

Paul’s eyes locked onto mine and I couldn’t look away if I tried. “Perhaps you’ll need to show him again,” he said so softly that I could barely hear him above the music.

“What happens if he pushes me away again?” I whispered. “There’s only so much rejection a girl can take.”

“I don’t think he’ll push you away.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes. I do.”

“How? He’s not very open about how he feels.”

Paul paused and frowned slightly. “That’s because he’s been spending all of his energy denying his feelings.”

“Why?”

“Because if he lets go, he’s worried about what he’ll do.”