Worth the Challenge (18 page)

She hadn’t worked in such silence for so long, it felt odd.

When she wasn’t calculating formulas, she conducted research via the web. Even fired off a few emails, one to her mentor, a lovely woman who’d once worked with her father and now another to a former instructor at Givaudan. She offered them hints of her newly created scents, asking might she be on the proper track if she wanted to create an unusual but identifiable tropical scent.

Their lack of response scared her to death. What if she was completely wrong? What if she formulated all three juices, brought them as samples and the Worth executives hated every single one? She had no time to go back and recreate something from scratch. Rhett had already made that clear. She’d been under the gun from the moment she took the position.

And yet she’d fooled around during most of their time on the island. Too enamored with Rhett, too captivated by the way he smiled at her, kissed her, made love to her…

Frowning, she shut her laptop, dismissing her empty inbox. They would eventually reply. They always did. The time difference was tremendous and besides, she was being foolish, willing the return emails to appear like she had magical powers.

If she had magical powers, she’d snap her fingers and have the perfect scent created. The Worths would celebrate her. The entire industry would declare her brilliant. And Rhett…

Rhett would wrap her in his arms and whisper that he never wanted to let her go.

Literally snorting, Ella stood and went to the window, staring out at the ocean. It was yet another beautiful day on Maui, her last, and she spent it cooped away in the room she’d hardly used since arriving. They’d slept in this bed their first night there, the first time they had sex, then moved to Rhett’s room the next day.

She cracked open the window, allowing the scent to waft in on the gentle breeze. A mixture of heat and sand, the salty, slightly algae smell of the ocean and a hint of blooming native flowers, it was what she so desperately tried to capture.

It scared her, how unsure she felt. How risky this entire endeavor was. She was already feeling on unstable ground when she received the phone call earlier. Her father, giddy with his news, proudly proclaiming how he’d somehow come in contact with one of the Renaldi brothers, letting them know he’d seriously considered taking on the Worth perfumer contract but ultimately told them no.

What would it take to have you take on a perfume assignment again?
the Renaldi brother had asked her father.

Too much for you to fathom
, he’d answered, laughing when he recounted the story for Ella’s benefit.

She hadn’t wanted to hear it. The news had made her sick when he announced the amount of money they were willing to offer him. An exclusive two-year contract, he’d boasted. Near complete creative control, not only would he formulate the juice, he would have a say in the final decision as well.

Practically unheard of in the industry, and her father had scored such a deal. She still could hardly believe it.

You need to learn how to negotiate properly
, he’d chastised her, his voice gruffer than usual. His disappointment had been palpable, even over the phone.
You take the first deal you’re offered and allow them the ability to cut you off as quickly as they hired you. You’re a fool.

She was a fool to believe her father would be proud of her. He was selfish. She’d known this her entire life but had chosen to ignore it. No child wanted to admit their parent didn’t care for them properly, was too wrapped up in their own lives to attend to the needs of those who solely depended on them.

When she was small, she’d at first feigned interest in scent. As she grew older, she realized she had a true talent, a gift. A nose, her father had proclaimed to his friends and colleagues. He’d told everyone his daughter had as good a nose as he and everyone knew how refined his was.

She’d become a perfumer because she’d known nothing else. And for the first time in her life, she resented it. Resented her father, the life he’d provided her, the lack of choices. She’d had no choice. She was who she was because of him.

The burden to impress, to prove to all she was just as good and someday would most likely be better than Michel Durand was exceptionally heavy. Her father believed she would fail. Oh, he didn’t outright say so, but he didn’t need to. He believed she would never amount to anything.

Or that she would never amount to the greatness that was Michel Durand. She lived in his shadow her entire life. And it was so dark and so long, it nearly consumed her.

A knock sounded at the door and then it opened, Rhett peeking his head around it. His eyes were gentle, as was the smile that curved his full mouth. He was devastatingly handsome, sweet when he wanted to be, but bossy and stubborn too, sometimes a bit more than she cared for.

Deep down, she liked the way he took charge. It aroused her and his behavior made her feel cared for. Something she’d never really experienced before.

Ever.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded, tried to offer him a reassuring smile but failed. She saw it in the darkening of his eyes, the concern written all over his face. “I’m fine,” she lied.

He entered the room, closing the door behind him, why, she wasn’t sure. Slowly he approached her, his steps light, his gaze locked directly on her. “We leave first thing tomorrow morning,” he said when he stopped in front of her.

She nodded, afraid of what might happen if she tried to speak. She could fall apart, start blubbering all over him and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

“I want to spend the rest of the evening with you,” he murmured, reaching out so he could capture her hand in his.

“What time is it?” She hadn’t paid much attention, knew she’d spent most of the afternoon locked away considering the placement of the sun, the shadows that it cast.

“Almost four.” He squeezed her hand before entwining his fingers with hers. “We only have a few more hours together alone, Gabriella.”

A wave of sadness washed over her, so large it made the back of her knees dissolve. He squeezed their linked hands, but it didn’t reassure her like usual. The unspoken words rang through her head. What they shared was temporary. As soon as they returned to New York, it was over. She knew this, was savvy enough to understand how it worked, but she hadn’t anticipated finding herself halfway in love with him.

And she was. It wouldn’t take much to nudge her over the edge, either. It was foolish, she’d known him for such a short amount of time, but there it was.

To Rhett, she was an island fling. She’d told herself this from the start. Her head knew it, but her heart was a complete idiot.

That she allowed her heart to become involved in the first place was more than enough proof of her utter foolishness.

“I want to spend tonight with you. I don’t want to worry about work or the scent or anything like that. Just me and you”

“Rhett…” She started to protest, to argue, but he pressed his fingers to her mouth, silencing her.

“Just say yes, Gabriella.” He paused, his eyes full of some unnamed emotion she’d never seen before. “I—I really want you to say yes.”

His hesitation, his words warmed her heart. And she so enjoyed the way he said her full name. Not even her father called her that any longer. No one did.

Except Rhett.

“You know, we’ve spent every night together,” she reminded him when his hand dropped away from her lips. “Really, we’ve wasted lots of precious time when we should’ve been working. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but maybe we should work tonight instead of going out.”

He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. She fit perfectly against him, their bodies attuned with each other yet still thrilling at first contact. Resting her hands on his chest, she smoothed her fingers downward, savoring the hard, muscular feel of him. Slowly, she tilted her head back, their gazes meeting, his so serious. “I have an idea,” he murmured.

She arched a brow. “What sort of idea?” Most of his ideas usually ended up with them naked in bed. Not that she usually complained…

But today—at the absolute last minute—she was trying to do the right thing. She didn’t know if she’d finally come to her senses or was acting incredibly stupid.

“A good one, I promise.” The wickedness in his grin made her smile in return. “Trust me.”

“I want to trust you. But…” Slowly, she withdrew from his embrace, momentarily at a loss for words. “Maybe—maybe we’re going about this all wrong.” How could she tell him she believed they’d essentially wasted their time while on Maui? She was just as guilty as he, just as much of a screwup when the both of them had something to prove to their families, to the industry, to the entire world.

So why did they squander their opportunity?

“What are you saying?” His voice was tight, his expression fierce. It was as if her words flipped a switch within him. “That you don’t trust me? That you think I’m a fuckup like everyone else does?”

“I never said that,” she started, but he cut her off with a look.

“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” Clenching his jaw, he glared at her. “Fine, you’re right. I bring you to this island and all I want to do is fuck you. Forget the job, forget the perfume, forget Worth. All I can think about is how fast can I get you naked.”

Ella’s jaw dropped, shocked at his harsh words, his even harsher expression. “I’m just as guilty as you.”

“Not even close. I took advantage of you. I do that, you know. And you were ripe for plucking.” He smiled, but it was more a grimace. “Hunter knew I would do this. Hell, so did Alex. They all think I’m a complete idiot who can only think with his dick. I’m just proving them all right.”

She watched in stunned silence as he marched out of the room without another word, slamming the door behind him. Her knees collapsing, she fell onto the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.

Well. That conversation had gone nothing like she anticipated. She’d never seen him so angry, so down on himself. He was usually so carefree, so easygoing. She knew his brothers thought he was a bit of a screwup, but that was a part of his past. He’d worked hard to prove he’d changed his ways.

Didn’t his family realize it?

Tears filled her eyes and she tried her best to blink them away. But they came anyway, blurring her vision before they slid slowly down her cheeks. She didn’t want him to go back to New York defeated, thinking he’d more than met his brothers’ low expectations. She wanted him to prove them wrong. She wanted him to succeed.

Sniffing loudly and wiping the tears from her heated cheeks, she stood and grabbed her notebook, flipping it open to yet again look over one of the handful of formulas she’d concocted.

If she had her way, Rhett
would
succeed. Nothing would stand in his way.

Not even her.

Chapter Thirteen

He’d stormed out of the villa like a pouting baby. Went and sat at one of the resort bars for almost two hours, nursing a beer and staring morosely at the majestic ocean view. More than one beautiful woman had sidled up to him while he sat there. Clad in scant bikinis that showcased perfectly toned bodies, trying to catch his attention with blatant attempts at flirtation.

He ignored them all. None of them interested him. He only wanted Gabriella.

And she thought he was a grade-A screwup that she couldn’t trust.

Sighing, he grabbed the bottle in front of him, slinging back the last of the now-warm beer. He slammed it down with a grimace, shaking his head no when the bartender asked if he wanted another.

He needed to keep his wits about him. Didn’t want to get so drunk out of his mind he’d stumble back to the villa and make an ass of himself. He’d done enough of that to leave a more-than-lasting impression on Gabriella.

If she was smart, she’d keep him at arm’s distance for the rest of their short stay on the island. If
he
was smart, he’d apologize and beg her forgiveness.

Never in his life had he been accused of being particularly smart.

“Is this seat taken?” a sweetly sultry voice suddenly asked from behind.

Turning, he was about to say he was leaving but the words stuck in his throat. Gabriella stood in front of him, wearing a pale yellow strappy sundress that showed off her sun-kissed skin, her eyes full of worry though her smile was bright.

He’d done that to her, put the unease in her gaze. And he hated that.

“Hey. I was, uh, just headed back,” he said lamely.

She settled onto the barstool next to his, ordering a drink when the bartender approached. Rhett studied her, marveled for about the thousandth time over her beauty, her serene composure, her ability to both calm his soul and send a riot of nerves racing through his belly simultaneously.

The effect she had on him was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

“I worried about you,” she murmured, settling her elbows on the edge of the counter before she turned to face him. “You didn’t answer your phone.”

“I didn’t realize you called.” He’d turned down the volume on his phone, not wanting to deal with any of his problems, like his life. Acting the coward and running away from his troubles as he was prone to do.