Who Needs Mistletoe?. Kate Hoffmann

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СКАЧАТЬ had to do with him, and how much with his money. But now that the trust fund he’d inherited from his grandfather’s estate was virtually gone, he’d had to make some changes.

      In less than a year, when he turned thirty, his father would decide whether to give him his share of the larger Shelton family trust, millions set aside for each Shelton heir, controlled by a man who thought Peter Shelton III had nothing substantial to offer the world.

      To prove himself, Trey had gone to work for Shelton Hotels, focusing on a new division that developed smaller, more exclusive resorts, the kind of properties that appealed to his celebrity friends.

      To Trey’s surprise, he enjoyed the work. He’d found himself building resorts in his head—from the basic architecture to the linens in the rooms. After living in hotels nearly his entire adult life, Trey knew what worked and what didn’t. And he was beginning to wonder if he might have something to offer the family business.

      It was still a rather revolutionary concept—Trey Shelton, giving up the fast life for a real job. He figured he’d decide what to do with his future once he convinced his father to release his share of the Shelton family trust. If he still found the job appealing, then maybe he’d stick around.

      He looked over at Sophie. She seemed quite relaxed behind the controls, as if she’d been a pilot for a long time. “Where did you learn how to fly?” he asked.

      “I just picked it up. I flew all the time with my father, and one day we were doing preflight together and he put me in the pilot’s seat and we took off. He taught me what I needed to know and I got my license.”

      “How old were you?” Trip asked.

      She smiled as she remembered. “I was twelve when I first got behind the controls.” Sophie laughed softly. “I think my dad always wanted a son. So, for a while, I was happy to become that son.”

      “I think you make a much better girl than a boy,” he teased.

      Trey watched her face as another smile curled the corners of her pretty mouth. Maybe she wasn’t immune to his charms, after all. He certainly found Sophie intriguing. He didn’t see a wedding band, so she probably wasn’t married, but beyond that, his radar wasn’t working. He couldn’t seem to read her reactions to him. Had she been flattered by the compliment or just amused at the attempt?

      He reached out, curious to push the issue a bit further. His movement startled her, causing her to draw away. “Sorry,” he said, pointing to her cheek. “You have a smudge of grease there and it’s been bothering me.”

      “Really?” She reached up and rubbed her cheek, missing it entirely. “There?”

      Trey shook his head. “Do you mind?”

      Sophie hesitated, then shook her head. “Not at all.”

      He gently rubbed a spot just above her jaw, the grease wiping away easily. Yet he didn’t stop. Instead, Trey continued to smooth his thumb over her soft skin, fascinated by the silken feel of it. “There,” he finally said. “Perfect.”

      She seemed to be as affected by his touch as he was, shifting uneasily in her seat and trying to focus her attention on the instruments in front of her. If she’d been driving a car, he might have asked her to pull over so they could explore his attraction in a little greater detail. But unfortunately, there weren’t any curbs in the sky and one couldn’t just park a plane in the middle of a flight.

      Trey slowly pulled his hand away. “When will we see our first island?” he asked.

      “I’m heading out to Suaneva first and then we’ll work our way back to Tahiti.”

      They flew for a long time in silence, Trey studying a report on power-generating windmills he’d brought with him in between watching her. He’d been right to call her exotic. Though she spoke like an American, she acted more like the French women he’d known—haughty, aloof, indifferent at times. And then there was a bit of Polynesian in her, as well, in her dress, in the careless addition of a flower behind her ear, in the sexy little tattoo above her ankle.

      She glanced over at him and caught him staring. Trey quickly turned his gaze back to the report.

      “What are you reading?” she asked.

      He held it up, showing her the cover. “Just researching an idea I had. It’s nothing.”

      “Windmills?”

      “They’re ecologically friendly,” he said.

      He’d been turning the idea over in his head ever since his father had put him on the payroll. Why not build an eco-friendly resort in the South Pacific? He’d have to deal with the problems of providing power and water to a small island anyway and there were now methods to do it without impacting the environment.

      “This is not really a good season to be seeing our islands,” Sophie said.

      “I’ve noticed it rains a lot.”

      “It’s the rainy season,” she said with a smile. “Sometimes, it rains for days.” She looked out the window of the plane. “Today is a good day. I can’t promise you that tomorrow you’ll even be able to see anything below us.”

      Trey grabbed his messenger bag from between his feet and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Tell me everything you know about Suaneva,” he demanded, anxious to keep her engaged in conversation.

      He listened, silently taking notes as she explained the physical topography of a Polynesian atoll in comparison with an island. But he was less interested in the facts than he was in the sound of her voice.

      “Suaneva is an atoll. An atoll begins with a volcano sticking out of the water,” she explained. She let go of the controls and turned to him to gesture with her hands. But when she saw the startled look on his face, she sent him an apologetic smile. “I set the autopilot.”

      Trey exhaled the breath he’d sucked in. “Oh. Well, fine then.”

      “Coral builds up around the base beneath the water’s surface,” she continued, “and over the years, the volcano top falls away until all that is left is the coral ring and a huge lagoon in the center. Vegetation grows on the ring and beaches form and you have an atoll. They look like little rings in the sea.” She pointed out his window. “There. You see? This atoll is part of the Archipel des Tuamotu. The Tuamotu Archipelago. We are about 150 miles from Pape‘ete. Tahiti is part of les Îles du Vent. The Windward Islands. Mostly mountaintops that haven’t erupted or disintegrated. Although there are many atolls, too. Vous comprenez?”

      He stared at her hands, wondering what it might be like if she actually reached out and touched him. Trey wanted to capture her fingers and pull them to his lips, to kiss each neatly manicured tip until he got a reaction from her. How could such a simple gesture intrigue him so? “Yes,” he murmured.

      “In an atoll, there are often separate islands in the ring and these are called motu. A motu can be very large or quite small, but they are…lower. Flatter than an island like Bora Bora.”

      What he wanted right now didn’t have anything to do with islands or resorts or trust funds. Listening to her voice, watching her beautiful mouth, was pushing his thoughts in a very different direction. If he had his way, he’d demand she land СКАЧАТЬ