Devlin Dynasty 2: Fall Fury (4 page)

“Worked for Aidan and Lissa.”

“That was different.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know, just different. They were different. Hell, Kait, we all felt their connection, and close your mouth right now because I know what you’re going to say. There is no connection between me and Max Devlin. Nothing. Zip. I don’t feel a damn thing. So quit comparing us to Aidan and Lissa. This whole conversation is ridiculous.”

“And yet you’re going out to dinner with him.”

“He asked me to, said he didn’t know anything about where to eat. Now you

know Mom would have my hide if I left a newcomer to fend for himself.”

“Uh huh.” Kaitlyn crossed her arms, giving Shannon her classic
 
I’m right and

you know it
 
look.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? Don’t you have some event to plan?”

Nonplussed, Kaitlyn grinned. “Not really. Thought I’d just hang out here and seeyou and Max off to dinner.”

Shannon rolled her eyes at her sister. They fought like this all the time. For aslong as she could remember, she and Kaitlyn had tiffs. Sometimes shoutingmatches. Many times lots of weather was exchanged. Spring and fall storms…very volatile. Until their mother stepped in the middle and put an end to it.

But as quick as the storm rolled in, it blew itself out. She and Kaitlyn adored eachother. Sparring was second nature to them. Shannon knew that Kaitlyn was just alittle too in love with the idea of her brothers and sisters falling in love. Shewished her sister would focus her attentions on finding a man for herself insteadof playing matchmaker for everyone else.

“Oh look, here he comes,” Kaitlyn announced, giggling like a schoolgirl.

Shannon rolled her eyes. As if Max were the King of England or something. Hegrinned as he approached. “How lucky can a guy get? Here are two of the mostbeautiful women in New Orleans.”

Kaitlyn smiled. Shannon snorted and said, “Shall we go?”

“In a hurry?” he asked.

“Yes. My favorite television program is on tonight. Can’t miss it.”

“Ignore her, Max,” Kaitlyn chimed in. “You two have a great time. Shannon

knows all the best places to eat.”

“Kaitlyn, would you like to come with us?” he asked.

Shannon glanced at her sister, sending her mental signals to say yes. The lastthing she wanted was to be alone with Max tonight. She was already kickingherself for agreeing to have dinner with him without inviting one of the otherfamily members along. Where was her brain?

“No, thank you. I already have plans. In fact, I’m late. Gotta run!” She waved and

scurried to the elevators.

Traitor. Shannon knew Kaitlyn had no plans tonight. Matchmaking little sneak.

Resigned, she turned to Max. “What would you like to have tonight?”

He arched a brow and didn’t say a word, but his lips curled in a smile that couldonly be described as sexually lethal.

“How about I just let you be in charge of…what I’m having tonight?” he

suggested, the grin never leaving his face.

Ignoring the way he looked at her, she asked, “You’re letting me decide? Wow,that’s a first already. Sure you trust my judgment?”

“As it relates to food, yes.”

“Fine. Let’s go.” She turned, wanting to hurry them along and hopefully keep her distance from Max, but he stayed in step beside her, resting his hand on her lower back as they moved to the doors. She nearly tripped over her shoes at the possessive feel of his hand on her, her skin on fire from his touch even though several layers of clothing separated his hand from her body.

Mentally cursing her traitorous body, she suffered him touching her as theyheaded outside and down the street. Solicitous to the point of great annoyance, hecontinued to touch her, directing her one way or the other with the slightestpressure of his hand against her back.

Really, it wasn’t as if he knew where he was going. And she couldn’t even moveahead of him because he kept pace with her no matter if she walked quickly orslowly. Damn, was this guy possessive or what?

Fortunately, the restaurant was only a couple blocks from the hotel. The day’sheat still lingered and perspiration settled between her breasts, making her wishshe’d changed into something cooler than her suit and blouse. As it was, the silkclung to her and she prayed desperately for the cool air conditioning of therestaurant. Otherwise, she might just have to strip.

And she’d just bet that Max would like that, too. Well, not a chance. She’d justperspire to death instead.

They walked inside the dimly lit restaurant. Why she chose Arnaud’s wasunfathomable. Most likely because it was close and she was hot. It had nothing todo with the ambience of romance that permeated every corner of the room. No,she sure as hell wouldn’t have brought Max in here if she’d thought about ittwice. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the wrong impression. Bad

enough he had latched onto her hand earlier today and forced her rather windy

reaction.

“Nice place,” he said. And there went that hand again, gravitating to the small of

her back as the maître d’ approached.

“
Bon soir
, Francois,” she said as the gray-mustached waiter hurried over.

“Mademoiselle Storm!” She’d known Francois her entire life. He had to be in his late sixties by now, and yet still filled with as much abundant energy as he’d been when she was a child. He was merely a little rounder and a lot grayer now than he was back then.

“We are so happy to see you here tonight!” He nodded and smiled at Max. “
Bon soir
, Monsieur. Would you care to be seated in the main restaurant, or a more private dining area?”

“Out here is fine, Francois.” The last thing she wanted was to eat in a private dining room with Max. Definitely keep things public with him. Public, businesslike and totally hands off.

They were seated at a corner table overlooking the street. She’d always lovedsitting by the windows. The leaded glass caught and held the sun during thedaylight hours, filtering the rays until a kaleidoscope of color cascaded throughthe windows and onto the floors. The atmosphere made her feel transportedbackward in time, when opulence and beauty was the norm of the day. Shestudied the mosaic floors, remembering coming here with her parents, countingeach colorful tile while her parents had their own conversations.

When she looked up, Max was watching her. Neither smiling nor frowning, helooked as if he were studying her, measuring her, making some kind of decisionabout her.

Suddenly uncomfortable, she cleared her throat and signaled for their waiter.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” she asked.

“How about a bottle?”

Shannon had been drinking wine since she was old enough to hold a glass. It wasa matter of culture here. And she was damn near expert in the different types of

wine, including what had a fancy label and expensive price tag, but no flavor, and how to spot a wine amateur in a matter of seconds. She sat back and offered a smug smile. “Sure. You go ahead and order.”

He arched a brow and took the wine list from the waiter, scanned it quickly, andordered a bottle of her favorite Chardonnay.

Well, hell. No amateur there. Or maybe it was just a lucky guess.

“I take it you don’t object to my choice?” he asked, smirking.

Why did she have this sudden urge to slap that smile off his face? “No. It’s fine.”

They sipped their drinks and ordered dinner. Shannon stared out the window, but Max looked only at her. Damned disconcerting, too. Did she have a zit on hernose or something? She’d never met someone so incredibly intense, or soblatantly interested in just looking at her.

Despite the air conditioning in the restaurant, her body heated, all too aware of hiswandering looks

“So, what kind of PR campaign ideas do you have?” she asked, hoping if she could get him talking about business, he’d quit looking at her as if
she
 
was his intended meal.

“I don’t want to talk business tonight. We can do that tomorrow.”

“What do you want to talk about, then?” And if he hadn’t wanted to discuss public relations for the hotel, why the hell had he invited her to dinner? Maybe she didn’t really want to know the answer to that question, after all.

“I want to talk about you.”

“I don’t.”

His green eyes turned more golden. “You don’t strike me as the shy type.”

“I’m not. But my personal life isn’t any of your business.”

“Oh, but you’re wrong. It’s every bit my business,” he answered, then took a long

swallow of the wine. She watched, his Adam’s apple undulating with the movement of his throat. When he finished, he licked his lips. She tried not to be enticed by the flicking tip of his tongue around that sensual mouth of his. “I have to know about you, about your family, their history and how it all relates to The Rising Storm.”

“My family’s personal life has nothing to do with The Rising Storm.”

“A good public relations campaign,” he started, accentuating the
 
good
 
part as if what she’d done so far had been crap, “starts from the ground and moves up. That means your family’s background and how they became hoteliers is the basis with which we start our plan.”

Did she look like an idiot? “No, the PR is strictly for the hotel/casino venture. Thepeople of Louisiana have heard about the Storm family before. We’ve run thatpublic relations gamut many times.”

He poured more wine for them. “That’s fine for Louisiana. Do you only want thepeople of Louisiana visiting your hotel, or do you want this campaign to reach outnationally, even internationally?”

She gripped the stem of her glass and tried not to grit her teeth. “We’re way toosmall an organization to branch out internationally.”

His grin made her heart race. What would that smile look like if it had beenturned on her in wicked passion? An involuntary shudder passed through her. Why the hell was she thinking these kind of thoughts about him? Really, this wasall too much. She mentally summoned a cooling breeze, hopefully subtle enoughthat Max would assume it was simply the restaurant’s air conditioning.

“You’ll never be successful if you don’t think big, Shannon. International travelers are always looking for unique vacation spots. New Orleans has a charm and old-world ambience that is unique to Louisiana. Coupled with the magic present here, you’ve got a huge potential market you haven’t begun to tap into yet.”

Magic? She almost laughed. He really had no idea what kind of magic whirledaround him. It irked her that she had never thought beyond a statewide campaign. Max was a big dreamer, obviously. Head in the clouds. She was more groundedin reality.

“Yes, of course I’ve thought of taking public relations through a national sweep.

But if you’d bother to read my outline—”

“I’ve read it. Your plan is only to launch statewide at first.”

“Yes, I know what it says. I wrote it, remember?” She knew she sounded like a shrew, but frankly didn’t care. She’d warned Logan that bringing an outsider in would only screw things up. “The long-range planning includes a nationwide program, but not until we gauge the success of the statewide campaign.”

“Too slow. Need to step it up and launch nationwide immediately.”

“I don’t agree. It’s best to begin conservatively, then see how the numbers pan out

after the first six months.”

He picked up a breadstick and took a bite, then pointed it at her. “Bullshit. If youwait, you waste momentum. You’ll get the biggest hits in a grand opening launch. Take your pre-opening and grand opening and do it nationwide. Do some charityevents, get the Storm name out there as philanthropists. Get your parents or Logan to sit on a board of some national and international corporations. Then seta quick timeline and take it worldwide. We could even do an international launchthat coincides with the nationwide. In fact, because of the time involved in all thelanguage translations, we should start on that right away.”

She tapped her foot on the tile floor, grateful for the wine to calm her down. As itwas, her blood was boiling, frustration giving her an overwhelming desire towhack Max upside the head with the empty wine bottle. He clearly wasn’tlistening. She was in charge here!

Their dinner arrived, but Shannon could only pick at the delectable troutmeunière, her appetite shattered with questions, insecurities and general irritationat having to deal with Max Devlin. He, however, had no such issues, and wolfeddown his bloody rare filet mignon like a man starving. He didn’t even seemuncomfortable with her cold silence.

Were all men so completely clueless as to a woman’s emotional state, or was itjust Max’s head that was so thick?

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, apparently noticing for the first time that she

hadn’t eaten.

“Not really.”

He waved his fork toward her. “You’re too skinny. You need some meat to fattenyou up a bit.”

She snorted. That was the first time she’d heard any man complain. And what waswrong with her body, anyway? She wasn’t the least bit thin, in fact thoughtherself average in build. Not heavy, not thin, just average for her height. Sheplayed tennis, she ran, and stayed in shape. Mainly to keep her energy level high,but she admittedly loved to run. Fast, hard and at great distances. Running gaveher time to unwind, to think, to release the stress she always carried inside her.