Coming On Strong

3



“I BLEW IT,” Belle insisted, pacing her office. The plush carpet warmed her bare feet as she stomped from one end of the room to the other. “I got so caught up in the sexual game, in wanting to show Mitch what he’d lost by wanting some business deal more than me, I lost sight of why I was there.”

“Chill,” Sierra said, ensconced behind Belle’s desk while working on a seating plan. “You haven’t blown it. Mitch is a by-the-book kind of guy. When he’s ready to reject both of your propositions he’ll have his assistant email you.”

Despite her anxiety, Belle snorted and gave a rueful shake of her head. No patty-cake from Sierra, nope. The brunette shot from the hip, to hell with the fatalities.

“You think he’ll have his tidy little assistant send me a no-thanks-on-the-sex email?”

“Nah,” Sierra said as she frowned at the sketch, then checked her guest list. “He’ll make it all businesslike. You know, something like, ‘I appreciate your time and creative proposal, but have decided it doesn’t suit my needs. As clever and inventive as your suggestions are, I don’t feel that’s the right direction to take at this time. Oh, by the way, I’m not hiring you for the event gig, either.’”

The rejection sounded so realistic, Belle almost rushed to her laptop to see if Sierra was reading it verbatim.

“Did you hear something?” she asked suspiciously.

Sierra just rolled her eyes.

“We’ve been friends since training bras and boarding school, and in all these years, I’ve never seen you turn stupid over any guy but this one,” Sierra pointed out. “Maybe we’d be better off if he does turn the deal down. I don’t think he’s good for you.”

“He tasted good,” Belle muttered. Tasted good, felt good, looked good. Her breath shuddered as she remembered how amazing his kiss had been. She’d only intended to prove a point, tease him a little. He’d been the one with the point, though. Hard and long, pressing into her thigh.

God, she was going crazy with wanting him.

“You’re doing it again,” Sierra reminded.

Belle glanced over at her friend, surprised to see she’d pushed aside her seating chart and was unwrapping a butterscotch candy. Sierra only resorted to sugar, and only in tiny amounts, when she was really stressed. Given the half-dozen unwrapped pieces in front of her, she was definitely worried.

“Doing what again?” Belle asked.

“Getting stupid,” Sierra repeated. “It’s like an automatic shutoff button gets flipped whenever you get near Mitch Carter. Your brain goes into hibernate mode.”

Belle rolled her eyes and dropped into the chair opposite Sierra. “Don’t be silly. I’m just hot for the guy. You’ve seen him, he’s gorgeous. Sexy, smart and fun. That doesn’t make me stupid, that makes me horny.”

“I’ve seen you horny before. You don’t blow business deals over horny,” Sierra said, chomping down on the candy with a loud crunch.

Belle winced at the sound. That had to hurt the teeth. Then her eyes went round as Sierra unwrapped another and popped it into her mouth.

Best friends since they were fourteen, the two women knew each other inside out. Belle had never considered anyone else to go into business with. Guilt trickled down her spine. And now she was stressing her friend into a sugar coma.

“I didn’t blow it,” Belle defended. At least, she didn’t think she did. “I might have gotten a bit carried away, but a little flirting won’t affect the deal. He loved my spiel. He was impressed with our ideas. Whether we get it or we don’t will depend on whether he’s open to the sexual angle or not. For the resort,” she quickly added.

Sierra chewed up another hard candy without replying. She gave Belle a long, considering look, then unwrapped another piece.

The look was a familiar one. She’d worn it when she’d talked Belle into taking a chance on their business. She wore it when she told a client their request was over-the-top crazy. She always wore it when she told Belle her outfit sucked or her ideas were lame. It was her truth-at-all-costs look.

Belle hated that look.

For the good of her own ears and Sierra’s dental bill, Belle reached over and scooped up the remaining candy.

“Belle, you barely knew this guy and you were willing to toss aside your principles and beliefs. For what? A piece of ass.”

“I’m not some dumb tramp,” Belle snapped back. “I might have been distracted during that meeting, but I’ll be damned if I gave away a single principle and I sure as hell didn’t ignore my beliefs.”

Whatever that was supposed to mean, she fumed. God, if she didn’t hate confrontation so much, she’d yell at her friend. Tell her to quit being so negative, so mistrusting. Instead she sucked in a deep, calming breath and reminded herself that this was just Sierra’s way.

“I meant six years ago, when you agreed to marry the guy just so you could get in his pants,” Sierra corrected with a roll of her eyes. “You weren’t interested in happy-ever-after back then. But you gave in despite your better judgment. And look how that turned out.”

Belle winced. She’d rather not think about it. “Please, do you think Mitch would be crazy enough to propose to me again? All he wanted was a leg up the ladder, and he doesn’t need that any longer.”

“You don’t say anything about whether you’d be crazy enough to accept a proposal,” Sierra pointed out.

“I didn’t think I had to state the obvious. I gave up believing in fairy tales or happy-ever-after. I’m hot for the guy, okay? That’s it. I know better than to risk anything other than a little time and some sexy lingerie.”

“I hope so. I really, really hope so,” Sierra said, her words dripping with doubt. “Because your history says otherwise.”

A chime snagged her attention and Sierra glanced at the laptop. She clicked the mouse a couple times and heaved a sigh. Belle’s stomach dropped to her toes at the look on her partner’s face.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” the sleek brunette said in her no-nonsense tone. “If we get this contract, I need you to make me a promise.”

Belle eyed the computer, her fingers itching to grab it and see what message had prompted Sierra’s ultimatum.

“What’s the promise?” Belle hedged. She wasn’t about to agree to anything crazy, like keeping her hands off Mitch. Yes, she might lose a few brain cells around him. But she was an intelligent woman, she had extras.

Replaying those excuses through her head, Belle heaved a sigh and privately admitted they were bullshit. This job was huge, and not only to Eventfully Yours. If she pulled it off, made friendly—but not that friendly—with Mitch, there was a good chance he’d help her dad.

Belle thought back to the call she’d had that morning from her father’s secretary. Her dad was stressed again, and even though he was supposed to be home recovering from his heart attack, he’d spent the past four days running to the office trying to find some way out of the mess he was in. Between a series of bad investments, the real estate crash and a sucky economy, Forsham Hotels was sinking fast. A wave of helpless frustration washed over her. She had to do something, anything, to get Mitch to talk to her dad.

Maybe Twisted Knickers lingerie carried chastity belts.

Sierra took a deep breath. Belle was nodding before her friend could even issue the request. Fine, no sex.

“As soon as you can, hell, the first day if possible, you haul Mitch Carter into the nearest closet and have wild monkey sex with him,” Sierra commanded. “Have as much sex as possible. Do it as many times in as many ways as you can. Get it all out of your system. Do it on the ceiling if you have to. Use toys and kinky leather getups.”

Belle’s jaw dropped. She shook her head, sure her hearing was faulty.

“For the good of Eventfully Yours, for the good of your thought processes and, most of all, for the good of my sanity, I’m begging you—” Sierra placed both palms on the desk and leaned forward, her face intense “—do him. Immediately.”

It took all Belle’s strength to lift her chin off her chest. Sierra was a dyed-in-the-wool cynic, but she’d never been this...well, pragmatic about deliberately seducing someone.

Belle kind of liked it. Even if it was insane.

“You’re kidding, right? I thought you were worried about my poor judgment with Mitch?”

“I’m worried about your judgment when your head is clouded with unrequited lust,” Sierra shot back. “Once you’ve screwed his brains out a few times you’ll be fine.”

“Fine?”

“I’ve read studies that list all the ways sexual frustration hinders a person. This exact situation wasn’t on the list, but I’m sure it qualifies. Once the sexual curiosity is sated, you’ll be your normal, savvy self and kick butt with this deal.”

“So this is for the good of our business?” Belle’s tummy did a wicked somersault.

Shouldn’t she feel excited instead of nervous? Sierra was the voice of reason, so her encouragement made the whole idea seem...well, weird.

“Sure,” Sierra returned with a shrug.

“We got the deal?” Belle pointed to the computer and whatever message Sierra was hiding.

“We’ve got a shot at the deal. He wants a meeting to discuss it.” She spun the laptop around so Belle could read the message from Mitch’s assistant. Lunch meeting, tomorrow afternoon. Come prepared to negotiate.

Excitement buzzed through Belle’s system like electricity. Her stomach tumbled, nerves and anticipation warning her to eat ahead of time. Yes. This was her chance, her shot at everything she wanted. She’d show him the fine art of negotiation...her way.

Belle gave a wicked laugh of delight. “Never let it be said I’m not willing to give my all for the cause.”

While she didn’t quite share Sierra’s anxiety that she’d blow the deal or do something stupid, she wasn’t about to turn down a direct order to hunt down the hottest guy she’d ever lusted after and screw his brains out.

* * *

AS A WAITER TOPPED OFF his coffee, Mitch patted the pocket where he’d tucked the faded cocktail napkin with its gold foil inscription of his and Belle’s names and their former wedding date. He’d spent two days dissecting Eventfully Yours’s proposal with his management team, listening to their analysis and opinions. The unanimous belief was that of all the proposals, this was unquestionably the strongest. The best. And in Mitch’s opinion, the biggest pain in the ass.

Not because the plan would be difficult to implement. All that meant was he had to work harder, smarter, than the average guy. Since he’d built his reputation doing just that, he never shied from difficult.

Proof positive was right here, he thought as he looked around Spago Restaurant. Airy, bright and lush, it was one of the top restaurants in L.A. He’d have had to save up for a month just to bring Belle to have a drink here when they were engaged. But not anymore. Six years and a driving need to prove himself to her, to everyone—including his former father-in-law-to-be—who’d thought he’d marry his way to success, had given him a much stronger edge.

So no, he didn’t blink at taking on the difficult. But this plan came with his personal version of kryptonite: Belle Forsham. The one woman guaranteed not only to bring him to his knees, but to make sure he loved the hell out of being there.

Working with her could be a disaster. If he let himself get offtrack, the results would be ugly. He had everything on the line here. Not only the resort, but his investors’ money and trust. To say nothing of his reputation. Sex with Belle wasn’t worth risking all that. Which was why he was only agreeing to part of her proposal. The events, specifically.

As intriguing, and probably lucrative, as the sex themes had been, he didn’t trust himself to deal with her on that level. She was simply too much temptation. He was afraid she’d use those themes to take that hot kiss one or two—or twenty—steps further.

So—he fingered the napkin again—he’d keep her at arm’s length. Business, pure and simple. Hell, he’d been burned once, he was a smart man. He knew how to keep his fingers—and other body parts—to himself. If he was otherwise tempted, he had his talisman as a reminder that Belle was off-limits.

Suddenly, as though someone had pushed a button, his body went on full alert. His senses flared as he glanced across the restaurant, not surprised to see Belle making her way toward him. Sleek and sexy in a simple spring dress of the palest pink, she sauntered between the linen-covered tables, her eyes never leaving his. Standing as she approached, Mitch eyed her half smile, the hint of naughty amusement igniting his body to instant lust.

His body would just have to get over it.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he said as he gestured to the chair the waiter held out. “I’m sure you have a busy schedule.”

Her green eyes narrowed as if she were trying to read his tone, then Belle gave a little shrug and murmured her thanks to the waiter.

“My schedule’s never too busy for you,” she returned, spreading the napkin over her lap without releasing his gaze. “Unless, of course, you’re planning a wedding or something. Then I might have to run.”

Mitch’s jaw sagged. The mischievous humor gleaming in her eyes assured him he hadn’t heard wrong. Leave it to Belle to poke fun at something taboo. It wasn’t just her smile that was naughty.

“I don’t think you’ll need your sneakers anytime soon,” he deadpanned. “My tux is at the cleaner’s.”

Her laugh rang out, garnering a few indulgent smiles from other diners and sparking an irritatingly warm feeling in Mitch’s belly.

“Whew. Good thing, since I don’t even own a pair. Let’s have lunch and talk business, instead. Okay?”

On cue, the waiter stepped over and handed Belle a menu. She barely glanced at it before ordering iced tea and salad. Interesting. Either she dined at four-star restaurants often enough to be blasé about the famous menu or she really was focused on business. Mitch wondered if she’d been here before, and what kind of men she dated. Irritated at his train of thought, he shoved aside the jealous curiosity and gave the waiter his order. The only thing he needed to know about her activities of the past six years was in reference to her business.

“Your assistant said you had questions, wanted to discuss Eventfully Yours’s proposal in more depth?” she said, her tone professional. Her look, though, was pure sex. Glossy lips pursed, she let her gaze do a slow, appreciative slide over his face and chest. Mitch was grateful the table was between them, both preventing her from going any further and keeping his reaction hidden.

She arched a brow in query. The gleam in her eyes told him she knew she was sending mixed signals and was looking forward to seeing which ones he chose to pick up.

“I do have questions,” Mitch said, his tone neutral. He wasn’t going to play her game, but damned if he’d let her know that. Keeping her guessing was his only shot at maintaining the upper hand. And with Belle, he needed all the control he could get. She was like a wily dominatrix, luring him in with sugar and spice but hiding a whip and chain behind her back.

With that in mind, he pulled out his file of questions, suggestions and ideas. Through the rest of the meal he and Belle hammered out details for the grand opening, as well as a series of smaller pre-events that would build buzz for the resort. He was again impressed with her savvy suggestions, especially as she expanded on her proposal, filling in the crucial details that she’d held back initially.

Damn, she was good.

By dessert, she’d gone from good to mind-blowing.

“You’re going to want to redesign the landscaping here and here,” she said, poking at the sketch of the resort’s property with one blunt fingernail. “If you bring in some fully mature trees, a few more bushes, you’ll have a perfect sex-in-the-woods setting. Guests will love that, and if you set it up right they’ll think it’s their little secret.”

Definitely mind-blowing. And thanks to comments like that, all he could think of were other things he’d like her to blow.

“You’ve obviously considered everything,” he said. He wondered if keeping him in a constant state of arousal was planned, as well. Glancing at the amused awareness in her eyes, he figured it was. “Now, about your suggested themes...”

“I noticed you kept changing the subject when I brought them up.” There was no judgment in her eyes, only curiosity. “So, what? You’re going to go vanilla?”

“Vanilla?”

“Safe and tame.”

Ahh, there was the irritation. Mitch grinned in relief.

“Let’s just say I don’t think the two of us focusing on sex is a good idea,” he returned.

“Chicken?”

“Prudent.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Safe sex again?”

He couldn’t deny it. After all, the safest sex was abstinence.

“Because of our past association I think we should discuss our history and clear the air,” he said instead. “I want us both to be on solid ground, which means we need to deal with any past resentments or issues.”

For the first time in memory, Mitch watched Belle’s expressive face close up. Like a door slamming, it simply went blank and unwelcoming. Then, so fast he wondered if he’d imagined it, she gave a roll of her eyes and flashed her sassy smile.

“The past is over, Mitch. I promise, I’m not bringing any old baggage to the table.” She leaned forward, and for the first time since she’d waltzed out of his office two days earlier, touched him. A whisper-soft brush of her fingertips over the back of his hand. Gentle, teasing, easy. Heat flared, instant and hot, in his belly. “Any desire I have to chase you around is definitely fresh and new, not a leftover itch.”

“You don’t own sneakers, remember?” he snapped, equal parts irritated that she’d so easily closed the door to their past before he could find out why she’d really run off and relieved not to have to admit to his own part in their failed history. “So we’ll just keep chasing off our list of things to do.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Like I said, given our history, I think it’s wise to keep the sexual temptation to a minimum.” He’d rehearsed and rehashed his next words multiple times since he’d decided to work with her, but Mitch still had trouble voicing them. “I’ve also written up the contracts event by event, rather than the job as a whole.”

“Care to clarify that?” He’d had no idea her husky voice could turn to ice.

“I have everything riding on the success of this resort. That success will depend greatly on how well the events are handled. I have to depend on these events happening. As amazing as your proposal is, I can’t afford to tie myself up for more than one event at a time given the circumstances of our last...association.”

If he’d reached across the table and slapped her, she couldn’t have looked more shocked. Mitch felt like a first-class bastard. Belle’s luscious mouth parted as if to challenge him, her eyes sparkling with fury. Then, as if a switch had flipped, she sucked in her bottom lip and gave a jerky little shrug.

“No way. I’m sorry, but these mini-events are back to back, each one leading up to the grand opening. Eventfully Yours won’t take the job without at least the pre- and grand opening events contracted.” Her tone was pure business, her eyes shuttered.

The fairness of her words, spoken in that even, businesslike tone, made Mitch realize he was the one letting the past get in the way.

“That’s fine,” he agreed. “We’ll contract for the five smaller events and the grand opening.”

“Great. Unless there are any more grudges you’re harboring, I’d say we’re good to go.”

“No grudges.” At least, none he’d admit. “Like I said, just being prudent.”

She rolled her eyes again, but the gesture didn’t hide the hurt lurking in the sea-green depths. Mitch frowned, irritated that the sight made him feel like a jerk.

“Then we have a deal,” she said, her tone making it clear she was glad to close the history book. Mitch was surprised, since most women were only too happy to discuss the past in all its gory details. “I’ll be at the resort a week from Monday. Given the distance from L.A. and how much work is involved, I’ll require a room on-site, of course. A suite would be best as I’ll set up office there.”

Belle opened a file, made and initialed a few adjustments on the contract to reflect his changes. With a flourish, she signed her name, then slid the papers back in the folder.

She handed it to him with a wink. Apparently she’d regained her good humor.

“I think I’ll put you in one of the cottages,” he returned. “Unlike the suites, they’re already furnished and should suit you perfectly.”

“How far are these cottages from your on-site office?”

“You can call me anytime you have questions,” he assured her. And the distance would make him think twice about dropping in to visit.

Her brow creased, her eyes rounded. “You’re starting to make me think you’re harboring more issues, Mitch. Are you planning to avoid me the entire time I’m working with you?”

Not Belle, per se. Just sex with her. Mitch winced. There was no way he wouldn’t sound like a pompous ass, but he had to make things clear.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Belle. But I’m not going to sleep with you. We’re doing business together, and business and pleasure just don’t mix.”

“Hmm, interesting. Too bad you didn’t think that six years ago when you tried to mix your business with my daddy’s and in the process ruined my pleasure.”

He frowned, but before he could respond, she gave a quick shake of her head and a brittle, dismissive little laugh. “Now that does sound like I’m the one harboring some of those issues you’re worried about. Let’s start fresh, okay? I’m not the same person I was before and I’m betting you aren’t, either.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but closed it again. All of a sudden, he wanted to clear the air, to ask her the reasons behind her bridal dash. But to do so meant acknowledging emotions he’d locked away. Admitting mistakes he regretted. And worse, bridging the chasm of mistrust that the past kept firmly between them. As long as it was there, he knew they’d never have a shot at intimacy.

He slid his hand into his pocket and fingered the wedding napkin. Between his talisman and that chasm, he’d be safe from screwing up. He couldn’t afford to lose again.

“I’ve changed a lot in six years” was all he said.

“So have I,” she assured him as she laid one warm, smooth hand over his. Energy, mostly sexual but with a subtle layer of something else Mitch couldn’t define, shot through his body at her touch. The most platonic connection, and he was hard, hot and horny. It boggled the mind to think what his response would be if they had full-body contact. Chasm and talisman, he reminded himself.

“I hope you’re not upset,” he said, telling himself it was guilt and not lust making him want to pull her onto his lap. “You’re a gorgeous, sexy woman. You don’t need to be chasing a guy.”

“Who said I’d chase you?” she asked, her tone light and amused.

Mitch frowned. He knew he hadn’t misunderstood her signal or her flirting words.

“Like you, I’m much smarter than I was six years ago. Smart enough to know better than to chase a man. Especially a man like you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to deny that she’d chased him before, but she continued before he could get a single word out. “You say we won’t have sex. I say we will. Simple difference of opinion and only time will tell which one of us is right. And if you’re too uptight to do two things at once successfully, that’s fine. I can wait.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, watching nonplussed as she slid her folder into her briefcase and got to her feet. “What two things?”

“Rock your resort opening and have wild monkey sex with me,” she shot back as she turned to leave. “When it happens, I won’t have chased you to get it. You’ll be the one doing the chasing...and the begging.”