they reached a corner of the terrace where a profusion of sweet-scented Maid of Orleans star-flowered jasmine grew, Nick turned to her. “I tried for weeks to get an appointment with you, Tess, and couldn’t get one.”
“Who did you talk to?”
“Your assistant, Ron Hughes. Actually, I spoke with him on almost a daily basis, but he would never put me through to you or even give me an appointment. He kept insisting you had no time to see me.”
She shrugged. “Well, that’s true. My schedule is always packed, especially lately, with the details for my new offshore venture.” Normally she wouldn’t tell someone who was practically a stranger the reason she was busy, but something told her Nick already knew the reason. Her curiosity grew stronger. “Still, I notice Ron couldn’t stop you from getting to me.”
“That would have been hard for anyone to do.”
She could only stare. If he’d looked amazing with the sun surrounding him, he looked astounding by moonlight. The moon’s silver light threaded its way through his sun-streaked hair and touched his bronzed skin, cooling down his coloring—in a way, gentling it. Perhaps someone less suspecting than she would, at first glance, think him tame.
She knew better.
The moon might be offering him camouflage, and at the moment he might be masterfully controlling his innate power, but his amber eyes still held the intensity that earlier that evening had been able to reach across the terrace to her. She had no doubt that, if he chose, he could sear layers from her skin with just a glance.
“What’s so important to you? What did you tell Ron you wanted to see me about?”
His gaze was level, his tone assured. “I wanted to ask you to stop your drilling as soon as possible.”
She couldn’t help it—she laughed. “No wonder he turned you down. Such a request is preposterous.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “From most people, maybe. But then you and I aren’t most people, and you haven’t heard my reasons yet.”
She didn’t think she’d ever heard anything as ludicrous as his request. Obviously he knew nothing about the oil business and even less about her business dealings. “It doesn’t matter what your reasons are. There’s no way I’ll stop.”
He surprised her then. With another one of his slight smiles, he circled her throat with his fingers and stroked her skin with his thumb in an almost casual manner that completely derailed her thoughts. “You’re a very ambitious woman, Tess Baron, but somehow, I think I have a chance to change your mind.”
“You’re crazy,” she whispered, as the heat from his touch backed up in her lungs.
“Maybe, but will you at least give me a chance to explain what my reasons are?”
“I—I can’t. The party-”
“Not tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll meet you for breakfast, wherever and whenever you say.”
She’d known him for only a short time, but she already knew that saying no to him would do no good. If nothing else, his actions tonight had showed her that he was determined to give her an explanation of some sort. Plus, there was an annoying feeling of excitement inside her building at the prospect of getting to see him again. “Okay. Tomorrow morning for breakfast. Here at nine.”
“Good,” he said softly, his hand still at her neck, his long fingers moving up and down her throat. “Very good.” Then he bent his head and kissed her, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, and thoroughly, devouring her taste as if he wanted to make it a part of him so that he could take it with him. By the time he lifted his head, she had to reach out for the terrace balustrade in order not to fall.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
She could only nod and watch as he slipped through an opening in the terrace railing and disappeared into the night.
Gradually and with great effort she pulled herself together. Once her breathing had evened and her pulse had steadied, she returned to the bar and downed the rest of her whiskey. Ignoring the beer, she ordered a large margarita. With it firmly in her hand, she rejoined her party.
Around four in the morning, when the last of her guests had either left or gone to their rooms, and she’d had way more margaritas than she should have, she slipped into her bed. And she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen in five hours when she saw Nick Trejo again.
Why was he so sure he could convince her to stop drilling? Then again, his reason didn’t really matter. He was wrong. There was nothing more important to her than striking oil as soon as possible, then pumping it into the pipeline at a record rate. And she couldn’t allow anyone or anything to stop her.
Not even a sun god whose kiss contained fire.
Tess stumbled out to the terrace clutching a bottle of aspirin in one hand and sunglasses in the other. As soon as the daylight hit her eyes, she groaned and carefully eased on her sunglasses.
“Coffee, ma’am?” Guadalupe asked. Guadalupe was one of four people who worked in and around the house and whose salary was included in the price of the lease.
She started to nod, then immediately realized her mistake as pain jolted through her head. “Yes, please,” she whispered.
Gratefully she sank into a chair in front of the table, where breakfast had already been laid out. She took a searing gulp of coffee, downed four aspirin, then slumped back against the chair. Damn gulls. They sounded fiendishly cheerful. And…loud. Lord help her, were they that loud every morning?
She’d never had a hangover before, and if she lived through this one, she swore she’d never have one again.
“Is there anything else you’d like, ma’am?”
She almost jumped. She’d forgotten Guadalupe’s presence. Warily she eyed the table. Orange juice, fruit, sausage, eggs and an assortment of rolls, jellies and breads-enough to feed your basic small army.
“This will do for now, thank you.”
The thing was, her intake of alcohol had always been limited to the occasional beer or a glass of wine with dinner. Even in college, when most kids were celebrating their freedom from their parents with copious amounts of drinking, she’d spent her time sating her appetite for learning about business and oil. Succeeding had always been the most important thing for her, and it still was. She was convinced she could overcome this hangover just as she overcame all obstacles—by sheer determination. If she stayed really still…
Tess. Nick paused at the bottom of the terrace steps. She was already at the table, though it didn’t look as if she’d eaten anything yet. Her head was resting on the back of the chair, with her loose blond hair hanging down behind it and blowing lightly in the breeze. The hemline of her short, simple blue dress cut across her upper thighs. The morning sun gilded the skin of her bare arms and legs.
How
