The Magnate's Marriage Merger. Joanne Rock

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СКАЧАТЬ warmer over the last two hours. Once outside, he flicked open the top button on his shirt beneath his tie, knowing full well this noontime excursion wasn’t going to be all about work and knowing with even more certainty that his rising temperature had more to do with the woman in step beside him than the sun above him.

      “This way.” He pointed toward the valet at the next hotel over, grateful the attendant behind the small stand noticed Ian and sent one of the younger workers into the parking garage with a set of keys.

      No doubt his rented convertible BMW would be driven out soon enough. He ushered Lydia to one side of the street while they waited, his hand brushing the small of her back just long enough to feel the gentle glide of silk on his fingertips and the warmth of her body underneath.

      The South Beach scenery—palm trees, exotic cars, brilliant blue water and beach bodies parading to and from the shore on the other side of the street—was nothing to him. Lydia had his undivided attention.

      “You just happened to be in Miami?” She turned on him suddenly, the frustration that had been banked earlier finding fresh heat now that they were alone. “On a job that has nothing to do with McNeill Resorts or your personal development company?”

      He caught a hint of her fragrance, something tropical that stood out from the scent of the hibiscus hedge behind her.

      “I am here to see you.” He saw no need to hide his intentions. “Although even I didn’t realize until recently how much unfinished business remained between us.”

      “So pick up the phone.” She bit out the words with careful articulation, though her voice remained quiet. “There was no need to fly fifteen hundred miles to ambush me on my project.”

      “Our project,” he reminded her, letting the “ambush” remark slide. “And I saw no sense in calling you when you purposely went into hiding after we left Rangiroa.” He’d been furious that she’d blocked him in every way possible, giving him no access to her unless he wanted to be truly obnoxious about seeing her. He refused to be that guy who wouldn’t give up on a woman who wanted nothing to do with him.

      “You knew how I felt about public scandals.” She hugged her arms around herself for a moment, eliciting an unwelcome twinge of empathy from him.

      With a very famous father and a mother who was unrepentant about going after his billions, Lydia had received way too much media attention as a child and straight through her teen years. Her parents were the kind of media spectacle that the tabloids cashed in on again and again. In Lydia’s eyes, all her mother had done was to destroy Lydia’s relationships with her father’s family.

      “You had no reason to believe I would ever make our affair public.” He spotted the silver Z4 rolling out of the parking garage and pointed out the vehicle to her. “You know me better than that.”

      “I only thought I knew you, Ian.”

      She didn’t need to say any more than that for him to hear the damning accusation behind the words as they headed toward the car.

      Tipping the valet service, Ian grudgingly allowed one of the other attendants to close Lydia’s door behind her, not surprised the thin veneer of civility between them was already wearing thin. He’d cared deeply about her and he was sure she’d once felt the same about him. The raw hurt of tearing things apart had left them both full of resentments, it seemed.

      Indulging those bitter emotions wasn’t going to get him what he wanted, however. His objective remained to find out what she was doing messing with his life and his family’s welfare through her so-called matchmaking efforts.

      “Do you mind having the top down?” he asked. They’d shared a Jeep with no top to roam around the French Polynesian island a year ago, but the stiff-shouldered woman in his passenger seat today bore little resemblance to the laughing, tanned lover of those days.

      “It’s fine.” She reached into the leather tote at her feet and retrieved a dark elastic hair band that she used to twist her hair into a tail and then a loop so the pieces were all tucked away somehow. “Maybe having some fresh air blowing around this conversation will help us keep our tempers.”

      He pulled out of the hotel parking area and onto Ocean Drive.

      “Either that or the Miami heat will only fire things up more.” The question was would it result in hot frustration? Or hotter lust?

      Seeing her arranging her long, dark hair had already affected him, and he knew his brain had stored away the image to return to later.

      In slow motion.

      “I prefer to think optimistically.” She leaned back in her seat as he slowly drove north through heavy traffic that still didn’t come close to the gridlock that plagued this city in the evenings. “So where are we going?” She swiveled in her seat. “There are more of the traditional art deco buildings to the south of us, I think.”

      “That may be, but I’ve got a spot in mind that will give us the lay of the land first.” He needed to get her alone. Somewhere private where he could focus his full attention on the conversation.

      “The lay of the land?” She shielded her eyes and peered ahead of them. “Florida isn’t exactly famous for its high ground.”

      “That’s what penthouses are for.” He steered into the right lane where the street began to widen even as the traffic didn’t seem to lessen.

      “A penthouse?” She shifted to face him in her seat, her eyes narrowing. “You can’t be serious.”

      “You’ll like this, trust me.”

      “Not your penthouse?” she pressed.

      Was that a hint of nervousness in her voice? Either she didn’t trust him or she didn’t trust herself. He tucked that intriguing thought away.

      “I took the penthouse suite at the Setai.” He pointed to the luxury hotel looming just ahead of them. “It comes with access to a private rooftop pool. We can speak up there and take in the whole art deco district at the same time.”

      “You’re in the penthouse at the Setai?” She turned her attention to the front of the hotel as he steered the BMW toward the waiting valet. “One of the ten most expensive suites in the known world?”

      “Is it?” He didn’t usually indulge in that kind of extravagance when he traveled, but then, this wasn’t his usual brand of business trip. “Then it’s a property that will appeal to the designer in you.”

      He wondered if she would have agreed if it weren’t for the private valet and concierge service already giving them the red carpet treatment as the car pulled up. Lydia’s attention was on the attendant who opened her door. Another attendant offered to help with her tote as he discreetly asked what she might require.

      That alone made the suite pay for itself, because in the end, Lydia got on the private elevator with Ian and headed to the fortieth floor where they could be alone.

      * * *

      Lydia, you have lost your mind.

      She’d been so distracted by the gracious service as she entered the famous hotel that she’d somehow ended up speeding her way toward Ian McNeill’s private penthouse suite. She wished it was as simple СКАЧАТЬ