THREE
GAGE had never seen Lily look less than perfect. She always looked beautiful, even when she rushed into the office at two in the morning to handle some sort of media crisis. But in a dark navy blue gown with ruffled sleeves, a demure neckline and a back that dipped so low it ought to be illegal, she was stunning.
Her hair was pinned to the side so that her curls cascaded over one shoulder, and didn’t cover any of the skin that was on display in the back of the gown. Her makeup was more dramatic than she usually wore to the office and her legs were bare, and on glorious show, the dress barely skimming her knees. And they were amazing legs.
Gage’s libido kicked into gear, a reminder that he hadn’t had sex in a very long time. But business had been intense and when he hadn’t been focused on his various building projects he’d been handling Madeline’s big move into her new, off-campus apartment. An apartment she hadn’t wanted, because she couldn’t afford it herself. But there was no way he was letting his little sister live in a dangerous part of town, not when he could afford to buy her any home she might want. But she was stubborn, and while he appreciated that aspect of her personality, it could also be a major pain. It was also time-consuming and detrimental to his sex life.
But that was why he was now standing in the foyer of the San Diego Aquarium eyeing his PR specialist’s legs.
He put his hand on the curve of her bare back and he felt her jump beneath his touch. A slow smile curved his lips. He leaned in and her sweet feminine scent teased his sense. “You wore navy blue because I told you not to wear black, didn’t you?”
She pursed her lips and looked to the side, her expression defiant and sexy at the same time. “Maybe.”
“Because you like to challenge me without defying me outright,” he said, his lips brushing her ear. He felt the small tremor that shook her body. Interesting. She wasn’t as icy as she wanted him, and people in general, to believe.
“I don’t want to get fired,” she whispered, her dark eyes warning him to back up or lose a limb.
He frowned. He liked the feisty edge that Lily had, but she was his employee and he had no right to touch her simply because he felt an attraction. She was a good employee, and everything that made her so great to work with, made her the kind of woman he never wanted to get involved with.
He dropped his hand and studied her flawless face. She looked different out of her work suits, with her brown curls shimmering over her shoulder. Softer. Touchable.
His hands itched to do just that. To touch her petal-soft skin, to run his fingers through her hair. His body tightened in response to the thought, even as his mind rejected it.
“As if I would fire you,” he said, putting distance between them. “You know too much.”
“I think I might get that matted and framed. High praise indeed.”
They walked into the main section of the art exhibit, which was being held in the kelp forest. The entire room was cast in a bluish glow, compliments of the massive, three-story cylindrical aquarium that made up the structure of the space. Water plants grew to impossible heights and fish wove through them. Art was placed on easels around the room, with a place to write down and submit bids next to each one of them.
Gage walked over to one of the displays and, without even glancing at the artwork, took a form and wrote an astronomical sum on it before dropping it in the box.
“You really should be less discreet when you do things like that, and when you do things like create wildlife preserves near your resort sites,” she said.
“Why is that?”
“It would help your image. And you need it. ‘Property developer’ is kind of a tough profession to sell to the public. You could make my job easier by trumpeting charitable contributions.”
He frowned. “You were a witness. Trumpet it.”
“You don’t want me to, though.”
His jaw tensed. “Giving for the sake of your reputation is just paying for good publicity.”
“Most people don’t have a problem with that.”
“And what’s your opinion on it, Lily? And don’t give me your ‘my opinion doesn’t matter as long as the public likes you’ speech.”
She bit her lip. This side of Gage always confused Lily. In some ways he seemed more uncomfortable having people know anything good about him. He didn’t seem to mind the negative press that came when he dated one supermodel, then switched to an actress the next night. But he didn’t seem to want to let anyone know about his good behavior. And there was something about that that made her almost like him sometimes, and that made all the other physical things he made her feel intensify.
“It’s … okay, events like this are definitely a little bit fake. It’s see and be seen. Most people are flashing their bids all over the place.” She jerked her head toward the glittering celebrities and debutantes gathered around different pieces of art, waving their bids around while they talked.
“I don’t play the game,” he said. “It doesn’t appeal.”
“You have to play the game a little bit, Gage. It’s good for business.”
“What’s it like for you, doing a job that’s so at odds with who you are?”
The question was so strange and unexpected, she turned sharply, her mouth dropping open. “I … how is it at odds with who I am?” She knew better than most how important image was.
The Lily Ford from a Kansas trailer park, who had pulled her way from poverty and put her past far, far behind her, was not going to get anywhere in the field of public relations. She knew, she’d tried that. But the Lily Ford who knew how to present herself with icy cool dignity, the Lily who wore tailored, designer clothing and always had her hair done perfectly, that Lily was a success. And it had all been a matter of image.
Who she was underneath didn’t matter to clients or to the public when she was making a statement. All that mattered was what they saw. That philosophy was how she made her living, and she believed it, lived it, more than anyone she’d ever come into contact with.
“You seem to value some sort of integrity. And you believe that these sorts of shows of wealth and generosity are false. But you wish I would engage in them.”
She shrugged. “If the world were different, maybe these things wouldn’t matter. But we’re in a media-obsessed culture. That means making a good face to present to the media, and through that, the public.”
“I don’t like to pander to the public.”
“I know you don’t, but you do like to make money. And that means keeping your image favorable. Again, easier said than done for a capitalist pig like yourself.”
He shot her a deadly look that she ignored.
They continued to walk through the room. She noticed how, though Gage greeted people casually, he seemed separate from them, too. He didn’t really engage with people. She made her money partly by reading people, she had to have a good idea of who her clients were and what made them tick. But after four months, in a lot of ways, Gage remained a question mark.
