Millionaire's Wedding Revenge / Stranded with the Tempting Stranger. Brenda Jackson

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      His deep voice buffeted her like the warm jets of a hot tub.

      This is not going to work, she thought. How could she stand to work with him when she couldn’t even think straight?

      Yet, she had no choice. After Stephen had left her office yesterday, she’d gone to see Conrad. The meeting had confirmed everything Stephen had said: everyone else in the office was too busy with other projects to be the lead person on the Garrison Grand, and they were looking to her to be a team player.

      Now, as Stephen called the elevator and they rode up together, she felt the air between them fairly crackle with tension.

      When they stepped out on the second floor, they walked down a hallway with recessed lighting along either side of its carpeted floor.

      He gave her a quick tour of the business center and various conference rooms. They ended up at the end of the hall, where Stephen opened a set of double doors and ushered her inside the last empty conference room.

      As she walked past him, she was careful not to brush against him. She didn’t think she could stand it.

      This conference room contained a long, rectangular, glass-topped table that looked as if it could seat twenty. Like the others, the decor was modern, with high-backed office chairs and all the proper business amenities: phones, a flat-screen television with a DVD player, and a projection screen that appeared as if it was normally hidden behind a wooden wall panel.

      “I find it hard to believe,” she observed after looking around and turning back to Stephen, “that anyone can work in paradise’s playground.”

      It was a thought that had increasingly hit her during their brief tour.

      A smile slashed across Stephen’s face. “I do,” he said, then added drily, “That’s why you can’t see the beach from this room or the others.”

      She walked farther into the room, trailing her fingertips along the top of the table before setting her purse down, putting together the thoughts and ideas that had been formulating since the beginning of their tour.

      He watched her.

      “Very modern,” she mused.

      “Very,” he agreed, “but I’m not looking for merely modern. I want different—unique—and that means changing to stay ahead of our competitors.”

      She turned to face him. “Are you thinking of the Hotel Victoria?”

      “Just back in town, and you’ve heard of it already,” he quipped.

      She lifted her shoulders. “I’m an interior designer. Of course I’m interested in news of a hotel opening.”

      “Well, don’t be too impressed,” he advised. “Jordan Jefferies is an imitator, not an innovator, and I’m more than ready for a fight.”

      Stephen’s comments reminded her of everything she knew about him from four years ago. He was still strong-willed, powerful and competitive.

      Seeking to change the direction of the conversation, she said, “The conference rooms are different from the rest of the hotel. They don’t have the same white theme—”

      His lips quirked. “We were looking for something a little more professional for the business rooms. White is the ultimate indulgence.”

      “Decadent luxury,” she agreed.

      It was what his celebrity guests came for. She could only imagine what his cleaning bill amounted to for the hotel. She knew most of the guest rooms were decorated in white, with splashes of color lent mostly by fresh flowers and marble accents.

      But then again, given the room rate at the Garrison Grand, she could well imagine Stephen seeing healthy profits.

      She thought about the suite at the hotel that Stephen kept for his personal use. It had also been done in white, she recollected. But unlike the other suites in the hotel, the room rate there had been a night of passion in Stephen’s bed.

      She felt herself heat at the thought.

      “What are you thinking?” he said, and she jumped.

      “I was just mulling the possibilities,” she said quickly, trying to cover her lapse. “It occurred to me to do a takeoff on the decor in the rest of the hotel. White and dark blue. White leather, midnight-blue velvet. Different textures, different fabrics.”

      She spoke rapidly, sketching her idea for him, the thoughts spilling from her. “White to echo the calming relaxation of the rest of the hotel, midnight-blue for business. Navy is a business color, but we’ll subtly undermine it by casting it in sinful velvet and giving it a unique hue.”

      His long-ago familiar lopsided smile appeared. “Tell me more.”

      It was easy to think sinful in his presence, she wanted to tell him.

      Her heart beat rapidly.

      There was a time, four years ago, when they’d been so hot for each other, they’d have abandoned their business meeting to sneak away upstairs and have frantic sex in his hotel suite, kissing and holding hands in the elevator as soon as the doors closed.

      Or he’d have locked the door, and taken her right here.

      Not anymore.

      And she shouldn’t be having such lascivious thoughts about a client, she reminded herself. Particularly him. She was mommy material now.

      She glanced around. “We’ll replace the wood paneling with sound-soak material to help with the acoustics and lighting. It comes in an off-white color, but with a suede finish, so it’ll blend with the decor.”

      He smiled. “Sounds good.”

      “It’ll sound even better when I’ve had time to draw up plans,” she responded as she walked back toward him. “We’ll need to move the business center, too. It should be convenient but less obtrusive. Right now, from what I saw, it has too much glass, in my opinion.”

      “I’m liking it even more,” he replied.

      “Aren’t you lucky, then, that you got me before Jordan Jefferies did?” she joked, then could have bitten off her tongue as Stephen’s eyes darkened.

      She watched as his gaze traveled over her. “Yeah, I got you,” he drawled before he met her gaze. “The question is, when will I have you again?”

      Her stomach flipped. “Never.”

      “Never is a long time, sweetheart.”

      “I thought we agreed to keep this relationship strictly professional.”

      “We did?” he murmured.

      “That would put sexual innuendo on the wrong side of the line,” she informed him.

      “How about dinner?” he asked, his voice flippant even as his look heated her all over. “Would СКАЧАТЬ