8
“IT WAS...INCREDIBLE. Totally amazing,” Belle rhapsodized over the phone. Her mind was still filled with the memory of her and Mitch, naked. Two hours had passed since he’d left her bed after a hot bout of early-morning delight and she could still taste him. She shifted, just a little, and her unused-to-such-wild-sex body felt the reminder of him inside her.
“But, I don’t get it—when I’m with Mitch, I totally lose control,” she admitted to her best friend from the very bed where she’d had that wild sex. Now, though, it was man-less as she carefully applied a second coat of blushing burgundy to her toenails.
“Well, good sex will do that to a gal. I thought you’d have realized that by now,” Sierra returned grumpily. Belle felt a surge of guilt at the worry she was causing her partner.
Not enough to drop the subject, though.
“Ha-ha,” Belle deadpanned, capping the polish and setting it on the bedside table. “I mean, I keep...” She trailed off, needing to talk about it but realizing how stupid she’d sound.
“Keep what? Having premature orgasms? Screaming in ecstasy loud enough to bring the gardeners running? Welcoming your climax with a litany of filthy porn words?”
Belle’s jaw dropped. Not at the words, but at the tart tone. She pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at it in shock, then flipped over on the bed so she lay on her stomach.
“Something’s wrong,” she decided aloud. “Is there a problem with Eventfully Yours? Are you okay? What’s going on?”
Silence. Then she actually heard Sierra shrug, the fabric of whatever she was wearing brushing against the phone. “No problems. Nothing’s going on. Company is fine.”
Shorthand for Sierra didn’t want to talk about it.
One of the cornerstones of their lifelong friendship was knowing when to push the other and when to back off and let her stew. Belle’s telltale clue to leave Sierra alone had always been how many millimeters her lower lip stuck out. A champion pouter, Sierra was open to commiserating if she had the lip out. But if she’d sucked it in, concentration-style, she was off-limits.
Belle silently cursed the distance between them and tried to figure out what to do.
“What lipstick are you wearing?” she asked.
“What kind of question is that?” When Belle didn’t say anything, Sierra admitted, “I’m not wearing any right now.”
Chewed it all off. Definitely off-limits. Automatically backing away from the confrontation, Belle shifted back to the original topic. “I feel like an idiot,” she admitted, “but I keep losing my temper with Mitch. You know me, I don’t get angry. This is so bizarre.”
“You do, too, get angry,” Sierra pointed out. “You just don’t allow yourself to express it. You’ll end up with ulcers if you don’t learn to let go of some of that, you know.”
“Apparently I’ve found my release valve.”
“Sex’ll work every time,” her partner agreed. “But since I’m not getting any, I’d rather talk about something else, okay?”
Sierra would never be in danger of ulcers. Despite her unwillingness to share whatever was bothering her, she never bottled up her emotions. Why bother, she usually said, when it was so much more fun to let them spew all over like a well-shaken bottle of soda.
Except now, when she seemed to be holding them in even better than Belle ever had.
“Okay, so, um, did you get my notes about the sex-themed ideas?” Belle asked, obediently changing the topic. “I’m going to need additional staff to help set up for the pre-events. I think Mitch said something about his security team running checks on everyone to guarantee a complete media blackout.”
“We’ve got two dozen independent contractors on file who’ve passed top security screenings. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?”
Belle glanced at her leather portfolio, flipping pages with the pad of her finger so as not to smudge her fresh polish. “That should work, in addition to Lakeside’s serving staff.”
The two of them went over details for the upcoming opening, plus ideas for possible follow-up contracts, such as holiday-themed sex and weddings à la kink.
“I talked to a couple of bigwigs when I was handling the CEO gig last week,” Sierra said after they’d wound up business. “You know, just a few questions about who they think the top developers are, what they’d do in today’s real estate climate and economy, that kind of chitchatty thing.”
Belle sat up and drew her knees to her chest. She glanced at the tab in her notebook titled Dad and grimaced. She’d been so busy getting mad at, then getting on top of, Mitch, she’d forgotten the most important reason she was here.
“And?”
“Things just suck right now. They all said the same thing your dad did. It’s not the time to build. In their opinion, anyone sitting on a big fat piece of land is stuck with it for the next little while.”
“The next little while will bankrupt Daddy.”
Sierra gave a sympathetic sigh. “I know.”
Out of the blue, Belle thought back to the contract she’d seen on Diana’s desk. There was a luxury spa in the resort lobby—fancy and very upscale. And oddly enough, it was not owned by the hotel but was leasing the space from Lakeside. Was that an option for her dad’s hotels? An additional income? It was worth looking into.
“Let me talk to a couple of people,” she told Sierra. “I thought of something earlier, but I need to get some details to figure out if it even makes sense.”
Belle stared out the window at the gorgeous golf course. Morning sun washed it in gentle light. Lush, green and exclusive. Her father’s hotels were lovely, but not in the same category as Lakeside. This resort would cater to an elite clientele, whereas Forsham’s catered to upscale business travelers, wedding parties and couples looking for indulgent getaways.
Maybe the spa angle was the answer to increasing the cash flow until the real estate market turned around and her father could sell the properties without losing everything. She watched the gardeners putter along the green in a golf cart, stopping every ten feet or so to check on the bizarre gopher population explosion, and sighed.
“I’m going to dinner with Mitch tonight,” she said. “I’ll see if I can get some hypothetical advice or something.”
Sierra made a sound that could be taken as agreement, then said, “Just be sure you ask him before you throw your next fit.”
“What? Why would I throw a fit?”
“I thought temper tantrums were your new foreplay.”
“Ha.” Belle started to laugh as she hung up, then stopped. What if he was only interested in her when she was pissy? Did he only want her because she was a challenge now? Unlike before when she’d tried to serve herself up on a platter?
She told herself she was being silly. But still, her initial reaction was to pick a fight as soon as she saw him. That wasn’t fair, though. She had to know. Which meant she’d be an absolute doll all night, flirt to her heart’s content with nary a hint of anger or confrontation, and see how it went.
Hell no, she wasn’t going to take the easy way out. Belle gathered all the confidence she could and squared her shoulders. She’d have him begging for sex again and she’d do it with a smile on her face.
* * *
“REECE?” MITCH FROWNED as he crossed the lobby to greet the tall guy in the cowboy hat. “What’re you doing here?”
Unselfconsciously, he gave Reece a quick man hug, the arm-around-the-shoulder kind that he knew wouldn’t embarrass his ex–Green Beret cousin.
“I thought I’d drop in, check the place out,” Reece said in his slow drawl.
“Check up on your investment, you mean?” Mitch asked, referring to the fact that all the family members were stockholders on the MC Board of Directors.
“Nah, just wanted to see what kind of trouble your sorry ass has been getting up to.” Reece made a show of looking around. Mitch followed his gaze, taking in the towering potted plants, the glossy marble-inlaid floor and ornate rosewood check-in desk. Reece gave a nod. “Long way from home, cuz.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Mitch pulled back his shoulders and grinned with pride. “You think the whole family will turn out for the grand opening blowout event?”
Reece pulled a face and gave a slow shrug. “Not so sure about that. I mean, if I read your reports right, you’re shifting focus from a ritzy resort to a sexually charged amusement park for the rich and famous. Might be a little racy for Grammy Lynn, if ya know what I mean.”
Mitch snickered. “Grammy Lynn sent me a list of suggestions to make sure we were offering enough sexy options.”
“I shoulda known.” Like everything else about him, Reece’s grin was slow and easy. That smile deceived the enemy into thinking he was slow, women into thinking he was easy. They soon found out they were wrong. He was also loyal, tenacious and brilliant, but few people outside the family knew that, since Reece had a habit of keeping everyone at arm’s length.
Mitch stood visiting with his cousin, feeling on top of the world. Family, success and hot sex. What more could a man want? The image of Belle as he’d last seen her, naked except for a very satisfied smile, flashed through his mind. Mitch shoved it right back out, figuring a hard-on while discussing the resort’s sex themes might give the wrong message. Besides, he was still trying to sort through how he felt about last night. Awesome sex aside—and damned if it hadn’t been the most awesome of his life—his mind was a mess. He ricocheted between sexual satisfaction, concern over being led around by his dick, and terror that it’d meant nothing to her. Hell, he felt like a teenage girl PMSing.
For the twentieth time since leaving Belle that morning, Mitch shoved the worries aside and forced himself to focus on the here and now.
So he asked about Reece’s business. His cousin had opened a security firm after leaving the service. While he consulted and supervised security for MC Development, there was definitely not enough business in Mitch’s little world to keep a man like Reece busy. Instead he kept his wits sharp working as a for-hire bodyguard, defense trainer and, as Mitch liked to rib him, all-round spy.
“Seriously,” he asked when he’d been brought up-to-date on everything, “what’re you doing out here? You didn’t say anything about a visit when we talked the other day.”
“I had some stuff to go over with you, wanted to take a look around. Maybe meet your planner and discuss the security list you sent on her behalf.”
Well, shit. Mitch hummed. He’d known his family would have questions once they found out Belle was his new planner, but he’d figured he had plenty of time to come up with a reasonable explanation. And more important, plenty of time to get used to—and over—the wild sexual intensity that flamed between them before he was faced with the threat of it being extinguished by the past.
Maybe he could keep Reece and Belle apart? Tell her he’d meet her later, have Larry haul his cousin around for a tour?
Keeping his smile in place, Mitch felt his mind race with possibilities. Despite the mind games he was playing with himself, things were going too well right now. He wasn’t ready to give this pleasure up. He’d dreamed of being with Belle for years, wanted her for what felt like forever. Bottom line, he wasn’t letting reality—in any form—intrude on this time with her.
Not even his cousin.
* * *
BELLE WALKED OUT OF THE spa into the resort’s lobby, a satisfied smile on her face and three pages of notes in her portfolio. Apparently, MC Development rented space to all the little boutiques in the resort. Which not only cut back on their overhead, but brought in a tidy little income, as well.
With a purr of pleasure, she raised her hand to her nose and sniffed the rich, floral fragrance on her silky smooth skin. Smelled good, felt great. The owner, Kiki, was a savvy businesswoman with an eye for success.
Belle had a feeling they’d get along great, and she’d know for sure the next day when they had lunch together. That was enough time to run her idea past Sierra, work up an outline and make a quick phone call to Daddy.
And, she thought as she spied Mitch across the lobby, even more important, time for that couples’ massage and chocolate bath she’d talked the spa owner into booking for them, despite the spa not being open yet.
With that in mind, she sauntered toward Mitch, her heels making a snappy sound as she crossed the marble floor. She focused on his jean-encased butt, so sweet and tempting, and wondered how long it’d be before she could bite it. Again.
For now, she settled on a pat when she reached him. “How’d you like to get naked and play in chocolate?” she asked, coming up behind him.
Mitch spun around, a look of appalled bewilderment on his face. Quick as lightning, he grabbed her hand off his ass and, with a gentle squeeze, shook it as if they were distant business acquaintances.
Hurt and confused, Belle tried to figure out what his problem was.
The sound of male laughter clued her in. She glanced around Mitch’s shoulder and saw a lanky, Southern hunk seated on the white-leather couch and realized she’d embarrassed Mitch. At least she hoped that look had been embarrassment and not distaste for her suggestion.
Putting on her best society-princess smile, she stepped around Mitch and held out her hand in greeting. As the guy got to his feet, she gave a mental frown and tried to place him. He looked vaguely familiar.
“I’m Belle Forsham, and I’m afraid I’ve reached my limit of naughty offers for the day, but I hope we can be friends anyway?” she greeted in a light, joking tone.
“Reece Carter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” It wasn’t the touch of his large hand engulfing hers that clued Belle in. It was Mitch’s supportive one grazing the small of her back. “Again.”
A buzzing rang in Belle’s ears, and her breath stuck somewhere in her chest. Carter. Mitch’s cousin. The cousin, she remembered, that Mitch considered his best friend and had asked to be his best man. That’s why he looked so familiar. He’d attended their kiboshed wedding and probably thought, with good reason, that she was a flaky bitch from hell.
Gathering what little nerve she had and taking strength from Mitch’s warmth, she looked into Reece’s midnight-blue eyes, but she saw no trace of judgment. Just an odd sort of waiting. The steady gaze made her stomach hurt. Maybe censure would have been better?
Mitch’s cell phone rang and he excused himself, stepping away to take the call. She didn’t know why, but Belle wanted to grab his belt loop and follow him to safety.
She offered Reece a hesitant smile. He didn’t return it. Instead he gave her a long, intimidating stare that let her know without words that yes, he definitely remembered what she’d done and flaky bitch from hell was the nicest way he could think of her.
Belle wondered how fast she could run in these heels.
“I hear your naughty suggestions are going to be the highlight of this resort,” Reece finally said.
Oh, fun, talking sex with a guy who completely hated her. She’d rather take her chances with her heels, but for Mitch’s sake, she knew she couldn’t.
Belle swallowed twice, trying to wet her tongue. She stretched her lips into a smile. “They’ll make Lakeside the go-to playground of the rich and famous. I’m not sure how much Mitch has shared, but we have some great ideas that I know will lay a solid promotional foundation.”
Realizing she was babbling, Belle stopped and pressed her lips together. She barely heard Mitch rejoin them and take over the description of their plans for the resort. She wanted, no needed, to leave. Now.
“Gentlemen, I’m so sorry, but I have to run,” she interrupted.
Mitch frowned at her. “I thought we were having lunch.” He looked at his watch, then gestured to his cousin. “Reece’ll join us. We can go now if you’re hungry.”
She’d really been looking forward to eating with Mitch. Lunch and a little footsie, some flirting and maybe a quickie nooner for dessert.
“Um, I can’t. I’m sorry, but I forgot I need to run by your office and talk to Diana about a few things. I need to use her fax to send off some contracts, too.”
Belle knew she was a rotten liar and now apparently so did the men standing in front of her. Mitch gave her an angry look that slowly shifted to suspicion, staring at her as if she was an intriguing puzzle with a few vital pieces missing.
“We’ll do dinner instead, then,” he said after a few moments. He used his business voice. The one that let her know he was speaking as the guy signing her contract, not the guy who’d done her doggy-style before breakfast.
“I’ll look forward to it,” she lied before turning to make her way across the marble foyer toward the questionable refuge of Mitch’s office. It had been a stupid lie, since the men could easily and justifiably follow her, but her brain had stalled. When she saw them head toward the restaurant, she heaved a sigh of relief.
Not willing to be proved the liar she was, she decided to go visit Diana anyway. Just CYA.
She scurried down the hallway and into Mitch’s assistant’s office. Except Diana wasn’t there. Belle gave a huff of frustration and debated her options. She could just go to her cottage, but that meant losing her witness. She could wait for Diana, but, well, she really didn’t like the gal enough to waste who knew how long twiddling her thumbs.
Or, she eyed the fax machine, she could send a fax as she’d said she would. That would turn her lie into a truth and make it all right. She grinned at her twisted justification and, flipping open her portfolio, grabbed the specs from the spa and penned a quick note to Sierra to outline her idea. She’d planned to email them all, but hey, faxing meant she didn’t have to type up all the specs since she didn’t have a scanner.
She rolled her eyes at the continual justification.
“Hey, Belle.”
She turned and saw Larry in the doorway and grinned. Perfect. “Hey, Larry, how’s it going?”
“I’m glad I found you. I pitched an idea to Mitch about bringing in a live band each month and he said to get together with you to expand on it.”
They chitchatted as she set her stuff on the armoire housing the office equipment and slid her papers into the fax machine’s paper feed. Punching in Eventfully Yours’s number, she listened to the manager’s ideas and considered tasteful ways to integrate the sex themes.
Before she could offer any feedback, Larry glanced at his watch and shrugged. “Lunch over, I’ve gotta run. I’ll send you a memo about this, okay?”
She nodded and said goodbye as she gathered the faxed papers from the tray.
Well, that had worked out nicely. Despite being bummed at being cheated out of her lunchtime sexual romp, and very nervous over the arrival of Mitch’s cousin, Belle was feeling pretty good as she sorted the specs to put back in her portfolio.
As she filed them, she noticed a crumpled ball of paper stuck under the fax tray. She tugged the wad out and, about to toss it in the trash, noticed the word gopher. Had Mitch found a way to get rid of the pests? She smoothed the page flat and glanced at it. A memo typed on Lakeside’s stationery.
Then she read it from beginning to end.
Confused, she turned it over, looking for what she didn’t know.
Was someone deliberately causing damage to Mitch’s resort? She looked at the typed to-do list.
Damage sprinklers, reroute laundry, break bench slats. The list went on and on. Brow furrowed, a sick feeling in her stomach, she scanned the rest. And right there, gophers on the golf course.
She bit her lip and wondered briefly where the hell one imported gophers from, then shook her head. Did it matter? Someone was doing all of this deliberately. Messing with Mitch’s property, trying to screw up or ruin the launch of the resort. She flipped to the second page and noticed a handwritten note. Her stomach sank as her vision wavered in shock.
Keep up the good work. This is exactly what Mitch asked for. Inflict as much damage as possible before the end of the month.
It was signed with the initials L.N.
* * *
“YOU DIDN’T MENTION your event planner was the little blonde who turned your world upside down a few years back.”
“Belle?” Mitch grimaced and took a drink of his coffee to buy time. “I sent the specs on Eventfully Yours. I’m sure you read her qualifications.”
“Glowing. And nary a mention that she’d once planned the event that left you doing a solo act at the altar.” Typically, Reece’s voice held no judgment. Just a musing sort of curiosity.
“She’s the best planner on the West Coast. Her company is perfect for what I want here, and she’s already proved her worth by coming up with the theme idea that you yourself claimed was brilliant,” Mitch defended. When Reece just stared, Mitch rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Let’s face it, she was right to call it quits six years ago. Getting married was insane. I was the one in the wrong, marrying her to seal that deal with old man Forsham.”
And to prove to everyone, including himself, that he was enough of a hotshot to score the boss’s princess daughter. Mitch might admit that to himself, but he wasn’t about to tell his cousin. Not that, nor the fact that he’d straight up used Belle’s desire, their sexual attraction for each other to manipulate her into the engagement.
“You trust her?” was all Reece said.
Mitch shrugged. “In business, sure.” In bed, too. “I’d think twice if it involved rings or ministers, though.”
Their waiter arrived with lunch and both men fell silent.
Hoping the topic was over, Mitch picked up his knife and fork and cut into his Baja grilled chicken. Reece lifted his Angus burger, but before taking a bite he gestured with it and claimed, “Your girl’s nervous about something. Might be the past. Might be more. I’m going to do a little checking.”
“Don’t bother,” Mitch said, his brow furrowing. “I trust Belle, okay?”
“Glad to hear it. Trust always makes the sex hotter, I’m sure.” Reece’s grin was quick, wicked and knowing. “But someone’s deliberately screwing with you and this resort, cuz. And I find it mighty curious that you’re having all these unexplained problems right about the same time your ex shows up. Can’t hurt to poke around.”
All Mitch heard was deliberately.
“You’re sure it’s sabotage?” he asked, all defensiveness over his past mistakes forgotten.
“Looks like.”
“Check everyone.” Fury flashed like a strobe light behind Mitch’s eyes. Deliberately. He’d worked his ass off to get this far and someone was trying to ruin him. He clenched his fist, anger burning in his gut. He’d be damned if they’d get away with it. “I want whoever is behind this caught and strung up.”
“And if it’s the pretty blonde?”
Frowning, Mitch thought of Belle. Her smile, the laughter and fun she had teasing him. Mr. Winkles and the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide. The sexy way she walked across the room and the mewling sound she made when she came.
“It’s not her,” he declared, trying to shrug off the idea. “But before you tell me it’s your job to check everyone thoroughly, I’m saying go ahead. Just don’t be surprised to find out you’re wrong.”
Worry pounded at his temples until Mitch forced himself to think the situation through. Once he did, he was able to relax a little. After all, Belle might be a lot of things. A little flaky, impulsive and quick to react without thinking. Sexy, flirtatious and sweet, definitely. But the one thing he was positive about was that she wasn’t a liar.