remember Matt, your pilot from LA,” Jeff said. While Jeff ran the operations of the family’s resort empire, Matt pursued his passion of flying. He offered flights to important resort guests and volunteered his skills with locals in need.
“Of course. The flight was short and sweet. You are a very good pilot.” Nicolas shook hands with Matt, too.
Oh...that voice! His deep, melodious Brazilian Portuguese accent had played a part in quite a few of Chloe’s fantasies. She wished he’d take off those dark sunglasses. She longed to see his eyes.
Stop it! She warned herself. She shouldn’t be longing to see any of his body parts. Chloe had made a deal with herself to steer clear of men for a while and was determined to keep it. Looking was fine, but acting on her desires was out of the question.
“Dad sends his apologies for not meeting you himself. He’s not feeling well,” Jeff said poignantly.
That was an understatement. The last time Chloe had checked in on her father, he’d been sitting in his room with the shades drawn, fighting the downward spiral into his dark place. Her father had fought with untreated depression for decades. She’d dealt with the dangerous effects of it as a small child, before the stress led to her parents’ divorce, but then she’d left the family estate with her mother. And she hadn’t understood her dad’s mental illness until she saw it up close. If he didn’t come out of it soon, Chloe would disobey his wishes and bring a psychiatrist into the home, the rumor mill be damned. RW Harper was a powerful man and few people bucked his orders, but she was worried about him and would do whatever it took to help him.
“That is too bad. I was hoping to talk to the great RW Harper. Plus, I have questions about the contract he sent me,” Nicolas said.
“He’ll make time for that during your stay,” Jeff said smoothly. “This is Chloe, the resort’s activities director. She’ll take care of all of your needs for the week.”
Jeff meant business needs. So why did her gaze take a sudden roam across Nicolas’s body. Broad shoulders, narrow waist... She forced her eyes back up to his face. He was watching her.
Her cheeks were on fire. A trickle of sweat ran down her back.
She stretched her hand out and was beyond relieved it wasn’t shaking. “Welcome to Casa Larga.”
“Chloe. I like that name.” He lifted his dark glasses, and his gray-blue eyes locked on to hers and melted her insides. She was seriously going to pass out if she didn’t figure out how to breathe around the man.
He held her hand for several long beats. A Brazilian custom or her own hand refusing to let go? Chloe removed her hand but couldn’t unlock her gaze from his. She used to wonder what had happened to a boy to make his gray eyes project such a soulful expression. The man before her still had the look, but now it was mixed with mature comprehension, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. His eyebrow lifted as if he could see the desperate desire pulsing inside her.
Oh, God, did he know what she was thinking?
Because she suddenly wanted to break all her rules for him.
Matt chuckled beside her. “Hell, guess some things are a bigger deal than I thought. I’d better go give my wife some lovin’. See you all later.” Heading toward his motorcycle, he gave Chloe a thumbs-up.
Surely Matt didn’t think their guest was attracted to her. Nicolas Medeiros dated supermodels and pop stars. Although she was an heiress to the great Harper fortune and a celebrity yoga teacher in her own right, she was no supermodel. She rarely wore makeup and believed in enhancing the inner natural beauty of a person through spiritual awakening. Nicolas, on the other hand, dated women who had professional makeup artists on staff.
“Right this way, Mr. Medeiros.” Jeff motioned for Nicolas to step into the entryway.
Nicolas held back and gave her a look that heated her skin. “Ladies first.”
Walking ahead of him, she wondered where his gaze was—on the low dip in her blouse, exposing her back, on her butt, or on the ten-foot crystal chandelier overhead?
Jeff guided their guest to the foyer, where building plans were spread out across the marble table. “The restaurant will officially open to the public at the end of the week. However, the staff is eager to serve you now. They need the practice.”
“Complimentary, of course,” Chloe said softly and then stepped back to let Jeff do his thing.
Nicolas’s cell phone buzzed. He checked the text and shook his head before returning his attention back to them. “Sorry. Work.”
She hoped to help him unplug from work during his stay. Nicolas was a big music producer, but everyone deserved a little downtime. It was her personal mission as an activities director and yoga teacher to help people learn how to live in the moment. To relax.
“Would you mind telling us about your show? It’ll help me gauge what sorts of activities to prepare for the contestants,” Chloe said.
“If we choose the Harper’s resort for the show,” Nicolas said. “There are three properties under consideration.”
“Oh, I understand.” She looked him in the eye. “I intend to help you make your decision. And choose us, of course.”
“Intriguing.” His lips quirked and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips for real.
“Song of the Heart is a reality show.” His voice gave her a tiny shiver up her back. “Ten singer-songwriter contestants live together in a luxury setting, write songs and compete for a million-dollar music contract.”
“I love it,” she said.
“I’m very familiar with reality shows. We can help yours be a success,” Jeff said as a nod to his past career as the host of Secrets and Sheets, a hidden camera critique of luxury hotels. “Let’s look at the resort blueprints and see where the contestants would spend their time and where you could set up the camera crews. The resort will be ready for guests in eight months, but if your show needs it earlier, Harper Industries will make it work...”
As Jeff talked, Nicolas studied the plans while Chloe studied him.
He had a cropped beard and his hair was dark, thick and cut short. His shoulders were broad. Her schoolgirl crush had matured, but his gaze still had the power to turn her insides to mush.
Nicky M had always been more than a poster boy to her. She’d fancied herself a singer-songwriter once and had truly appreciated Nicky M’s talent. He’d drawn a young, scared girl out of her dark place and lit up her imagination. He’d lifted her heart with his lovely words and beautiful melodies. She owed him more than he’d ever know.
But she didn’t have any business fantasizing about Nicolas now. She wasn’t hooking up with anyone until she got her own life under control. She had to learn how to love herself before she could love anyone else. Until that happened? She wasn’t sleeping with any man. Not even super sexy Nicky M. She had a job to do.
Her father had tasked her with showing their guest all that Plunder Cove had to offer so that he’d agree to film his show at the new resort. Her dad’s exact words were, “Don’t let the man leave without signing the contract, Chloe.
