Give And Take: Taken Part 10

My eyes dart to yours. I feel mine blazing as if they could shoot lasers. "You'll know when I'm reacting, Merrick. Trust me." My finger slips off of the potholder and scorches onto a gla.s.s ca.s.serole dish. "Ow!"

You dart forward and grab my hand. "Under cold water. Now."

I yank my hand away. "Don't tell me what to do!"

Your fingers clamp over my wrist. Now your eyes could shoot lasers. "Stop." You wrap your other arm around my waist and lead me to the sink. "You're so d.a.m.n stubborn."

"You're--" I clench my teeth. "A lot of things."

A bark of laughter shoots out of you. "A lot of bad things?"

"Mostly."

You hold my hand under ice cold water and rest your chin on my shoulder. "Not all bad things I hope."

"Right now, I'm struggling to think of something good."

"It was only s.e.x. She means nothing to me. I haven't been with her since the day I interviewed you on the phone. I haven't wanted anyone else since then."

I huff. "I don't believe that."

You spin me around and lower your head so we're eye-to-eye, our noses almost touching. "Believe it."

I breathe you in. My eyelids fall to half-mast, heavy with desire. "Prove it," I whisper.

The tip of your nose caresses mine. "How?"

"Find a way."

The noisy conversation of a group of men and boots clomping toward the kitchen makes us straighten and step apart. I catch my breath, watching your eyes go from blazing hot with arousal to a more natural warm. "Your men have arrived, Miss DeSalvo."

"My men," I mutter, my mind rattled. "Right."

You smile and your eyes crinkle at the corners. "Need a minute to collect yourself? I can get this started."

"I hate you."

"No you don't." Your lips brush mine.

"I want to."

"I know." Your stroke my cheek with the back of your hand. "I'm glad you don't though."

A feminine, "Ehem," breaks our contact. "Are we interrupting?" Joan wears a toxic, irritated expression. "We were told you wanted to meet with us, Rachael." She says my name like it's poison rolling off her red lips.

"Yes." Taking her in, a tremor runs though me. She's been with you.

Your hand presses against the small of my back. "Have a seat everyone," you say. "There are some chairs-feel free to sit on the counters. I'm afraid we don't have enough seating for everyone."

"This will need to be fast." Joan flips through her planner. "We don't have time to indulge in unscheduled breakfast meetings."

"We have time to indulge in whatever Miss DeSalvo wishes us to indulge in." Your voice is full of threat. She's treading the line. She sniffs and tilts her chin in the air, but doesn't respond.

I open the cupboard and haul out an armful of plates. "Go ahead and get some food. I want to thank you all for coming on such short notice." Joan's eyes pop to the size of silver dollars like treating the work crew like human beings is simply not heard of. "There's a lot to do around here. When it's finished, I hope you will all come back with your loved ones and enjoy it." I glance at you out of the corner of my eye. "On the company, of course, as a way of saying thank you."

The men start commenting to each other about how awesome a free vacation will be and thanking me as they fill their plates.

Beside me, you stiffen and raise a hand. "Given we meet our deadline for renovations. It won't be easy."

"I'm sure we'll make it," I say, cutting you off. You want me in charge; you've got me in charge. "I'm sure Joan has shown you the plans for the pool area and cabana. Once that's complete, you'll start on the hotel."

"They've seen the blueprints, Rachael," Joan says, speaking to me like I'm a child. "They know what to do."

"Good. What will you be doing then?" I tilt my head and raise my eyebrows. "Are you their supervisor, or is there one on the crew? A foreman maybe?"

You cough beside me then turn to the sink and grab a gla.s.s for water. I think you might be choking on my words. The clink of silverware and dull mumble of the men stops.

"Overseeing the process," she says, her words as cold and smooth as steel.

"When you're not overseeing the process?" I say, narrowing my eyes. She will know where she stands with me. "You can help me cook, clean and take the helicopter to the nearest grocery store. I'm sure the men will need a lot of food to keep their energy up."

Her eyes are calling me a b.i.t.c.h, but her mouth says, "Fine."

You down a gla.s.s of water, but stay turned around, leaned against the sink. Your shoulders shake like you're laughing. She watches you, and her face flames.

Just like that, I feel terrible for her. Did she know it was only s.e.x? Even if she did, I can tell she wanted more. "Thank you for organizing everything, Joan. I appreciate it."

"It's my job," she says curtly.

"Not cooking and cleaning, so thank you."

You've turned around, and you're looking at me like I've grown a second head in the last thirty seconds. If your second head hadn't led her on, maybe I could be a b.i.t.c.h to her without feeling guilty. I glare at you for a moment before grabbing a plate. "There's plenty of food, so help yourselves to more. I'm looking forward to getting to know all of you."

Beside me again at the island, you pick up a fork and tap it in your palm. "Nicely handled."

"Nothing was handled. It was just a gesture on my part. I want them to like me."

Your forehead creases. "They don't have to like you. They have to do what you say, or they don't get paid."

"They'll do more for me if they like me." I grab your fork to stop your fiddling with it. "You've heard the expression: You catch more bees with honey than vinegar, haven't you?"

"I'm not a beekeeper. I'm a CEO." You s.n.a.t.c.h your fork back.

"You're-a lot of things."

Your lips twist and you grab a piece of bacon and point it at me. "Honey. I'll keep that in mind."

I lean forward and bite the end of your bacon. "You do that."

You shake your head slightly and lean in to my ear. "These jeans aren't discrete enough for you to do this to me."

"Mmm..." I chew and take another bite from the bacon between your fingers.

"You're making a spectacle of us."

A man approaches us. His blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and the black lines of a tattoo sneak from under the arm of his t-shirt down his bicep. He's built-and hot. I blink a few times. You take my hand and squeeze, reminding me who brought me here. Jealous?

"Miss DeSalvo, I'm Beck Tanner, crew foreman. What you're planning to do here is amazing. We're all glad to be a part of it." His eyes are bright, and it's like there's a live current running through them. He has so much energy streaming through his veins.

You squeeze my hand again. Feeling threatened? "Thank you," I say. "It's a vigorous schedule. Do you foresee any issues?"

"We've discussed the schedule at length," Joan says, coming forward with a click-clack of her heels. "It will be tight. There might be some issues--"

"With the motivation of a free vacation," Beck says, cutting her off with a brilliant smile, "there won't be issues. My guys will work around the clock if they have to. It's a very generous gift. Thank you."

"Very generous," Merrick repeats, stuffing the rest of his bacon into his mouth.

"You're welcome. Everyone needs incentives." I lift a baking sheet to Beck. "Toast?"

He takes a piece and tears a bite off, winking at me. "Delicious breakfast, too. I might move into the hotel after the job's done."

You inhale a deep breath. "I need to check on something. Do you need me here any longer?"

I shake my head. "No. I've got it covered."

"More than covered," you mumble behind me as you leave.

Joan swivels and follows you out, making my stomach clench. She's like your shadow, and what's the deal with the Mr. Moody routine all of a sudden? Like it's my fault Beck's a flirt.

"Everything okay?" he asks, watching you and Joan stalk off.

"Just fine." I give him my most convincing smile, but don't think he's convinced.

"If you say so. Let me know if you need anything. I'll find you later tonight to give you the daily report."

"Daily report?"

"Just a quick update on our progress. I know Dragon Lady tracks the progress of the projects, but I'd much rather deal with you." He winks again and turns back to his men.

Dragon Lady. Ha! I want to laugh, but it wouldn't be professional. I probably should've stuck up for her and asked him not to call her that again. Probably-but didn't-oh well.

Not finding you anywhere in the hotel, I wander outside. My hands are pruney from washing a million dishes, and my finger has a blister on it where it's burned.

I follow the path to the pool. The tall gra.s.s and vines along the trail have been cut back with a weed whacker. I still hear it humming in the distance. I guess it would be easier to carry equipment and supplies through here without being tripped up by Mother Nature.

The crew comes into view, tearing down the roof of the covered cloister where you and I swung in the hammock. I wonder what you did with the rope hammock. I hope you saved it.

A radio blares, hammers pound, saws buzz. Shirtless men in cut-off shorts toss sc.r.a.ps of wood into a pile and take measurements. Joan sits cross-legged in a lawn chair in the shade talking on her cell phone, but you're nowhere in sight.

"Hey! Miss DeSalvo!" Beck calls from up on a ladder. He nods his head farther down the trail. "I believe you'll find what you're looking for by the water." He shoots me his trademark wink.

"Thanks!" I square my shoulders and walk past Joan, who doesn't bother looking up at me.

It's sweltering under the direct sun beating down on my head and shoulders. Bees drift lazily over wildflowers, and I think about my comment to you-how you'll try to remember to be more honey-like.

You're very honey-like around me. I understand your reluctance to let your charming side show in business relationships, but you honestly have no idea how to deal with people in your personal life. Honey would help all around.

Between two trees by the water, you lie in the hammock reading papers and gently swinging. I stop walking and study you-so calm and relaxed-looking nothing like a billionaire business G.o.d with your hair blowing back and your chest bare. I could've never picked you out in a crowd-didn't in fact.

You glace up and meet my eyes. "Are you stalking me?"

"I can only aspire to one day be as good of a stalker as you."

You smirk. "I would say you're too nice, but after putting Joan in her place, I think you just might have it in you after all."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." She's your employee, not mine.

You shrug. "She has thick skin. I'm sure she's over it."

"Thick skin from working with you?" I walk toward you, running my palm of the tops of tall gra.s.s and flowers.

"It's a requirement. I don't like to worry about offending people."

I reach you and weave my fingers through the rope hammock. "What about the honey?"

You roll your eyes, and I shove the hammock with all my strength, sending you swinging. "Okay!" You laugh. "I said I'd try for more honey, less vinegar. That's what I'll do."

When the hammock swings back toward me, you grab me around the waist and pull me on top of you. "Hey!" We're both laughing and swinging, and I snuggle in beside you, into the crook of your arm with my head on your chest. "You weren't mad about Beck, were you?"

"Why would I be mad? I have no right to be mad-no claim over you."

The heat from your chest warms my cheek. "You kept squeezing my hand."

"I wanted to remind you I was there."

"You were right beside me."

"He was flirting. You were flirting back."

I push up to look at you. "I was not flirting back. He's our foreman. It would be unprofessional."

Your eyes graze my face-over my cheeks, across my lips, down my neck and back to my eyes. "What if he wasn't the foreman, or anyone working for you?"

"What are you asking me?"

Your lips tighten into a firm line. "Nothing."

"It's something. I can tell." I brush a film of sawdust off your chest. Your muscles contract under my fingers.