Reserved for the Tycoon Page 4

“Julia says hello, by the way,” Trent said good-naturedly. “She told me not to torment you, so I’m letting you off the hook. Just try to do better. You’re making this too easy for me.”

  “Funny, Trent.” Brock liked a good challenge, and winning ownership of his late father’s classic Thunderbird was part of the deal. He’d bet Trent his newly renovated hotel would make more money in the first year of operation than Trent’s western-themed Tempest West. Now, the competition was in full swing. And his pride and reputation were on the line. “Give Julia a kiss for me.”

  “That, I’ll be darn happy to do.”

  After he hung up the phone, Brock tried concentrating on work, but he couldn’t get his mind off Trent’s annoying phone call. Brock had worked extremely hard on renovating the hotel, trying to take a failing enterprise and make it a success. He’d hired a new staff and had faith in their abilities. He knew his management team was top-notch. He couldn’t afford any more mistakes to be made.

  Vanessa entered his mind and he shook his head.

  She was competent, hard-working and gorgeous.

  She’d been on his mind a lot lately, breaking into his thoughts at the oddest moments. He’d seen her around the offices but they hadn’t spoken in two days, since that night when he’d nearly undressed her and taken her to bed. Intoxicating thoughts of what would have happened had they not been interrupted came to mind frequently. He couldn’t remember a time he’d enjoyed being with a woman more.

  He leaned forward at his desk and buzzed his secretary. “Rosalind, I need a meeting with Vanessa Dupree. Have her come up at noon.”

  “Okay, Mr. Tyler.”

  Brock glanced at his watch. Then concentrated on the contracts on his desk, filling the time with work until he’d confront Vanessa.

  Hoping to finish what they’d started the other night.

  “You wanted to see me?” Vanessa said, entering Brock’s office, her mind reeling. She hadn’t spoken with him since the night of the wedding fiasco. The night she’d managed to ward off his advances. Considering that entire day had been a lose-lose situation for him, she’d steered clear of him in every way possible. But she couldn’t ignore a meeting at the boss’s request.

  He stood by the window, with his back to her, gazing out at the deep aqua-colored waters of the Pacific, the office view the best in the hotel. His hands thrust in the pockets of his casual tan trousers, he turned around slowly and they made eye contact.

  Jarred by the jolting impact of coming face-to-face with him again, Vanessa stood rooted to the spot. She fought her crazy, unwarranted attraction to him, and ignored the dark intensity of his eyes and the ease of his stance.

  “Close the door, Vanessa.”

  She turned and resisted the urge to flee, shutting the door as asked.

  “Did you want to talk about the fashion show gala?” She stepped farther into his office.

  “Do you have it under control?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I’m confident it’ll go off as planned.” As she’d planned, she didn’t add. She had more work to do to ensure failure for that event as well.

  “Then, no. I have every confidence that you’ll make the hotel look good.”

  “Thank you.”

  He came forward and sat on the edge of his desk, his long legs crossed at the ankle and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  They spoke civilly as if their last encounter hadn’t been hot and heavy and sexually charged. As if Brock hadn’t worked magic on her mouth and hadn’t stripped down her clothes and her defenses, nearly making her succumb to his desire.

  Thank heaven Lucy had good timing. That phone call had saved her. Vanessa hadn’t counted on Brock’s attraction to her or the unnerving, completely unwelcome attraction she had for him.

  She steeled her resolve. Brock was, in fact, the enemy and she wasn’t nearly through with him yet. This was one time the tycoon wouldn’t get what he wanted. But with his gaze steady on hers, she couldn’t think straight much less breathe.

  “Did you need me for something else then?” she asked, fully aware of his close proximity, the scent of sandalwood an unsettling reminder of the other night.

  His gaze flicked over her, taking in her aqua-blue knit tank top and white pants and she wondered if her clothes were too casual now. The turquoise gemstone necklace draped on her chest seemed to catch his attention, but after a “duh” moment, she realized it wasn’t the stone that he admired.

  “Yes, I need you. Can you clear your calendar this Saturday night?”

  She gulped and blurted, “Why? Are you asking me out on a date?”

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “No.”

  Confused and embarrassed, she blinked, feeling heat burn its way up her throat. “Oh,” she said, shaking her head, befuddled. “What do you need then?”

  “I’ve been invited to the Hawaiian Hotel Association’s annual dinner. There’ll be good opportunity for networking and as my event planner, I think you should join me. Are you free that evening?”

  “No. Yes. I mean I’d planned on working on the Fashion Show Gala all day and into the night.”

  Brock assessed her with discerning eyes. “You’ll get it done in enough time. The dinner’s at seven and I’ll make sure to have you tucked into bed early.”

  Vanessa’s blood ran cold. She needed that time to work on unraveling Sunday’s fashion show. But she really couldn’t refuse Brock’s invitation. She was being squeezed tight between the proverbial rock and the hard place and needed to come up for air. Her mind worked quickly and finally she figured out a Plan B for her sabotage.

  Brock stared at her. “Vanessa?”

  She hadn’t missed the “I’ll make sure to have you tucked into bed early” comment either. Lurid images popped into her reckless mind.

  “It’s just that the other night, things got a little out of control at my place.”

  “No, they didn’t.” He lifted up from his perch on the desk to stand straight, arms folded, and surveyed her. “If you were being honest with yourself, you’d say they were right on track.”

  She snapped her head up and thought of Melody and all he’d put her through. She wouldn’t qualify his statement with an answer. “This is only a business dinner, right?”

  He nodded, making no apologies for the other night. “Absolutely. And it’s important.”

  “Okay, I’ll clear my calendar.”

  “Thank you. And, Vanessa, this is one time it’s not casual attire.”

  She granted him a reluctant smile. “I’ll make sure to leave my jogging suit at home.” Then she walked out the door.

  Four

  B rock exited his sterling silver Mercedes and walked up the steps to Vanessa’s condo, reflecting on his choice to drive tonight rather than use his limousine. He wanted to be completely alone with Vanessa before and after the dinner with no interruptions. He wanted her all to himself.

  She was resistant to his charms and posed a challenge that excited him. Not that other women hadn’t turned him down, but with due modesty, those women had been few and far between. Women flocked to Brock and he’d known it was his charm, decent good looks and his pocketbook that impressed them. It was different with Vanessa Dupree. None of that seemed to matter to her.

  In fact, more often than not, she seemed completely unimpressed with him. He found himself less irritated at that and more amused and mystified.

  Brock straightened his ink-black Armani jacket, tightened the knot of his tie and knocked on her door.

  She made him wait. He knocked again and she called out, “Just a sec.”

  It was worth the wait. Vanessa opened the door and the sight of her made his groin twitch. He lifted his brows and assessed her for a few moments. Her rich platinum hair was full, away from her lovely face and touched her shoulders in soft barrel-like curls. She wore a red strapless dress that hugged her torso and fell along the curves of her hips, draping down her legs with one side riding midthigh in a slit that would catch every male e
ye in the room.

  And Brock would be the man bringing her home.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  “It’s not too much?” she asked with modesty. “I wasn’t sure how ‘not casual’ you meant.”

  He glanced at her tempting cherry-red glossy lips and wished there was time to suck the gloss off and kiss her senseless. “You’re a perceptive woman, Vanessa. You got it just right. Actually, perfect.”

  “Hardly that, but thanks for the compliment. You look very nice,” she said, her gaze flowing over him for a moment. “Would you like to come in?”

  He winced. “With the way you look tonight, it’d be better if we left right now or I doubt we’d get out of your place until midnight.”

  She chuckled, thinking he was teasing, no doubt, until she gazed deep into his eyes and saw the truth. Then she nodded, a somber look crossing her features. “I’ll get my purse.”

  She looked just as enticing from the backside and when she grabbed her beaded red purse and turned toward the door, it was all Brock could do from sweeping her off her feet and carrying her into the bedroom.

  “Ready?” she asked when she reached him.

  “Yeah.” He was ready. For her. But he’d have to resign himself to a business dinner for now.

  They walked through the flowered gardens and passed the pool in silence, Brock leading her with a hand to the small of her back. His fingers itched to touch more of her and he was glad he’d made the decision to drive his car, rather than be chauffeured. He needed to do something with his hands.

  “Did Lucy ever find her wallet?” he asked, making idle conversation. Vanessa’s soft fragrant perfume was like an erotic elixir. He needed the distraction of a conversation.

  “Yes, she’d left it at the Torch. Lucky for her. I once lost my wallet and it was weeks before I got all my records and credit cards straightened out. I had to cancel everything and start from scratch. What a pain. It’s a good thing my sister…uh…never mind. I’m boring you.”

  Brock chuckled. “No, you’re not. I didn’t know you had a sister. Younger? Older?”

  “Um, younger.”

  “With pretty platinum hair just like yours?”

  “No, my sister looks nothing like me.” Brock couldn’t miss the way her body stiffened at the mention of her sister.

  “Are you close to her?” he asked, drawing her out. He found himself enthralled with all aspects of Vanessa’s life. Maybe because she offered so little about herself and that intrigued him.

  “Not really. No. She and I have nothing in common.” Vanessa clutched her tiny purse tight and she seemed very uncomfortable with the subject. “It’s sort of a sore subject right now. We, uh, we don’t really get along.”

  “Okay, fair enough.” Brock opened the door for her and watched her glide into her seat, the slit in her dress showing a fair amount of gorgeous leg. “No more questions about your sister.”

  He shut her door and inhaled deeply, tamping down his lust. He reminded himself once again that this was a business dinner and not a date, though the lower half of him was having trouble remembering that.

  He got into the car and started the engine, looking over at Vanessa struggling to put her seatbelt on. “Let me. It can be tricky.”

  He reached across her body, his arm brushing up against her soft bare shoulder, pulled the belt taut and clamped it into the lock.

  “Thank you,” she breathed out.

  He was close enough to hear the quiet intake of her breath. Satisfied that he affected her to some degree, he returned to his position and drove away with a smug smile tipping the corners of his mouth. “My pleasure, Vanessa.”

  The dinner couldn’t be over soon enough. Brock had plans for Vanessa that included pleasure for both of them.

  Clearly, Brock Tyler was the most handsome man at the dinner, if Vanessa were to make a judgment call. Female heads turned when he walked into a room and she noted more than a few envious stares from the women she passed as they made their way to the luxurious circular bar in the corner of the anteroom.

  Hundreds of elegantly dressed guests milled about, their laughter and chatter rising above the soft melodic music playing. Crystal chandeliers lit the room and island flowers were displayed in stunning exotic arrangements. The pleasing subtle scent of plumeria graced the air and for the first time all day, Vanessa relaxed.

  She sipped a sour apple martini as Brock introduced her to the owners, regional managers and corporate heads of major hotels on the islands. Brock included her in all his conversations, asking her opinion and making her feel on the same level with the moguls who ran the hotel industry. They spent the next forty-five minutes in the upscale bar, but Vanessa could tell Brock was getting impatient.

  They slipped away from a small group, Brock’s hand warm to her back as he led her to an outer hallway. “Enough networking for a while,” he said, sipping his gin and tonic while focusing his attention on her.

  He’d gotten her a second sour apple martini, which she carefully nursed. She couldn’t afford to lose her inhibitions or her nerve. The big fashion show gala would need her undivided attention tomorrow.

  “You don’t like schmoozing? You do it so well.” And that was the truth. Brock knew how to charm people and make them laugh with his wit and intelligence.

  “So I’ve been told,” he said with a chuckle. “But I thought you’d had enough. These dinners can be boring, but necessary.”

  “Me? Do I look bored?” She didn’t want to give off a bad impression and arouse suspicion.

  “No, you look…gorgeous.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “I know, you weren’t fishing for compliments.” He leaned in and placed a delicious kiss on her mouth. When he backed away, his beautiful dark eyes held undeniable promise. “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

  Her stomach went queasy. If Brock bottled his sex appeal, he wouldn’t have to run a major hotel chain. He’d make millions in another way entirely.

  “You do that so well, too,” she muttered.

  “Thank you. Coming from you, it’s a big compliment.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Why do you say that?”

  Brock ran his finger along her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw ever so gently, causing prickly goose bumps to rise up on her arms.

  “Because you’re resisting me.”

  “And women don’t ever resist you?” she asked, keeping her tone light and flirtatious. She couldn’t reveal what she really thought about him.

  Amused, he grinned and that smile stole her breath. “Now that’s a question I’m smart enough not to answer.”

  “You’re my boss,” she said quietly.

  “You keep saying that, Vanessa. We’re both adults and I’m interested in you…more than I’ve been in a woman in the past decade.”

  Her queasy stomach clenched. Her heart raced. If it was a line, he’d delivered it convincingly. Vanessa quelled the jarring jolt his admission had to her system. She told herself not to be immensely flattered. She told herself not to believe him. He’d left Melody hurt and alone to pursue another woman.

  Yet, there was something in his expression that begged to differ with her innermost thoughts.

  She remained silent so long that Brock glanced at his watch. “It’s time for dinner.”

  She smiled weakly and when he took her arm, she walked beside him into the main dining room.

  Two hours later, Vanessa found herself in Brock’s capable arms on the dance floor. The ballroom’s lights dimmed, they danced to a smooth soft ballad that set a mood for romance.

  She’d endured dinner and an awards presentation where honors were given out to hotels of excellence in service and guest relations. She’d seen Brock’s eyes alight with determination watching the presenters give high honors to his competitors. He wanted his hotel not only to succeed, but to be ranked highest on the islands.

  Brock Tyler always had to have the best.

  It was a noble
ambition for a man who loved his profession. She couldn’t fault him there, Brock was diligent, hard-working and fully in command. His employees respected him. They thought him fair and forthright. Being an insider now, she’d heard plenty around the hotel about Brock. Unfortunately, she’d had to listen to female employees spout off about how “hot” Brock was and how they’d love to be one of his overnight guests on his yacht. They’d seen that yacht take off plenty of nights and all had surmised without a doubt that he hadn’t been alone.

  Vanessa had always kept quiet when the conversation turned to Brock, but she’d taken it all in and was reminded that Brock wasn’t to be trusted no matter how charming he could be.

  “You’re quiet tonight,” he said, holding her at a respectable distance.

  “Just being a good listener.”

  Brock brought her slightly closer. “That’s a good quality in a woman,” he said quite seriously.

  She lifted her head up to meet his eyes and saw a mischievous grin surface on his face. She shook her head. “There’s a few feminist organizations who’d tar and feather you for saying that.”

  “Hmmm, I think I’ve met some of those women already. They don’t like me.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” she said, feeling justified.

  Brock brought her closer yet and whispered in her ear. “I only care about one woman liking me.”

  A shocking thrill coursed through her body. As much as she wanted to be immune to him, there was something so incredibly charismatic about him. “I…like you, Brock.”

  He nodded, satisfied. When the music ended, he guided her to the table and they took their seats. Coffee was served and Vanessa was glad that the evening was coming to an end.

  Someone tapped Brock on the shoulder and a sultry voice whispered behind him. “Have you been hiding from me all night?”

  Vanessa turned her head to find a stunning dark-haired woman with bright green lust-filled eyes, devouring Brock. He rose from his seat to greet her. “Hello, Larissa.”

  “Hello? Is that all you can say?”

  She lifted up and kissed Brock gently on the lips. “There, that’s better.”