Date With a Diva Page 11

  “I can admire a woman who knows what she wants.” Hell, any Hollywood female probably would have bargained for driving rights with the brand spanking new Mercedes SL55-AMG the Diva’s Last Dance producer had given him as sort of an under-the-table signing bonus. “Why don’t you consider yourself my personal VIP?”

  “A VIP?” For a moment her blue eyes sparkled like a kid at a Christmas, but then she seemed to recover herself as she gave him a wide grin. “Perfect. I wouldn’t mind showing a certain someone at Club Paradise that I’m not the low-level peon she thinks I am.” Daisy stood taller in her superhigh heels, which still only put her at his chin.

  Sex in exchange for what sounded like Daisy’s revenge. An unholy bargain if ever he’d heard one.

  “You’re on.”

  The smile she flashed had him so dazzled he almost needed his shades back on. “Killer. You want to go back to your room?”

  She almost looked as eager to be alone as he was. Tempting. Oh so damn tempting.

  But despite his carnal bargain with Daisy, he hadn’t been raised to take advantage of women—even the kind who seemed to know how to watch out for themselves.

  “And shirk my duties as your VIP host?” He tucked her hand inside his arm and scooped up her notepad along with his hat and sunglasses. “Not on your life. First I’m going to get you dinner in the VIP lounge and then I’m going to give you a tour of the movie-making process.”

  Daisy blinked. Once. Twice. Again. Had she heard him clearly? No sex until after he’d lived up to his end of the bargain? Holy moly. The man must be a saint.

  Not that she thought she was such a hot piece of ass and he should be dying to go to bed with her. But in her experience, once men knew sex was even a remote possibility, they hounded a woman—any woman—until they got what they wanted. For Bram, a movie star who could have sex whenever, wherever and with whomever he chose, to feel compelled to uphold his end of the deal first…well, that was just plain unheard of.

  Also, it was just plain nice.

  Daisy hurried to keep up with him as he guided her out of the meeting room and down another hallway toward the lounge. His bicep felt deliciously warm and solid as he steered her along and, once they got into bed, she vowed to knock his socks off as a thank-you.

  In the meantime, she crossed her fingers Lainie Reynolds would make a pass through the VIP lounge while Daisy was with Bram. She didn’t know why it mattered so much that she thumb her nose at the woman who’d fired her. The woman whose respect she’d once coveted. It might be petty and small-minded to want to rub Lainie’s nose in her mistake, but that didn’t stop Daisy from hoping she and Bram would be seen together.

  And while she was at it, she also hoped Bram wouldn’t have any reason to open her notebook. As a high-school dropout who’d struggled to earn her G.E.D, Daisy might not be the world’s best educated woman, but it didn’t take a genius to realize a nice guy like Bram would be disappointed to read what she had written there.

  CRISIS AVERTED.

  Lainie patted herself on the back as she savored her last bite of lobster doused in warm butter. Moonlight danced on the ocean in watery time to a swing tune delivered by a local big band she’d called in to play at the impromptu lobsterfest. With the backdrop of the sky and stars, she could almost forget her hotel was still crawling with cops and two outside cleaning crews. While South Beach singles whirled to the music and indulged themselves at the extra tiki bars erected for the occasion, Lainie thanked her lucky stars she’d managed to divert attention from the explosion and show her guests a good time.

  At least for tonight.

  “Are you going to finish that?” Nico leaned closer, her ever vigilant chaperone since they’d struck their deal. He’d pointed to a half a lobster tail on her plate while they sat on cushions in the sand around a low table lit with flickering torches to ward off the dark.

  “Maybe.” She pulled her plate near in a ridiculous urge to protect whatever she could from this man determined to invade every facet of her life. “There’s probably more to be had if you ask one of the waiters.”

  “Want me to feed you?” He reached for her plate, ignoring all her defensive posturing. “You can pretend I’m your love slave and force me to feed you with my fingers. Doesn’t that sound like a potential theme for one of your exotic shindigs?”

  She stabbed the remaining shellfish with her fork before he could steal it. “Sounds like a fun theme, but I’d rather feed myself tonight.”

  Shoving his cushion back from the table, Nico leaned back in the sand to stare at her. “You’re still mad at me for forcing my way into a few nights in The Diva Penthouse with you, aren’t you?”

  “Mad? No. Inconvenienced? Terribly.” She shoved her plate aside and signaled to the waiter to clear their end of the low, makeshift table. Everyone else they’d been seated with was long gone to dance and mingle or roast mini dessert fare over the open flame of a beach bonfire.

  “I can’t believe you.” He shook his head, his dark hair just grazing along the edge of a crisp white collar he’d left open at the neck. The man looked damn good in torchlight, even if she happened to be frustrated as hell with him right now.

  “What’s so hard to believe? That I’d rather go about my business without a two-hundred-pound shadow lurking over my shoulder every second of the day when even the police—whose business it is to protect people—didn’t seem overly concerned about the coincidence of one bitchy note and a kitchen explosion in the same week?”

  And she didn’t even mention that, despite his willingness to help, Nico could also be a bit pushy about his opinions around the hotel. In the course of the few hours it took to set up the party, Nico had weighed in on at least fifty percent of the decisions she’d made—how to set up the tables, which band to contract, how late the party should run, what to tell the media about the explosion, what to say to the film crew about the ordeal. She’d have her hair all torn out by tomorrow at this rate.

  He dug in his pocket and somehow she wasn’t surprised to see his Hacky Sack make a reappearance. Did he carry that damn thing with him everywhere?

  After three tosses and catches, his gaze narrowed. “Is that what’s really bothering you? The fact that I want to make sure you don’t get blown off the planet by another Club Paradise crisis? Or are you just mad because you gave in and slept with me?”

  The waiter who had been clearing the table made a sound like he’d swallowed a lobster whole. Lainie gave him a glare that sent him fleeing for cover, dishes in hand.

  “How kind of you to inform my staff of our onetime brainless decision to be intimate.” Yet even as she bit out the angry words, she couldn’t help but think how intimate they’d been. How Nico had taken her to sexual places she’d only read about. She drummed her fingers on the table and looked out over the sea, searching for patience. Tact. “Honestly, maybe I am mad I slept with you.”

  For once, he didn’t say anything, but she could hear the rhythmic toss and catch of the small beanbag, a sound that soothed her as much as the steady roll of the ocean waves.

  “Maybe I’ve been trying to keep men at a distance by holding onto my bitterness toward my ex.” Heaven knew, she hadn’t made any effort to date over the past year. “Because as long as I didn’t let anybody too close, I couldn’t get burned again. And whether or not that approach was shortsighted is beside the point. It was really working for me.”

  “Was it?” He leaned forward, slapping the Hacky Sack on the table as he moved closer. His white shirt gaped open as he leaned, giving her an inviting view of lean male muscles and bronze skin. “Can you really say you were happy living and working in your own world, isolating yourself in The Diva Penthouse like an ice queen and not coming out except to coerce your staff into compliance with your wishes?”

  She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d tossed his wine in her face. The calm roll of the waves mocked the stormy torrent of her emotions. “You make me sound like a heartless witch. Is that h
ow you view me?”

  Was that how other people viewed her?

  “Hell no. I think you’re a kick-butt CEO with a thriving business on her hands. And maybe you’ve had to be a little tough and demanding while you were getting things off the ground, but the good news is, Club Paradise is a huge success.” He reached to touch her hair, to smooth one palm over the straight strands and down to her shoulder. “I just think maybe you’ve been operating at code red for so long you don’t know how to step back and loosen the reins.”

  His words stung. And not just because she feared there might be a strain of truth in them. Mostly they hurt because he’d felt the need to point out her flaws. She squeezed her temples in an attempt to hide a tear that was highly uncharacteristic of her. “Well, thanks very much for those astute insights. I’ll certainly keep them in mind the next time I hire out one of those touchy-feely management-training services to put me in better touch with my employees. Remind me not to bother being honest with you the next time you ask a nosy question.”

  She tried to rise to leave, but he had plenty of time to stop her since they were sitting on cushions on the sand. She only made it to her knees when he hauled her back down. Stiffening, she counted backward from ten to prevent herself from yelling. Focused on the last of the police cruisers finally pulling away from the hotel.

  “Shit. I’m sorry.” He held her tight while he apologized. Loosened his grip just a little once the words were out. “Sometimes I let my mouth get away from me. Okay, all the time I let my mouth get away from me. It’s one of the less endearing qualities that’s hereditary in my family. I had no right to critique how you run your hotel.”

  “Or my staff?”

  “Or your staff.” He let go of her completely, giving her the option of leaving now if she wanted.

  Oddly, she didn’t want to. They sat on the beach and watched the incoming tide from the relative comfort of their seat cushions for a few moments before she spoke again.

  “I know I’ve been a demanding boss this year, but I have eased up since our numbers started nudging into the black.” She knew she couldn’t be a perfectionist with every aspect of the hotel. That’s why she’d hired middle managers—to motivate their employees and be responsive to their needs.

  She didn’t know why it mattered that Nico understand her perspective, but it did. They’d shared something special when she’d brought him back to her suite, and he deserved at least to see where she was coming from.

  Nico knew he shouldn’t touch her. Had refrained wherever possible all day since he didn’t plan on letting things get out of hand between them again. But his fingers found their way to the skinny spaghetti strap of her long white knit dress, his thumb tracing the path between her collarbone and the narrow piece of fabric.

  “The only reason I said anything is because I think we’re alike in that way. I was a pretty demanding coach this year because the Panthers were in the division finals. I couldn’t afford to slack off and be the nice guy. But I told myself that in other years, when we weren’t in a position to win, I wouldn’t have to work my players so hard.”

  “And you figure I’m not in a play-off position now, so I ought to step back?”

  “Again, it’s your business not mine, but I thought as long as Club Paradise is doing so well maybe you could afford a few days off.” He hesitated. “Maybe you could give people like Daisy the fake waitress a break.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Daisy and I have more issues than what you see on the surface. She tried to suck the tonsils right out of Brianne’s fiancé last fall. And while I realize it’s none of my business if she wants to throw herself at unsuspecting men, I didn’t appreciate paying her salary as a cigarette girl while she wandered around the hotel on a search-and-seduce mission.”

  “It seems like she’s successfully snagged Bram’s eye.” Nico nodded toward the pair dancing in the sand a few yards away. They must have ditched the dance floor for a more private beachside clinch.

  Lainie peered over her shoulder at them. “Bully for her. Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll start impersonating his maid instead of his waitress and she can finally pay me back some of the lost work hours she owes me.”

  “Damn. Forget what I said before. You’re way tougher on people than me.” He liked the way she tilted her head to the side when he touched her. As if she wanted him to touch more.

  She looked softer tonight in her white dress, her cheeks pink from the fresh air and from a glass of merlot. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, the straps of her gold sandals wrapping around her feet and up her legs to tie in a long bow.

  “I have very high standards.” Her gaze followed Bram and Daisy.

  He didn’t say anything, turning over that piece of information in his mind.

  “And before you make any remarks about my high standards leading me to marry a criminal, let me just say that, on the surface, Robert Flynn looked like everything I wanted in a man.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything of the sort.” He was an impulsive speaker and occasionally insensitive, but even he knew better than to bring up the ex. “But please, go on. I think I’d like to hear what Lainie Reynolds wants in a man.”

  “Wanted. Past tense.” Shifting on her cushion, she waved away the maintenance man who’d come to break down their table. The rest of the dinner tables had been moved inside for the night, but they continued to sit at theirs, their torch burning low while the rest of the party picked up speed around them. “But back then, I wanted stability in a man and I wanted a great outward appearance. Not necessarily a GQ-looking guy, but a man who knew how to behave in public situations and could hold his own in a media interview since my career was already putting me in the spotlight.”

  “And from what I remember,” Nico mused, “Flynn was great with the media. There had even been some talk of him running for a political office a few years back.”

  “He ate up the limelight. Part of the reason why I thought we’d be a great match.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder, her red nails a stark contrast to her fair hair and white dress. “I’ll be the first to admit I chose him for rather superficial reasons, but I meant it when I said in sickness and in health and all that do or die stuff. Marriage meant forever as far as I was concerned.”

  He processed this new information about Lainie. He hadn’t expected someone so bitter about her divorce to be such a proponent of wedded bliss.

  “Unless, of course, your husband turns out to be a major criminal who steals from you, cheats on you and asks his mistress to run away with him to the Cayman Islands. And then, forget it. I don’t need a club over the head to realize some marriages just aren’t meant to be.”

  “You deserved better.” He wondered if she’d ever give any guy a chance to show her better.

  “At least it’s over.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hands as if she was shoving the whole mess away. “I avoided personal bankruptcy, and I found a way to turn this albatross of a hotel into the hottest destination on the strip.”

  “What about marriage?” Maybe if he heard her rail against the very idea, he’d be able to stifle this connection he felt with her. Because, bottom line, he was a family guy. Perhaps if he could get it into his head that Lainie would never share those same values, they could get back to attraction, pure and simple. No, strings sex seemed to be something they could both be very comfortable with.

  “Marriage? Ha!” Her disparaging expression confirmed all he needed to know. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I walk down a church aisle again.”

  He could feel the connection between them fade. He could never go for a woman who wasn’t as family oriented as he was. The sting of disappointment surprised him more than he would have expected over a woman he hardly knew. Why should he care if she wanted something totally different out of life than he did?

  He should be cheering because now he could at least simplify things and just enjoy having sex with her. Memories of their afternoon together, neve
r far at bay today, blasted back into his brain. Lainie teasing him, tormenting him, going wild…

  Her voice broke through his fantasies. “But then again, one day I’ll want to have kids. Hard to believe that I could want a baby and not really care about a husband, but somehow I always pictured myself as a mom one day.”

  And just like that, all of Nico’s fantasies shifted. Changed. Incorporated wild sex with Lainie that one day resulted in kids. The ultimate dream of a highly sexed, family-oriented guy.

  Just like that, his sense of connection to her was back, stronger and more dangerous than ever. Because as much as he might deceive himself into thinking he could have those things with Lainie, the reality of the situation was that it would be a cold day in hell before she walked down the aisle again.

  For that matter, he didn’t even know what he wanted to do with his life now that his hockey career was over.

  As the encroaching tide grazed his toes and the moon rose higher in the sky, Nico promised himself not to get any more tangled up with a woman he didn’t stand a chance with. Despite the great fantasies, it looked as if he’d be in for a cold night alone.

  10

  DAISY KNEW SHE HAD TO BE dreaming because enchanted nights like this only happened in Disney movies or magazine spreads.

  Soft sand cushioned her feet as she danced with Bram in the moonlight on their own little stretch of beach. A thick carpet of stars shone above them, making her deliciously dizzy every time her partner bent her backward for a dip. Like now.

  Bram slanted forward, lean muscles taut as he positioned an arm underneath her back, his hips inches away from hers. They stared at one another, breath coming fast, while the rest of the seaside partygoers faded into the background. The horns of a seventies disco tune couldn’t compete with the steady roll of ocean waves at their feet or the fast thrum of eager heartbeats.