Winning Back His Bride. Teresa Southwick
Читать онлайн книгу.
“Are you wondering if I still have personal feelings for you?”
“I’m wondering if your personal feelings are about getting even with me,” she said, putting a finer point on it.
“I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. I’m not a turn-the-other-cheek kind of guy.”
No. He was a man-of-action kind of guy. They’d barely been introduced when he swept her off her feet. After all this time apart, just a few minutes with him showed her she was still vulnerable to the Michael Sullivan brand of charm. And he wasn’t being charming.
Still standing in front of his desk, she squared her shoulders and linked her fingers together, refusing to let him see that her hands were shaking. “Did you call me in to ask for my resignation?”
“I called you in because you’re the hotel events planner.” Something dangerous flared in his eyes. “I want you to plan an event.” He held out his hand, indicating the chairs in front of his desk. “Why don’t you sit down?”
Did she have a choice? She needed this job. She had a year left on her contract. If she walked, he could sue her for breach of contract and she had no doubt he would—because he wasn’t a turn-the-other-cheek kind of guy. Defending herself against a lawsuit could get expensive and ruin the professional reputation she’d been working so hard to build in Las Vegas. On top of that, she’d refinanced her condo and borrowed against the equity to pay Michael back for the wedding.
“Okay.” Since she couldn’t walk out, she sat.
“As you know, I have real estate and hotels in the east, and this is my second hotel in Las Vegas.”
“Yes.”
He folded his hands and rested them on his glass and chrome desk as he leaned forward. “I’m planning a luxury high-rise on the land that adjoins this hotel. It’s a fairly new concept to Las Vegas and will give the Vegas Valley its vertical identity. The tallest residential super tower west of the Mississippi will also make this a flagship property for the upscale Sullivan brand’s global footprint.”
“Very ambitious.”
“I’m an ambitious man. This is the only city in the world that reinvents itself every day. And now it’s my city with all its possibilities—and risks.”
She knew all about risk. She’d found out she wasn’t a risk-taker but that hadn’t saved her from regrets. With an effort, she pulled her thoughts back to what he was saying.
Dark intensity sizzled in his eyes. “It’s a good location, with spectacular views of the lights on The Strip and close to downtown restaurants, shows and high-end shopping.”
“Sounds like New York west.”
“That’s the plan. But we need to hit the ground running at the grand opening.”
“Did you have any thoughts about what tone you want to set at the sales release?” She was the planner, but it was his event.
He nodded. “Glitzy, in a three-ring circus kind of way. The biggest dog and pony show you can possibly pull off.”
“I can pull off whatever you want.”
He didn’t respond, but the muscle in his jaw jerked, and she wondered if he was thinking about the day she’d walked away. She shouldn’t still care what he thought, but he was her boss and all she had was her job. So she’d best start doing it and focus on the here and now instead of on the past.
She sat up straighter and met his gaze. “Glitz would include Hollywood A-listers. Entertainment personalities with a lot of money to spend and wealthy noncelebrities. It should be invitation only, and we send them out to everyone you know or ever hope to know.”
“You’re the expert.”
Did he really think that? Or was he setting her up for a fall? “Then I’ll brainstorm some promotion and giveaway ideas. Nothing brings people out like a spectacle and freebies. Did you have a theme in mind?” she asked.
“Again, that’s your field of expertise.”
“Sullivan Towers, the sky’s the limit,” she said off the top of her head. “Or ‘Living the High Life.’”
“Not bad.” His dark eyes gleamed with reluctant approval.
Geneva felt the power of that unwilling positive reaction deep down inside, pressing against a place she’d closed off a year ago. It was a Pandora’s box of feelings: messy, confusing, disturbing and embarrassing.
Yes, she’d called off the wedding. Her mistake had been in waiting until just before saying “I do.” But until that moment, she’d tried to convince herself that Michael actually loved her. If she’d gone through with the ceremony knowing he didn’t, she’d have been destroyed. And so would he. But he’d never given her the chance to explain that she’d done him a favor.
“So are we finished?” she asked.
“For now.”
Very bad didn’t begin to describe this meeting. And he would know how she felt unless she got out of here now.
“I’ll work up a proposal.” She stood. “But before I get started, Michael, I need an answer to my question.”
“Which one?” he asked, standing too.
She looked way up at him, six feet of solid muscle and sophisticated suave sex appeal. Her insides quivered with memories of the short time he’d been hers. Then the memories became a fist squeezing her heart, making it difficult to draw in air.
“Do you intend to terminate my contract because of what happened between us?”
He settled his hands on lean hips. “Didn’t we just have a meeting about an event I expect you to plan?”
“I got that. But are you going to change your mind? We’ll have to work closely together and I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t work with me at all.” If he simply let her out of her contract, it would be the clean break she needed to avoid this emotional free-for-all and maintain her professional reputation.
“That would imply I hadn’t forgiven you.”
“Have you?”
Michael folded his arms over his impressive chest and smiled his pretty smile, the one that always crumbled her defenses like stick houses in a stiff breeze. “I always say—forgive your enemies. It messes with their heads.”
That was nothing new. For the last year thoughts of him had messed with her head even when she hadn’t seen him. Now he was back in her life and that meant he could mess with her heart unless she figured out a way to Michael-proof it.
“Geneva. I need—”
Need? The word stopped Michael. He didn’t need, not from her. He wouldn’t let himself need anything from her. At least not personally. Professional needs were different.
“We have to talk.”
Michael watched her back stiffen and braced himself. He thought he’d done that a week ago, before seeing her again. He’d thought he’d been prepared for eyes so big, so green he could fall into them. For the thick, shiny brown hair that made him want to bury his fingers in the silken strands. For the deep dimples that could drop a man to his knees when she smiled and the body that could tempt him to throw caution to the wind.
He’d thought wrong.
It had been a year, for God’s sake, and when she’d walked into his office he’d wanted to terminate her contract on the spot. The problem was, he was still putting together the project’s financing. His past with Geneva was no secret, and firing her could be a disaster. Perception was everything. If he couldn’t handle having an old girlfriend around, how was he going to deal with the stress of a billion-dollar development?
Or worse, it could look like he