Coming on Strong. Tawny Weber
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former wedding date. He’d spent two days dissecting Eventfully Yours’s proposal with his management team, listening to their analysis and opinions. The unanimous belief was that of all the proposals, this was unquestionably the strongest. The best. And in Mitch’s opinion, the biggest pain in the ass.
Not because the plan would be difficult to implement. All that meant was he had to work harder, smarter, than the average guy. Since he’d built his reputation doing just that, he never shied from difficult.
Proof positive was right here, he thought as he looked around Spago Restaurant. Airy, bright and lush, it was one of the top restaurants in L.A. He’d have had to save up for a month just to bring Belle to have a drink here when they were engaged. But not anymore. Six years and a driving need to prove himself to her, to everyone—including his former father-in-law-to-be—who’d thought he’d marry his way to success, had given him a much stronger edge.
So no, he didn’t blink at taking on the difficult. But this plan came with his personal version of kryptonite: Belle Forsham. The one woman guaranteed not only to bring him to his knees, but to make sure he loved the hell out of being there.
Working with her could be a disaster. If he let himself get off track, the results would be ugly. He had everything on the line here. Not only the resort, but his investors’ money and trust. To say nothing of his reputation. Sex with Belle wasn’t worth risking all that. Which was why he was only agreeing to part of her proposal. The events, specifically.
As intriguing, and probably lucrative, as the sex themes had been, he didn’t trust himself to deal with her on that level. She was simply too much temptation. He was afraid she’d use those themes to take that hot kiss one or two—or twenty—steps farther.
So—he fingered the napkin again—he’d keep her at arm’s length. Business, pure and simple. Hell, he’d been burned once, he was a smart man. He knew how to keep his fingers—and other body parts—to himself. If he was otherwise tempted, he had his talisman as a reminder that Belle was off-limits.
Suddenly, as though someone had pushed a button, his body went on full alert. His senses flared as he glanced across the restaurant, not surprised to see Belle making her way toward him. Sleek and sexy in a simple spring dress of the palest pink, she sauntered between the linen-covered tables, her eyes never leaving his. Standing as she approached, Mitch eyed her half smile, the hint of naughty amusement igniting his body to instant lust.
His body would just have to get over it.
“Thanks for meeting me,” he said as he gestured to the chair the waiter held out. “I’m sure you have a busy schedule.”
Her green eyes narrowed as if she were trying to read his tone, then Belle gave a little shrug and murmured her thanks to the waiter.
“My schedule’s never too busy for you,” she returned, spreading the napkin over her lap without releasing his gaze. “Unless, of course, you’re planning a wedding or something. Then I might have to run.”
Mitch’s jaw sagged. The mischievous humor gleaming in her eyes assured him he hadn’t heard wrong. Leave it to Belle to poke fun at something taboo. It wasn’t just her smile that was naughty.
“I don’t think you’ll need your sneakers anytime soon,” he deadpanned. “My tux is at the cleaners.”
Her laugh rang out, garnering a few indulgent smiles from other diners and sparking an irritatingly warm feeling in Mitch’s belly.
“Whew. Good thing, since I don’t even own a pair. Let’s have lunch and talk business, instead. Okay?”
On cue, the waiter stepped over and handed Belle a menu. She barely glanced at it before ordering iced tea and salad. Interesting. Either she dined at four-star restaurants often enough to be blasé about the famous menu or she really was focused on business. Mitch wondered if she’d been here before, and what kind of men she dated. Irritated at his train of thought, he shoved aside the jealous curiosity and gave the waiter his order. The only thing he needed to know about her activities of the past six years was in reference to her business.
“Your assistant said you had questions, wanted to discuss Eventfully Yours’s proposal in more depth?” she said, her tone professional. Her look, though, was pure sex. Glossy lips pursed, she let her gaze do a slow, appreciative slide over his face and chest. Mitch was grateful the table was between them, both preventing her from going any further and keeping his reaction hidden.
She arched a brow in query. The gleam in her eyes told him she knew she was sending mixed signals and was looking forward to seeing which ones he chose to pick up.
“I do have questions,” Mitch said, his tone neutral. He wasn’t going to play her game, but damned if he’d let her know that. Keeping her guessing was his only shot at maintaining the upper hand. And with Belle, he needed all the control he could get. She was like a wily dominatrix, luring him in with sugar and spice but hiding a whip and chain behind her back.
With that in mind, he pulled out his file of questions, suggestions and ideas. Through the rest of the meal he and Belle hammered out details for the grand opening, as well as a series of smaller pre-events that would build buzz for the resort. He was again impressed with her savvy suggestions, especially as she expanded on her proposal, filling in the crucial details that she’d held back initially.
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