Pleasure. “We want our guests to have the best of everything,” Dane insisted.
He realized now that she was the best he’d ever had. Her taste had made his mind reel, her skin had been as soft as rose petals, and the lyrical sounds of her ecstasy still played in his mind every night.
He found himself close to her now—close enough to sense the heat of her body, the sweetness of her shampoo, the citrus of the lotion she always wore. “We need to offer leisure time for the parents, like a couple’s massage followed by a romantic candlelit dinner in their suite. So they can learn how to be lovers again.” He painted the romantic picture he dreamed of with her.
She smelled so damn good. He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t need this. It could be so bad for them.
But it could be so damned good.
He put his finger beneath her chin and tipped it up, forcing her to look at him. “What do you think?” His voice was so low it couldn’t even be called a whisper.
Her eyes were wide, her breath coming fast, and her scent carried the sexual musk of that night. Even as his mind shouted a warning—bad idea alert!—his body and his heart didn’t care.
She was so close. Her lips were so pretty and plump, begging for his kiss.
With just the tip of his finger beneath her chin, he touched his lips to hers. The sweetest, lightest touch.
She made a sound, almost a moan.
He trailed the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips. Tasted her. Tempted her. Just the way he had that night. With the tiniest gasp of air, her lips parted for him.
Nothing had ever been so good as when his mouth closed over hers. When her tongue touched his, and the kiss became a slow, sweet devouring of each other. Delicious little moans rose up her throat, sounds of pleasure that were as sweet as her taste. He wanted to haul her against him, feel her body plastered to his. And yet, he wanted this, just her lips, her mouth, her tongue, her taste still filled with the luscious fruit they’d eaten that morning.
* * *
She wanted to curl her arms around his neck and climb his body until she could wrap her legs around his hips, to hold him there, tight against her, the feel of him hard against her core. He tasted like heaven. He tasted like the sweetest treat she’d ever known. He tasted of desire and sexy, steamy nights.
He tasted of twelve years of craving.
And he tasted of rules that shouldn’t be broken, of everything she wanted and everything she couldn’t have.
As if he’d stolen every last breath from her, she had to step back just to drag in a lungful of air before she drowned in him.
They were both breathing hard.
She’d been so deep in those memories of that day. When there’d been no need to resist. When there’d been no need for rules. When there’d been nothing but the feel of him, the taste of him, the scent of him.
But that day had been left behind long ago.
* * *
He wanted her. He also knew how easily he could push her away forever. Needing something or someone this much always brought disappointment.
But he had to fix it. Right now. Before she left him because he’d overstepped. “I’m so sorry. That was totally inappropriate.”
She rolled her lips together, swallowed, her eyes too wide, too stark. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry too. It breaks all the rules.”
Who had thought up their idiotic rules? Was it him? Was it her? But the rules were the reason the two of them had been able to work together for so long in the most symbiotic relationship he’d ever known.
She spoke again, saying things he didn’t want to hear but needed to anyway. “Our rules matter. We can’t change them now, especially not when we’re in the midst of the most important project of our careers.”
He wanted to argue. Something in him said the rules just didn’t ring true anymore. She’d needed the job to give her the wherewithal to care for Lochlan.
But Lochlan was no longer here.
Didn’t that mean the reason for the rules no longer existed?
“I mean, we can’t throw it all out now.” Was that desperation in her voice? “I mean, it would be throwing away everything we’ve worked so hard for.”
Would it be so bad to let themselves go?
“I mean, the rules enabled me to help my uncle. And they made everything about our relationship work. I mean…” She finally stopped.
I mean. She kept saying that, as if she was trying to convince herself as much as him. And he saw then, without a doubt, that if he pushed, she absolutely would run. She needed her rules. As sweet as that kiss had been, the rules were truly what kept them together. And if he blew them up, he might blow up his life and this crucial relationship.
You always want too much from people, Dane.
Even as his throat wanted to close around the words, he had to force them out. “You’re right. You’re right about everything.”
In a voice that threatened to tear them apart, she said, “We’ve been here for three days, and we’ve got a ton of material. Why don’t we head home, where I can collate all of it and put together our presentation for the Mavericks?”
Metaphorically, she was running, even if he hadn’t destroyed the rules.
* * *
How many times did she need to go over all the reasons why an affair with Dane was a really bad idea? Over and over, obviously.
Even that didn’t work when she thought about his lips on hers, his taste filling her mouth, filling her entire being. His scent was like a drug to her senses. No man had ever been as potent for her. Even as she packed her bag, alone in her room, the scent of him still mesmerized her, and his kiss still steamed her up.
So she had to go through all her reasons. Again.
It would end badly.
They would lose their friendship.
She would lose her job.
Nothing would ever be the same between them once it was over.
Her life would change irrevocably, and she couldn’t stand another change. Not now. Not right after losing Uncle Lochlan.
But still, she couldn’t help craving one more kiss, one more night, one more moment of pleasure.
A pair of silk panties in her hands, she had the most awful thought. Dane hadn’t even fought her when she’d said they shouldn’t forget the rules. And he’d been the first to apologize. So why did he kiss me in the first place?
On the heels of that, another horrible thought rammed its way in. Was she the one who’d kissed him first? Was that why he’d immediately apologized? Oh God, she couldn’t remember how it happened.
She could only remember wanting him, being in his arms, kissing him.
It was only a kiss, yet it tore her apart. Without Dane, without this job, she had nothing. She didn’t even have her uncle anymore.
No, the best thing for her was to forget about that kiss, forget about that long-ago night, forget about him with the kids at the barbecue, with a baby in his arms. She might want all that, and she might want it with Dane, but it was never going to happen. At least it wouldn’t happen the way she wanted it.
And her beautiful, comfortable, secure life could turn into a hot mess.
* * *
While they waited in Martinique for his pilot to ready the jet, Dane set up the Maverick meeting in San Francisco for the next morning. “Are you sure we’re ready?” he’d asked Cammie as she busied herself on her laptop.
“I’m sure we will be,” she’d said without looking up.
He had nothing else to do. Because Cammie wasn’t speaking to him. Not in an angry, I never want to speak to you again way. Cammie wasn’t like that. This was more of an I can’t believe I kissed you and I don’t know what to do about it way.
He was just as shell-shocked.
That kiss reminded him of every single moment they’d spent in his condo on the golf course that night. Not that he’d ever forgotten a single moment. But now the memories were fresh with the taste of her, the scent of her, his need for her.
He just wasn’t sure what to do that wouldn’t ruin the good thing they already had.
But he had the hours of the flight to think about it.
And to think about her.
* * *
They flew home overnight, working some of the time, sleeping some of the time. After preparing a special treat for the morning’s Maverick meeting—the plane had a sufficient galley kitchen—Fernsby watched Dane’s and Camille’s every waking moment with a hawk’s eyes.
Of course they didn’t notice his scrutiny; they were too busy ignoring each other. What’s up with that? he thought, just like an American.
But he wasn’t American. He was British. The British were always more reserved, especially when they were being devious. And he was totally (another Americanism) devious.
Something had happened on that island. SOMETHING BIG. He thought the words in huge capital letters.
He could have clapped with glee, but of course he didn’t. Things were finally moving in the right direction. FINALLY. Again in huge capital letters.
He’d brought food to the island, much of it already prepared, so they’d have all the meals they needed and could just forget he was there.
But something hadn’t worked the way he’d planned.
“Just get on with it, you two,” he muttered under his breath. He wanted to rail at them. But he’d just have to work harder. A good butler’s work was never done.
Then a brilliant plan came to him, which was not unusual. Quite often, he was filled with brilliant plans. He was a mastermind, if he did say so himself.
He almost wanted to buff his fingernails on his lapel. Because this was one of his most brilliant ideas yet. And it would work.
* * *
It was almost the end of April, and the Mavericks were eager to hear Dane and Cammie’s plans for the resort. They all wanted to get a move on. So the following morning, Will and his best friends and brothers sat around the big conference table for the meeting. All of them except Evan. Will knew Evan would never last three months, never mind six, but at least he was taking the time now to bond with his children.
Matt was telling the story, with wide gestures and a resounding voice, of how he’d taken Ari and Noah to see the babies. “I swear, Mom and Dad made an edict that Evan and Paige needed a date night.” He dropped his voice as if they were in a conspiracy. “Secretly, I think Paige was horrified at leaving the babies alone for one evening. After all, they’re only a month old.” He laughed. “But you know Mom. She told them they needed to reconnect over more than being peed on and changing dirty diapers.”
Of course that’s how Mom and Dad would be, the ultimate grandma and grandpa. They were in seventh heaven over the twins, as well as the three new babies on the way.
Will had a sudden vision of Harper, hands on her belly that was huge with his child. He wanted it. Badly. He just wasn’t sure the time was right for her. But when it was, he’d be overjoyed.
“And I swear,” Matt went on, unusually long-winded, “Paige was all, ‘But-but-but…’” He smiled. “And Mom simply held up her hands, saying, ‘It’s nonnegotiable, and I don’t want to hear any excuses.’ You should’ve seen Mom. And you can’t argue with her, because she’s always right!” Every Maverick at the table chuckled. They knew their mother well.
So true. Mom had known Harper was right for him, and she hadn’t allowed him to make a mistake that would scare away the love of his life. Will would be forever grateful for that.
The conference room door burst open. Dane should have been there, but instead, Will—and all his brothers—were delightfully surprised to see Fernsby rolling in his tea trolley with another mind-boggling delicacy. The man must spend every waking moment in the kitchen.
Cammie Chandler and Dane followed, but not a single Maverick cared about them.
“Do you travel with that trolley, Fernsby?” Will asked.
The man looked down his nose. “Of course, sir. A butler is always prepared. I keep it in the trunk of the car, which we left at the airport.”
Then he began pouring coffee and dishing out another of his creations.
Around a mouthful of delicious cake covered in warm custard called a jam roly-poly, Sebastian said, “Okay, so is there a butler registry, like Butler-dot-com or something, where we can find someone just like you?”
Dane laughed. “There’s no one like Fernsby.”
Fernsby, with as straight a face as ever could be, said, “There’s no one on this planet who can handle bosses who are too big for their britches the way I can.”
Each and every Maverick laughed himself sick. Fernsby was so right—they were all too big for their britches, as their mom often told them.
Mom and Fernsby would get along great.
* * *
Cammie ran through the slide deck demonstrating their ideas, from a pickleball court to basketball hoops to activity rooms, along with art classes for painting to metalwork, and even a dance studio. Her tummy had done flipflops on the drive from the airport when Dane had said he wanted her to take the lead, claiming most of the ideas were hers.
And now she found she couldn’t look at him. As if one look would make her stumble.
Or remind her of that island kiss, and then she’d become completely flustered.
She concentrated on the conference room full of Mavericks, all seated at the big table, their arms folded. The blinds behind them were pulled to cut the glare on the large display screen from the sun shining through the windows overlooking San Francisco Bay. She was glad they’d dressed informally, making her feel better about the fact that she and Dane still wore casual clothes. When they’d been heading to the Caribbean, she hadn’t thought to take business attire to change into.
As she clicked through the last slide, Sebastian breathed in deeply, letting it out in a long sigh. “Don’t you think we’re asking a lot of these kids—dancing, painting, metalworking?” He might have been wondering how much time Charlie would have to devote to teaching special kids how to create art out of scrap.
But Cammie had an answer. “Our guests will rise to the level of their capabilities. We talked to Harper.” She glanced at Will. “She feels that these kids need to be given all the opportunities their contemporaries have available to them.”
Daniel looked at the practical side. “So how much land do you think you’ll need for this, if we’re building from the ground up?”
Cammie nodded, grateful for the question. She wanted these men to know she’d thought of everything. “We don’t necessarily need to build from the ground up. We want to be in Tahoe—that was a great suggestion, thank you.” She tipped her head to Daniel, giving credit where credit was due. “But as the Maverick Group is committed to its environmental policies, there are a few long-vacant old resorts or casinos with lakefront property that might work, with existing roads, power, and water.” She clicked to a slide with a chart showing square footage for every activity area they’d talked about adding to the resort. “If we can do it all on the same level, the footprint could be a lot. But there’s no reason we can’t have a multilevel facility and still have room for outdoor activities. Our main objective is to be on the waterfront with the forest at the back, making hiking trails available to our guests.”
“What about skiing in the winter?” Matt wanted to know.
“Rather than having our own slopes, we could work out deals with ski resorts for day trips.”
Matt nodded his approval.
“So how much money do we need to start?” Gideon asked.
Cammie didn’t hesitate. She felt good about the material, confident in her presentation. “The lowball figure would be two hundred million to start, if we do this in stages. But to do it right, we need at least five hundred million.”
Not a single Maverick choked or guffawed or batted an eyelash, not even Cal, who was the Mavericks’ business manager. With the billionaires, it could be all pie-in-the-sky, but Cal was down to earth. “We’ll sure as hell have our work cut out for us.” He paused, looking at the square footage slide a long moment. “But it’s doable.”
Cammie smiled and finally looked at Dane. She saw pride gleaming in his eyes. Little did he know it had taken every ounce of confidence she possessed to run the meeting. But she’d really done it.
“We’ve already started opening doors,” she told them. “We left a message with Clyde Westerbourne to see how he can help.”
Cal whistled. “Westerbourne. Great man. He helped us with Gideon’s foundation.”
“And I’m sure he’ll want to help with this too.” Then she added smoothly, “We’d welcome any additional ideas or comments you have. This is a group project. We need your input.”
Will sat back in his chair, holding a pen between his fingertips. “I believe I speak for all of us. You’ve done the work.” He flashed his gaze around the room, and the Mavericks let him be their mouthpiece. “And we like all of it. If we have something to add, we’ll let you know, but you’ve got an amazing start here. Obviously, there’ll be massive fundraising for this. But you two have such a mind meld, we don’t want to get in your way.”
“Cal and I will look at how the foundation can help,” Gideon said. “But you know you can call on us if you need anything.”
She wanted to clap. She wanted to cry. They’d done it. The Mavericks were in. And finally, she could look at Dane again.
She felt that mind meld, as if they didn’t need words.
And it told her he was extremely proud of her.