was she so uneasy? It wasn’t like this was a first date. Any kind of date, for that matter.
When her eyes landed on the man sitting alone at the secluded table, she froze. No freaking way. She didn’t believe in coincidences. Fate, yes. But not coincidences. And right now, her belief in fate was up for examination.
This had to be a mistake. There was no way on God’s green earth the jerk from the hospital and the Alonso Wright she was there to meet were one and the same.
Impossible.
After a quick scan of the area to see if maybe Hector had confused the two men, she had her answer. Her horoscope had said today she’d face new challenges. She certainly hadn’t prepared for this degree of complication.
This didn’t change anything. If anything, it made what she needed to do easier. The man had already rubbed her the wrong way once; she wouldn’t give him another opportunity.
Mr. Wright glanced up from his device and did what she labeled a triple take. Yep, he was baffled, too. God, he made mystified look so good.
Their eyes locked from across the room. To say she experienced a jolt of attraction would be putting it mildly. The man was gorgeous. Really gorgeous. Runway-model gorgeous. Too bad he was such an asshole.
She wanted to snatch her eyes away, but his dark gaze held her like a powerful magnet. When he stood, her breath caught in her throat. The suit clung to his body like fine art. Yes, she was captivated. And underdressed for the occasion, apparently. Her eyes weren’t the only set appreciating the human form. Her cheeks warmed under his scrutiny.
“Are you okay?”
Vivian shifted toward Hector, thankful he’d broken the spell. “Sí.” It was all she could do to force her feet to take her forward and not back. Luckily, they cooperated, placing her toe-to-toe with him, Tempered Chocolate, jerk from the hospital, Alonso Wright.
With a narrow-eyed gaze, he said, “Have...we met before?”
Apparently, his curiosity trumped a customary greeting. Had they met before? Really? So much for making a lasting first impression. In her defense, at the hospital she’d worn scrubs, her hair in a ponytail and no makeup.
“Actually, yes, we have. You rudely alluded to me being the worst nurse you’d ever encountered.”
“The hospital,” he said more to himself than to Vivian. A look of regret spread across his face. “Mrs. Wright—” He lowered his head and chuckled.
Had he just given her his last name? Vivian Wright. Not bad. Urgently, she reminded herself why she was there. Business, not lust.
His head slowly rose. “I’m sorry about that. It’s been a long day. Mrs. Moore is what I actually meant to say.”
“No worries. And it’s Ms. Wright—” Vivian’s eyes widened. Shit. “Moore. It’s Ms. Moore.” Why was she cracking under pressure? She was an ER nurse. Pressure was her middle name. When Alonso flashed one of the sexiest smiles she’d ever seen, she temporarily changed her name to woman-who-couldn’t-control-her-libido.
Alonso shrugged. “See, accidents happen.”
“Amor a primera vista,” Hector said, before leaving them alone.
Love at first sight? Not hardly.
“We started off on the wrong foot. I’d really like the opportunity to redeem myself and apologize for my behavior at the hospital.” He extended his arm toward her. “Alonso Wright.”
When Vivian’s palm rested against his, a searing heat rushed up her arm. Ignoring the tingle, she forced out, “Vivian Moore.”
Alonso eyed her as if attempting to memorize her features. A beat later, he jerked as if he’d realized he’d been staring at her, then released her hand.
“Ah...sit, please.”
Her brain almost processed the command. Luckily, good sense kicked in. “I won’t be staying. I wanted to return this.” She rummaged through her oversize purse, fished out the envelope and passed it to him. “My answer last month was no. My answer last week was no. My answer today is still no. Enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Wright.” She turned and started away.
“Three hundred thousand.”
Vivian stopped. Three hundred thousand was double what he’d originally offered. She faced him, then slowly moved back to the table. “I’m sure there are plenty of other properties in North Carolina that would suit you. Why do you want mine so badly?” Word on the street was he’d already acquired every house in her old neighborhood except hers.
A glint of vulnerability sparked in his eyes, and she couldn’t help but wonder why. Especially since everything about this man screamed resilient—from his confident dark eyes and square jaw, to his enticing lips and strong chin.
“I’m offering more than you would ever get for the property, Ms. Moore.”
Vivian noted how he’d skirted around her question. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wright. It’s not for sale. And neither am I.”
He frowned. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Trying to buy you.”
She fanned her hand around the colorful restaurant. “Isn’t that what this lunch is all about? Wine and dine me to get what you want.”
Alonso released a sexy chuckle that caressed her body like gentle fingers.
“Wine and dine you, huh?” He massaged his chin with two fingers and smiled. “Something tells me you’re worth far more than a chimichanga.”
“And that something would be absolutely correct. Good day, Mr. Wright.”
* * *
There was no way Alonso was letting Ms. Moore slip away. Not just because he needed to convince her to sell, but because something about the woman drew him in and dangled him like prey over the mouth of a hungry, lust-filled beast.
He never mixed business with pleasure, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the idea of spending a few pleasure-filled nights with her. Despite the potent desire to take her right there on the table, he refused to allow his craving to cloud his judgment. A lot rode on this deal.
With the money he’d already invested into the project—downtown shops, restaurants, a hotel and the most important landmark, a swanky event center to honor his grandfather—he stood to lose a lot of money. He didn’t like to lose at anything.
Think, Wright. Get her to stay.
“You owe me a soda.” When he folded his arms across his chest, her eyes drifted to his biceps, then shot up to meet his. So, he wasn’t the only one gripped by temptation.
“Excuse me?”
“You owe me a soda. At the hospital, you confiscated my soda and never returned it. I worked hard for that soda. You owe me a replacement.” Of course, he wasn’t serious, but the quizzical way she eyed him suggested she thought he was. He’d pay triple what he was already offering just to know what was racing through her head.
“Okay,
