Business or Pleasure? (5 page)

“So…” Her voice was tight and breathy, making him look up to see what was wrong. Her widened eyes, her flushed cheeks and her crinkled brow were all it took to let him know he'd been staring.

He felt like a high school boy caught looking up the cheerleader's skirt. He cleared his throat and grabbed as many bags as he could gather with both hands. “Looks like we're going to be stuck with it for a while,” he said and indicated that she should precede him with a tip of his chin. “Let's go see how bad it really is.”

Daisy's amusement at Alec's inability to plan anything more complicated than getting out of bed in the morning died a few minutes later when she saw where they were going to be staying for the time being.

Actually, she thought as she walked across the cool, tiled floor, if not for the fact that she had no intention of spending the summer sleeping anywhere near him, the suite would have been perfect. The common room would be a great field office—large and full of light, it had three big tables, a few upholstered chairs, and enough space for all the equipment Alec had hopefully arranged to have shipped over. A quaint kitchenette was tucked almost out of sight at the back of the suite and a little garden lay beyond two immense French doors that faced the sea.

The rest of it, though, was a problem. The bedrooms, while nicely appointed, were essentially separated by only a dressing area and a large, well-equipped bathroom.

Alec rapped at a shared wall, testing for solidity and, presumably, soundproofing. “You don't snore, do you?”

“I wouldn't know,” she said absently as she peered into a closet.

“None of your boyfriends have ever mentioned it?”

“I've never…” Wait a dang minute, she thought as she closed the closet door with a thud. She didn't have to tell him any of the details of her life and she certainly wasn't going
to tell him she'd never had a boyfriend. It was too humiliating—and none of his business.

Daisy turned to face him and was surprised to find that he'd moved closer. Too close, she thought, as the scant foot that separated them shrank to six inches when he took another step toward her. “Umm,” she stammered lamely. Her breasts tingled with awareness and need as she tried to remember what she'd been about to say. It was going to be something scathing, something that would put him in his place permanently.

“Snoring?” he prompted as he stared at her mouth, making her lick her lower lip self-consciously.

“Oh,” she said finally. “Well, no one's ever mentioned it, anyway.” A broad window that looked out over the Santa Margarita bay framed Alec's powerful body, silhouetting him against the brilliant hues of blue sky and ocean behind him. The view was gorgeous. She mentally claimed this room if they were forced to stay.

“Good,” he said but his expression turned cloudy before he turned and stalked toward the common room. “Then I guess we'll have to take it. Let's just try to stay out of each other's way as much as possible.”

Great. A three-month platonic slumber party with a man who's been starring in my erotic dreams for the past year.
But instead she said to his retreating back, “I'm game if you are. And don't worry. After we have dinner with the Baldwins tonight, I'm going to go meet Troy and his friends so you'll have some time alone right from the get-go.”

By the time he turned around—and it didn't take long—his expression had gone from merely cloudy to a full-blown storm. “You aren't serious.”

“Sure I am,” she said, although she hadn't given it much thought until he'd made that crack about staying out of each other's way.
The big jerk.
“I figure I'll be here for a few months. And I certainly don't want to impose on you for my social life.” Even though she was pretending to examine the bedding, she chanced a glance at him through her lashes.

Uh-oh. Tornado warning.

“Fine,” he said, his voice tight. She checked, but his posture and expression weren't transmitting
fine.
“But if you insist on going, I'm going with you.”

Annoyance prickled along her spine. If there was one thing she didn't need, it was another big brother. And even if she did, Alec would not be on the short list of candidates. “No, thanks,” she said.
If you come with me, I'll just want to be alone with you.
“I'd rather go by myself.”

Exaggerated patience rang in his voice when he said, “Daisy, I'm responsible for you.”

That sent her from merely annoyed to just plain mad in two seconds flat. What was it about her that made the men in her life treat her like she was a helpless child? More important, why couldn't this
particular
man see her as a woman? After all, there was no difference between her and any of his bimbo girlfriends, and she didn't see him following
them
around feeling burdened by responsibility.

“The
hell
you are, Alec,” she said firmly. “I'm a grown woman, going to a party I was invited to by a friend.”

“Hey,” he said with a shrug and a tone that brooked no argument. “Your friend invited me, too. And I'm going.”

Daisy had to bite her tongue—literally—to keep from telling him where he really
could
go. So rather than say something she'd surely regret, she swept passed him, stormed
outside and grabbed Bam Bam's carrier and the remaining bags. When she returned, Alec was setting up his laptop on one of the large tables in what had just become their field office.

“The front bedroom is mine,” she said, spoiling for another fight and wondering how he'd gotten so far under her skin so fast.

“Fine with me, but keep that cat in there. Cats and I don't get along.”

“That's a shocker,” she said with a sniff.

She banged her bags into a wall or two in her haste to leave the room, but still heard him call after her, “Dinner's in an hour.”

“Right,” she mumbled under her breath. “Like I'm the one who's late for everything.”

“What?”

“Sure thing,” she sang out with exaggerated sweetness. And with that, she closed her door firmly, threw her bags on the bed, freed her agitated cat and wondered how on earth she could still be pining for someone who could make her this mad.

D
inner with the Baldwins turned out to be just the distraction Daisy needed. The only thing that kept it from being perfect was that Virginia had seated Alec so close to Daisy that their elbows touched constantly, so close that the warm, spicy scent of him constantly sent her mind wandering. So close, in fact, that the heat from his body made her feel like scootching her chair away from him so she wouldn't get burned.

But she didn't. She sat still, stayed focused on the conversation and forced herself to steal only sporadic glimpses of him out of the corner of her eye. He looked positively dishy in a dark-blue silk shirt and black pants. His mahogany hair was just unkempt enough to tempt her to drag her fingers through it. His smile and his laughter were quick and genuine.

She'd been out of her mind to take this job. They'd only
been here half a day and he was already driving her crazy. How was she going to handle ninety-odd more?

There was an up side, however, and it was that Daisy now found herself among friends. Joseph Baldwin was charming and witty, Virginia was a wonderful hostess, and their beautiful island home, perched high above the town of Paloma, was comfortable while still screaming style and sophistication. During a meal that had been prepared by the Baldwins' personal chef, their hosts gave them an entertaining history of Santa Margarita and spoke of their excitement at finally realizing their dream of restoring the old mansions.

“Are you sure I haven't told you this story already?” Virginia asked as the final course was served. When they assured her she hadn't, she went on with her story. “A long time ago, my father owned a movie studio. You may have heard of it. Cosmopolitan Pictures?”

Daisy and Alec both nodded. Everyone had heard of Cosmopolitan Pictures. The studio had made some of Daisy's favorite classic films.

“In the studio's heyday, my father bought up the majority of the land on this island so he would have a safe place for his most famous actors and actresses to come and vacation. That way he could keep an eye on them
and
keep their names out of the gossip columns.”

She went on to explain how the island grew up around the seven mansions he'd built for his stable of stars to party in, how one particularly savvy and beautiful actress of the depression era, Paloma Estrella, had convinced him to build a casino and to bring in businesses like bars and grocery stores and laundries and motels. “And that was the start of
the town of Paloma. It seemed only fair to him that the town be named after his inspiration.”

“What an exciting childhood you must have had,” Daisy said, smiling at the wistfulness on Virginia's face. “All those glamorous people.”

“I'm afraid I was in boarding school most of the year, but the summers here with my mother and father were magical,” she said with a smile that made her look years younger. “Watching those mansions slowly fall apart for the past thirty years has depressed me. That's one reason I'm so anxious to see them full of people and life and laughter again.”

While they finished their dinner, Virginia explained that the properties had been tied up in the courts after Cosmopolitan Pictures was sold off, piece by piece, upon her father's death.

“In the end,” Joseph said as a maid cleared away the last of the dishes, “the fact that the properties were under court protection is probably the only thing that kept them from being sold to a developer and torn down.”

When the two couples moved to the terrace, Joseph and Virginia settled onto one overstuffed rattan love seat, leaving the other for Alec and Daisy. Alec waited for her to take a seat, but after eyeing the intimate space, she opted to stand at the terrace's railing to watch the activity on Paloma's dock and main street below. A moment later, Alec finally sat down and asked the Baldwins to tell him about the architect who had designed their beautiful hillside home.

Only a very few cars were permitted on the island at any one time, so golf carts were the transportation of choice. Most locals drove them, and visitors, like Daisy and Alec, usually used one provided by their hotel. The result of this
was that the town looked Lilliputian from her vantage point—little white carts darted about and people honked their high-pitched horns as they waited impatiently to maneuver into miniature stalls in tiny parking lots. Daisy found it all vaguely disorienting, as if she'd been transported to another dimension.

When the maid appeared with a cart laden with heavenly smelling coffee and several trays of desserts, Daisy reluctantly sat down and tried not to notice the weight and warmth of Alec's big, hunky body as he brushed up against her.

Breathe, she told herself. It'll all be over in a few months. And still her skin flushed hotly as the pressure against her thigh increased and her body responded to Alec's nearness in that traitorous way it had almost since the first day she'd met him.

“So, Alec,” Virginia said as she passed a cup of coffee to him. “I've been meaning to ask you. How's your mother?”

Daisy had taken countless messages from Alec's mother over the years and spoken to her dozens of times. Barbara Mackenzie had a rushed, clipped voice and a way of speaking that always reminded Daisy of someone who was hailing a cab. Yet right at that moment, Daisy realized that she didn't know anything else about Alec's mother—not even what she looked like. Now that she thought about it, he didn't have any family pictures in his office at all.

Alec hesitated slightly before passing a cup of coffee on to Daisy. “Fine,” he said at last. “I believe she's in Florence at the moment.”

“Oh, no. Last I heard,” Virginia said as she opened a little blue packet and stirred sweetener into her coffee, “she was back in London appraising some of the royal family's jewelry.”

“Is that right?” Alec asked, but not like it was a question. More like he didn't care in the least about his mother's whereabouts. “So tell me, Mrs. Baldwin—”

“Virginia,” she interjected.

“Virginia,” Alec said, nodding. “Tell me again how you know Barbara.”

Daisy fumbled her tiny silver teaspoon onto her delicate china saucer.
Barbara?
He called his mother
Barbara?

“Goodness, I can't even remember where we first met,” Virginia said with a questioning glance at her husband. “One function or another. Possibly one of the auctions she organized for Sotheby's years ago. Before she started her own auction house.”

Everyone had heard of Mackenzie Auctioneers, but until this moment, Daisy hadn't known it belonged to Alec's family. As Daisy swung her gaze back to Alec, she marveled at all the things she didn't know about this man who could make her go all breathless and fluttery just by sitting down next to her.

“And,” Alec said with a forced casualness that Daisy recognized from many tense negotiations with contractors, “is that how you found out about my company?”

“I don't think so,” Virginia said slowly, again looking to her husband for help in recalling a detail.

“I read about your work in a trade publication,” Joseph said, coming to his wife's rescue. “As I remember it wasn't a very flattering piece, but the article's pictures told us what we wanted to know.”

Alec felt the tension drain from his body as he thanked Joseph for the compliment. Until tonight he hadn't realized that the Baldwins knew who his mother was, let alone that
they were all old pals from the damned neighborhood. The fact that they'd never mentioned it seemed strange, but the idea that he might owe this job not only to Daisy but to the mother he'd managed to completely avoid for the past few years was too sickening to contemplate.

A warm ocean breeze fluttered across the terrace, bringing with it what Alec was beginning to realize was the scent of Daisy Kincaid. Sweet like sugar, spicy like cinnamon, enticing like fresh-baked cookies, it brought a slow smile to his lips—which was strange since he really didn't feel like smiling at all.

That afternoon in the hotel room, he'd only meant to tease her when he'd asked whether any of her old boyfriends had told her she snored. But when her tongue had darted out to lick those sweet lips of hers, the concept of teasing had gone out the window. At that moment the thought of her with another man had made him mad as hell.

That's why he'd insisted on taking her to Troy's frigging party. That's why he was stuck with her for the rest of the night even though he kept telling himself he should stay far, far away from her. And that's why he was slowly but surely losing his grip—on both his priorities and his sanity.

He chanced a quick look at Daisy and saw the unmistakable glint of curiosity in her wide, dark eyes. The Baldwins were busy poring over a tray of desserts so he said, “What?” in a low voice.

“What was that all about?” she whispered fiercely.

“Nothing.” He shrugged innocently, hoping she'd drop the idea of grilling him about his mother. Had he been that transparent or was Daisy doing that mind-reading thing she did so well?

Daisy looked like she was going to pursue it for a moment, then she glanced past him and put on a sweet expression for the Baldwins who had turned to offer them the tray.

Unfortunately, Alec was sure it was only a temporary reprieve. As he now knew, Daisy was a stubborn little thing. But what she didn't know about him was that she'd finally met her match.

 

The kegger was even worse than Alec had imagined. Hordes of tanned, healthy twenty-and thirty-somethings mingled on the small cottage's patio, each one clutching a brightly colored plastic cup foaming over with beer suds and yelling to be heard above the loud, grating music pouring from four enormous speakers. The men all wore shorts and flip-flops and the same Hawaiian shirts Alec had given to the Goodwill decades earlier. The women all wore tight skirts and skimpy tops and too much makeup. His first impression was that he'd either gone to hell or been tragically transported back to his USC undergrad days.

“Let's get a beer, Alec,” Daisy yelled into his ear over the din.

He looked down to see that her eyes were bright, her expression eager. She'd left her glasses behind tonight and, without them, she looked younger, prettier and much, much more dangerous than he wanted to admit.

He sighed. Her inexplicable excitement about coming to this asinine clambake had at least made her forget about grilling him for more details about that conversation on the terrace. And for that he was grateful, so he yelled, “Okay,” and guided her through the crowd with a gentle hand on the small of her back.

As they fought their way to the keg, the warmth of her body heated his palm and the silky fabric of her dress slid maddeningly across his fingertips. A low flame flared up, and in that moment he knew that he wanted nothing more than for all the people around them to disappear so he could be alone with Daisy Kincaid.

Suddenly the crowd on a tiny, makeshift dance floor surged toward them, running into them both and knocking them off balance. Daisy fell back against him, and he instinctively pulled her behind him to protect her—and then realized his mistake the moment the front of her body pressed up against the back of his.

Her curves burned where they touched him, her breath scorched where it skittered across his neck, her fingers branded him where they intertwined with his.

Damn.

As soon as the crowd had settled down, he stepped away from her, took her small, warm hand in his and rocketed toward the keg. She'd wanted to come to this party and he wasn't about to let her come alone. But now that they were here, he wasn't sure it was such a good idea. She'd been frying his brain all night with that slinky black dress and the seductive sway of her hips as she tottered around on those sexy heels. Hell, it'd been hard enough just sitting next to her at dinner. Now he was supposed to endure this, too?

Daisy frowned. She couldn't imagine what Alec was so upset about. After all,
she
was the one who'd just been unceremoniously yanked behind him like she was a bad child who'd wandered into a busy street. She was the one that had this dang crush that kept getting worse and worse even though she was supposed to be getting over it.

Beer sloshed over the rim of the yellow plastic tumbler Alec thrust into her hand. Then he glanced around the crowded patio as if searching for an escape route. “I'm going to go find the real bar,” he shouted over the music. “Troy must've bought some of the hard stuff with that wad of cash I gave him this afternoon.”

And then, just like that, she was alone.

She frowned at Alec's retreating back, then sternly reminded herself that she hadn't wanted him to come with her, anyway. This was exactly what she'd planned. It was just as well, she thought as she watched him disappear into the crowd. Yep, just as well.

She leaned against the railing that enclosed the patio and took a tiny sip of her beer. It was cold and thick and refreshing. As she licked a bit of foam off her top lip, she looked around at all the happy, tipsy, attractive people, then looked down at her own outfit. Her long black sleeveless dress and heeled sandals had been perfect for the Baldwins' dinner party, but here on Troy's patio she was definitely overdressed compared to all the bare-midriffed, short-skirted, smoky-eyed women all around her. Feeling out of place and nervous, Daisy took several big gulps of her beer in quick succession.

“Daisy!”

A tanned and handsome Troy came up beside her, one beer in each hand, his wide, white grin shining down on her with staggering wattage. “I'm so glad you're here. I didn't think your grouch of a boss was going to set you free for the night. Hey,” he said before she could tell him Alec had come, too, “you look like you're ready for a refill.”

Daisy started to object, then glanced at her cup and was surprised to see it was already empty. “Don't mind if I do,”
she said, plunking her empty yellow cup on the railing and taking a blue one from Troy. Alec really was a grouch. A grouch she couldn't seem to shake out of her fantasies, of course, but she was going to keep trying. “What a great party.”