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Authors: Calista Fox

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BOOK: Burned Deep
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“Of course.”

Dane had gone from seductive to troubled to in charge in less than two minutes. He was wildly sexy in all iterations.

“Please,” Amano said as he gestured for me to precede him down the wide marbled corridor to the elevators. I wrenched my gaze from Dane.

“I prefer the stairwell, if you don't mind.” With all the sampling of decadent food I partook of every day at the Lux, I needed all the exercise I could squeeze in.

Halfway to the door at the end of the hall, outside of Dane's office suite, I glanced back. He remained standing in the middle of the corridor, focused on me. Ethan stepped out of the elevator at the opposite end of the floor. He wore a grim expression.

Dane's intensity was one thing. The fact that they were both agitated was something altogether different.

What the hell was going on?

*   *   *

The next morning, I was alternately sifting through catalogs and surfing the Web for more ideas when Dane's executive administrative assistant, Molly, stopped in. She let me know he'd be off-property for the next couple of days.

I found it interesting that he hadn't called or texted with the news himself. Then I realized he was the one who needed space this time. He had to concede that I was right—that I deserved to know more about him and his troubles at the resort. Why he and Ethan were always so locked in deep discussion.

And, for that matter, I wondered if it had been Ethan on the phone—the angry-ring call. Did he have some sort of vested interest in 10,000 Lux?

Most important, would Dane give me the answers I required?

The following days I spent mostly in interviews—and praying like hell I wouldn't hear from my mother again, because I was seriously stressing over the money I'd given her. Thank God I had a job to cover forthcoming bills.

I did my best to focus solely on my hiring objectives. There were plenty of viable candidates from whom to choose, the vast majority of them coming from prestigious Phoenix and Scottsdale resorts, others from California, Florida, and even New York. I was hugely relieved to be on the cover of
Southwest Weddings
magazine this quarter, because it gave me instant credibility. I could see from many of the applicants that they hadn't expected me to be so young.

That I came from a strictly-wedding background didn't help matters, either, when my applicants boasted of the budgets and events they worked with or managed. But a large percent of them followed industry news and were not only impressed by my professional designations but also that I was on a list of preferred planners and had orchestrated two illustrious weddings, in addition to my other upper-echelon ones.

I actually found it a relief in one respect that Dane was absent from the Lux. I wasn't looking for him around every corner, nor did I have to worry if anyone saw us together and speculated whether something was going on between us. I suspected it was more and more difficult for us to hide our attraction because it was so all-consuming. Even my dad had caught on. That was saying something.

Conversely, I missed Dane like crazy. A part of me also considered if he'd done it on purpose—disappeared for a spell with no connection just to make me grind over him and transition from a
demanding to know things before we proceed
stance to a
fuck not knowing anything, just let me have at him
one.

I took him for the strategic type, and it was a good possibility I was correct with my take on the current situation.

Another thing I found interesting was the way Amano loitered about. Sitting outside my office in one of the plush chairs that accompanied the long glass-topped decorative tables, usually on his iPad or phone. Taking his coffee break at the same time I did. Appearing in the courtyard when I met other executives there instead of on the fourth floor. He greeted me out front in the morning and walked me out to the valet in the evenings. No matter how late I stayed.

Did I have a bodyguard now?

And … why would I need one?

Just a comfort level for Dane? Part of protecting his territory?

Granted, that seemed just like him. So I didn't balk or tell Amano—an extremely professional and nice man, despite the scare factor that came with his six-foot-six-inch stature and the
I could kill King Kong with my bare hands
disposition—that I didn't need a shadow.

Though I had a feeling Kyle would take one look at him and head for the hills, never to contact me again.

That could be another Dane tactic. He operated in varying degrees I simply couldn't keep up with.

On Wednesday afternoon, I received a call I wasn't the least bit interested in taking.

Since I hadn't yet hired my own assistant, Molly announced over the speakerphone, “Kathryn DeMille on line three.”

I stared at the handset, debating my options. But if I ignored her, she'd only show up at my townhome. She'd already proven that.

I snatched up the phone. “Hello, Mother.”

“Aria Lynne, darling.”

The double suck-up. I rolled my eyes.

She said, “I just saw the fabulous spread on the executive team of 10,000 Lux, and there was my little girl, front and center. My, oh, my, how you've climbed the corporate ladder. So quickly. I've told all my friends. They're so impressed I have such a successful daughter.”

I reached for my pen and absently tapped the end on the blotter before me. I had a bad feeling about this call. My mother's sudden interest in me did not bode well for any part of my life.

God forbid she should ever discover I was involved with Dane. She'd latch on to that like a dog with a bone, given his social and financial status. When it came to the two of them, I was definitely of the
never the twain shall meet
mentality.

“I'm in the middle of work at the moment,” I said, “so if we can talk la—”

“Well, I was just thinking,” she interjected. “A trip to New York would be so wonderful this time of year. All the fall colors and festivities. And I've never been to Manhattan.…”

I felt the knife twist. “Why would you be going to New York?”

“To meet with agents, of course. For my book.”

I had to curb my temper. “I thought we'd agreed that was over.”

“For five thousand dollars?” She made a soft
tsk
ing sound. “Aria Lynne, you are a senior executive at 10,000 Lux and you're going to let your mother suffer through her last pennies?”

Really?

I wanted to scream. Cry. Nothing would
ever
be enough for this woman!

And now that my name was showing up in papers and magazines, she wanted to swoop in and pretend to be the doting mother she'd never
once
been?

I didn't know what to make of her. I didn't know what to do with her. After I'd turned eighteen and no longer had to legally spend any time with her, I'd stayed in Sedona with my dad, not venturing to Scottsdale to visit her. She hadn't complained, nor had she traveled up the hill to see me. Birthday gifts from her? Nonexistent. College graduation congrats? Not a peep.

She'd cut me off long ago, clearly finding no value in our association.

But now that it seemed I had some relevance in the world—a little more clout and a little more money—who was beating down my door?

I was furious that she'd do this to me. I'd moved past the drama. The trauma. Everything.

Yet here she was, suddenly threatening my dad's reputation and perhaps even his livelihood. Not to mention hinting at a scandal that could damage my image and career.

I abandoned the tapping of the pen and demanded, “What is it that you want, Mother?”

“Well, I've been watching a lot of Oprah lately—I would just love to be on her show—and it seems that a book such as mine could land me an advance somewhere in the hundred-thousand-dollar range.”

My heart nearly stopped. “I don't have that kind of money.”

“But you must be making six figures at 10,000 Lux. Correct? I'm sure we can come to an agreement.”

Fury tore through me. “I always knew you were a piece of work, Mother, but this is downright evil. If you think for one minute—”

“I didn't tell you this before, but I've written the first three chapters already. I started off with some of the bigger names, just to make things juicy right off the bat.”

My stomach roiled.

“Five thousand
a month
would be oh-so helpful, darling.” Her tone was sugary sweet.

She was insane! Maybe all that Botox had contaminated her brain.

“Think about it, Aria Lynne. I'll be in touch.”

The line went dead. I stared at the receiver for endless moments, my mind racing. What in the hell was I going to do with her?

 

chapter 13

I didn't get much sleep that night and was monumentally relieved the next day when Mr. Mysterious texted to take my mind off my mother. I was in the middle of a meeting with PR, discussing initial guest lists for the myriad pre-launch festivities. The VIPs astounded me, and we hadn't even yet touched on those invited to the grand opening.

Amano will pick you up at seven tonight.

I had no idea what compelled me to be sassy—it wasn't exactly advisable with this man—but I typed:
I'm not dating Amano. Pick me up yourself
. Maybe I was just that desperate to see him.

I have business.

I frowned. Wished he could see it. I replied:
Is this a professional request?

You want answers, don't you?

My heart picked up a few extra beats. Had I
really
gotten through to him?

Someone will have to drive me home since I have to be in the office in the morning.

So do I. Bring a change of clothes.

I sucked in a breath. All eyes at the conference table snapped in my direction.

A blush crept up my neck. Covering my faux pas, I said, “Sorry. A vendor just confirmed the garland I want is available.”

“I swear you have the coolest job here,” Lacy Jackson said. She was head of Food and Beverage.

“For me, yes,” I concurred. “But PR hobnobs with society types at galas. Marketing is being wooed by every Southwest athletic team for joint ventures, and you get to sample food and expensive wines and liqueurs all day long.”

“So true.” She beamed. “It's not a position I'd trade for all the chocolate made from Venezuela cacao pods in the world.”

“And companies send it to you in bricks, it seems,” said Carter Moore, the VP of Marketing.

They all went off on a dark-chocolate and red-wine tangent and I stole another glance at my phone.

I'm waiting.

I smirked, feeling his impatience.

Then typed,
Yes.

*   *   *

Thank God I'd reserved the afternoon for ordering decoration samples. Although this was a critical part of the launch—everything had to look just right and be as magnificent as the Lux itself—I wasn't making any sort of concrete decisions at the moment. Just examining and contemplating options.

Had I needed to focus on the budget or selecting employees from the first round of interviews, I would have been screwed. I couldn't keep my mind from wandering to Dane and whatever he had planned for the evening.

Well. I had a fairly good idea of the latter. He'd told me to pack clothes, after all.

I left the office at five and, once home, took a shower and changed into a red dress I thought he might like. I did my hair and makeup. Debated on what to bring by way of sleepwear, though I suspected it was a clothing-optional sort of evening. I packed yoga pants and a tank top. Added all the necessities for doing myself up in the morning. Then grabbed a black suit and a white buttoned shirt from the closet. I was ready when Amano knocked on the door.

Thankfully, he was the silent, alert type who didn't bother with small talk. He seemed to grasp that was perfectly acceptable to me and didn't even try to engage beyond the polite, “Good evening, Miss DeMille.”

We wound our way up the very breathtaking Oak Creek Canyon, a dark setting because of overhanging trees and a cloudy night sky. Several back roads later—I would never actually be able to find this place on my own—we waited for the massive security gate to open and then pulled alongside a glass-and-wood-enclosed house on the creek. There wasn't a neighbor within two miles of us and the sound of rushing water mixed with the sway of leaves and their gentle scraping against one another, the windows, and the detached garage.

Dane stepped through the double doors and took my bag from Amano. “That'll be all for the evening. Thank you.”

Amano turned my way. “Take care.”

“You, too.”

Dane ushered me into his gorgeous home, lit by streaks of lightning in the clouds and candles in tall hurricane lamps.

“That's some dress,” he said as his arms slipped around my waist from behind and he left featherlight kisses along my throat that made me melt.

“I wasn't sure what to expect. You weren't very specific.”

“That's because all I could think about was you naked.”

I resisted the urge to turn in his arms and demand he take me to his bedroom. Though that desire wasn't easily dismissed.

I said, “You do intend to feed me, right?”

“Greek salad with chilled prawns already prepared. Chef D'Angelo says it's your favorite.”

“Yes, and he toys with me by not making it a regular menu item. Total hit or miss as to when it's available. Makes me crazy.”

Dane chuckled sexily. “Consider it on the menu whenever
you
want it.”

“Thank you.” A nice perk that came with being in the boss's bed.

He directed me to a great room, with a tall fireplace at one end and a wall of floor-to-ceiling bookcases at the other end, with a sliding ladder attached to a metal railing. Tables, chairs, sofas, and coffee tables were scattered in between. The enormous windows and glass doors showcased the forest and creek beyond a vast patio. All amazingly beautiful.

BOOK: Burned Deep
5.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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