Taken By Storm. Cat Schield
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to the concierge desk. The carpet seemed suspended over hundreds of springs because Isabel noticed an extra bounce in her stride. She noted several guests responding to her wide grin with smiles of their own. This only added to Isabel’s bright mood.
The concierge currently assigned to the desk looked up from her computer as Isabel approached. “Shane Adams was looking for you a few minutes ago.”
Isabel’s nerves vibrated in a mixture of alarm and glee. “Did he say what about?”
“He wanted your report on the arrangements for extra activities during the Richmond retreat.”
She’d already shared the information with Teresa St. Claire as well as The Opulence management team, but wasn’t surprised that Shane Adams had requested the update, as well. He’d been quite hands-on these last few weeks leading up to corporate’s massive event. And with good reason. This was a major opportunity to show off the best of the hotel’s operation to A-listers and some of the wealthiest people in the country.
Although Isabel knew she could simply send Shane the report by email, she always grabbed any opportunity to speak to him in person. “Did he say where he’d be?”
“He’s over there.” Cindy pointed toward the front door, where Shane was currently deep in discussion with The Opulence’s executive manager, Tom Busch.
As if suddenly aware he was being discussed, Shane glanced toward the concierge desk, and his keen brown gaze struck Isabel, knocking the breath from her lungs. That the man could land such a blow to her senses from clear across a room should’ve put Isabel’s defenses on alert. Instead, she responded with a warm smile that hinted at the strength of her infatuation.
He blinked.
Isabel’s heart leaped as his eyes narrowed and he seemed to truly take her in for the first time in a year. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for. He would see her as a beautiful woman he desired and recognize that she was someone who strove to improve the hotel’s reputation every chance she got.
And then it was over. Shane turned his attention back to the executive manager, dismissing Isabel from his thoughts.
She sagged like a leaky balloon.
Moments later, he ended his conversation and she headed his way. Clutched to her chest was the ten-page document detailing every guest’s preferences, their requested spa services, rounds of golf, and the schedule of visits to area attractions including the local winery and those participating in unique interactive culinary experiences offered at Quintessential Chef.
“Here’s the report you wanted,” Isabel said, waiting in breathless silence for several heartbeats while Shane scanned the document.
With his attention focused elsewhere, she took several seconds to drink in the strong structure of his jaw and cheekbones. The ever-present dent between his eyebrows and surprisingly full, kissable lips. She shivered at the thought of how their softness would feel against her skin and wasn’t prepared when he lifted his gaze and caught her staring at him.
His eyes narrowed as he silently studied her. Isabel bit her lip to stop herself from babbling out an apology for the infatuation he must’ve seen written all over her face, but his phone buzzed, interrupting his focus.
“If you have any questions, we can go over them tonight,” Isabel said, rushing to make the offer before she lost his attention once more. “I’ve arranged for a table at Overlook at eight.” Isabel barely paused for breath. Shane hadn’t yet answered his phone—his gaze hadn’t even drifted toward the demanding thing—and she was going to capitalize on every millisecond of his notice. “I’m really looking forward to our dinner.”
* * *
Heart hammering with uncharacteristic vigor, Shane Adams regarded the plucky redhead standing before him while his phone’s insistent buzz barely registered. Striving for detachment and finding it beyond his grasp, he surveyed Isabel’s flawless pale skin, the thick dark lashes framing her lively hazel eyes, and her lush mouth painted a rosy pink while her words replayed in his head.
I’ve arranged a table at Overlook at eight.
I’m really looking forward to our dinner.
Had she just asked him out?
Since Isabel Withers had joined Richmond Hotel Group, he’d noticed a disturbing tendency to become distracted whenever he visited The Opulence. With her russet hair and lively personality a beacon for his attention, he’d pinpointed her as the source of his agitation. But it wasn’t until midway through his first quarterly tour, when he caught himself trying to identify what about her perfume had caused him to lean forward and suck in a lungful of the lushly aromatic, sweet scent, that he realized what a danger she was to his disciplined professionalism.
“Ah—” Damn the woman. Her invitation left him gaping at her like an idiot. “I’m not sure my schedule—”
“Oh, don’t worry. I already checked with Sheila. She said you were booked into meetings all day, but that you were free after eight. That’s why I arranged for a table at Overlook then.”
“You spoke to my assistant?”
Shane imagined the glee with which Sheila had fielded that particular phone call. She was constantly harping on him to take a little time out of his schedule to date. Although he never did anything to fix the situation, Shane recognized the need for balance in his life. Working eighty hours a week might not have been a problem for him, but he recognized his staff didn’t have his endurance.
“Of course.” Isabel’s lips parted in a dazzling smile that made Shane’s head spin. “I check with her every time you visit so I can make sure all your needs are met.”
His needs?
Those two words sent sexual awareness rushing through him. He barely won the battle to keep his gaze from roaming down her slender frame, but that didn’t stop him from speculating about the sort of curves hidden beneath the hotel’s blue-and-gold uniform. Shane yanked his thoughts back under control. She was one of his employees. He couldn’t go there. Ever.
Shane made a mental note to set up a date in the near future with one of the women he saw from time to time. He’d obviously neglected his needs as the Richmond retreat drew near.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I do need to eat,” And it was a business dinner. Despite that momentary slip-up, he shouldn’t have trouble keeping things strictly professional. “We should discuss the specific arrangements for each of the VIPs arriving next week.”
Isabel nodded. “Actually, we have a meeting scheduled with Teresa tomorrow to go over those details. I have something else I’d like to discuss with you.”
Something of a business nature? Her expression gave him no clue, but nothing in the last year indicated she was anything other than a professional. With a sinking feeling, he realized his earlier flare of personal interest was leading him to question her motives.
“Can you give me a hint what that might be?”
“I’d rather surprise you.” She hit him with another bright smile, this time flavoring it with a dash of sly teasing. “I’d really appreciate if you’d come to dinner with an open mind.”
Against his better judgment, Shane found himself utterly intrigued. “Why would you think I’d do otherwise?”
Her eyebrows rose at his question. “You have very strong opinions about everything done at the resort.”
Although her measured tone and demeanor remained neutral, Shane recognized the point she was trying to make. He’d shown a heavy hand at The Opulence in the three years following Richmond Hotel Group’s management of the resort. The place had been a chaotic mess when they’d won the contract. By instituting strict rules for how everything was done, from folding towels to welcoming the guests, he’d whipped the operations into shape in record time.
The turnaround