Название: Tall, Dark And Daring
Автор: Joanne Rock
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474019897
isbn:
Mitch stood. “Okay. You want to take the nickel tour before I walk you upstairs?”
He pulled one of the hotel’s robes off the back of the bathroom door and tossed it around his shoulders. Since his half-dressed state hadn’t made her swoon in appreciation yet, he figured he might as well try another tack.
“I’ve kept my own findings and market research in here.” He opened the door to a second sitting area and wondered if she’d notice the room’s central furnishing. “Just help yourself to anything you might need.”
He gestured to the stacks of brochures and folders on the file cabinets, but Tessa barely gave them a glance. Her eyes were glued to their old make-out couch in the corner.
Her breath caught.
Her cheeks grew pink.
She gulped visibly.
Maybe their weeks together had been as memorable for her as they had been for him.
Although the green love seat used to reside in the library, site of many of their out-of-control kisses, he’d moved the small couch in his office when he bought the ski lodge. Perhaps he wasn’t really playing fair to tease her with it, but he couldn’t resist the temptation to see her reaction.
She looked so much more buttoned-up than she used to. So off-limits.
When he’d first met her, Tessa had searched for adventure around every corner. She was the only girl he’d ever dated who gladly let him teach her how to snowboard. And she’d taken to it like a pro. He doubted she’d ever be so daring now. In her trench coat and navy pumps, she looked more fit for the boardroom than the slopes.
She faced him, cool as you please in spite of the steamy memories the love seat from the library had to call to mind. “Why don’t you box up the files and send them to my room? In fact, I should probably settle in now so I can review my notes before tonight, Mitch. I really can compile a comprehensive plan for your company once I sit down and—”
“I know you can. That’s why I hired you.”
She arched a brow as if she didn’t believe him.
“If you think I hired you because of what happened between us, you’re wrong.” Mostly. “I requested you because you’re reputed to have one of the sharpest marketing minds on the Eastern seaboard.”
That much was true. He’d been amazed to read her bio.
He stood in front of her, making sure to leave enough space between them to reinforce his claim that he only brought her here for business. He couldn’t afford to scare her away. “I need an expert to help me make Mogul Ryders a blowout success.”
Ever since Mitch had lost his ability to compete on the slopes, he’d hung his voracious need to succeed on his business. Tessa would be his ticket to realizing his goals.
She looked him in the eye. “I can do it.”
He shook his head. He didn’t want to hear the pat assurances she’d reel off to any of her clients. “But you said you hadn’t fully researched my company. What if—”
“Frankly, Mitch, if you made snake oil, I could sell it for you with a kick-butt return on your investment.”
He couldn’t help a low whistle of admiration. The cool confidence in her gaze made him a believer. “Really?”
She grinned. “Really.”
Mitch nodded, pleased his company rested in good hands and strangely proud to think Tessa O’Neal had turned into a business dynamo. “Then I guess I’ll show you to your room and let you go to work.”
He ushered her out of his office and toward the elevator. He didn’t need to ask which room she was in. He’d chosen it himself. Number 326, the executive suite.
She shuffled a few of the papers under her arm. “I’ll have at least a portion of this mapped out by dinner. Shall we meet in the hotel restaurant?”
Mitch followed the progress of her stocking-clad ankles as she stepped on to the elevator. “How about we head over to MacRae’s?” he suggested, dropping the name of their favorite restaurant as he punched number three.
Frowning, she cinched the belt around her coat a little tighter. “I don’t know, Mitch. I—”
“They still fry up a mean lake trout.” His mind conjured a wayward image of Tessa in her tan trench coat with nothing on underneath it but high heels. He really shouldn’t torture himself like this.
“You should have gone into my field, Mitch,” she muttered as the elevator doors swished open. “Which way?”
He pointed down the hall. “I’ll take that as a yes?”
She didn’t say anything as she paused in front of her door and slid the key into the lock. When the green light appeared, she pushed her way inside then turned to face him. She stood there a moment, poised in the entry, propping the door open with her hip. “Yes.”
The word hit him with the force of a mogul at high speed—jolting his whole body and launching him through the air. God, but she packed a provocative punch.
She looked at him, her breathing a little fast, her cheeks tinged with color. Right then, Mitch knew he wasn’t the only one who had mentally replayed every moment of their time together in the years since they’d seen each other.
He would have kissed her if he didn’t think she might turn around and hop the first plane back to Miami.
But maybe she’d relax around him after they tied up their business.
“Meet you in the lobby around seven?”
She nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Backing away, he opted for a quick retreat before he did something stupid, like tug on the ties of that trench coat until it fell to her feet.
The door swung shut between them, but it didn’t stop him from envisioning her every move behind it. Would she have that coat off yet?
Mitch hoped Tessa was every inch the marketing genius she was reputed to be, because the quicker they dispensed with the business portion of her trip, the faster he could get her back to that love seat in his office to relive a few fond memories.
2
HE’D KEPT the love seat.
No matter how much she tried to concentrate on developing a marketing plan, that one thought kept recurring in her brain.
Tessa paced the suite bedroom in her towel as she read over Mitch’s file for the third time since her bubble bath.
Why had he moved the love seat into his offices? Didn’t he remember what they had shared on that glorified pine bench? Or worse, what if he did?
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