Chapter Ten - Ivy
“Mr. Delaney wants you to go back to your cabana, unpack, and then get dinner and charge it to the room.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Rockwell. That’s what he said. I don’t know any more than that. He wants another meeting with you tomorrow.”
“Another meeting?” I whisper to myself.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“OK.” I sigh. “Thank you.” I grab the handle of my carry-on bag and go back out the lobby, past the pool, and into the little secluded residence section. It’s not quite dark yet, but the sun is low in the sky and the unbearable heat is finally starting to fade.
When I pass the private pool I think of the swimsuit I bought. I left it in the pretty bag, sitting on a chair in the cabana. I couldn’t make myself take that suit. I don’t want to take anything from these people. But Nolan Delaney said to stay. What can I do about it? He’s the one with the jet. If he doesn’t call it to take me home, then I’m stuck doing his bidding.
But another meeting is a good sign. I bite my lip as I think what it might mean.
What it might mean, Ivy Rockwell, is that he knows you’re on to something, regardless of what Claudette says. I tiptoe past her bungalow, but I don’t think she’s in there because the curtains are open and I can see inside.
When I get inside I unpack my clothes and change into a yellow sundress and a pair of flip flops. I pull my hair up in a ponytail and wash my face, relieved to be rid of the day’s makeup.
I should call Nora and tell her everything. Tell her what a supercunt Claudette is. Tell her how weird the infamous Mr. Romantic is.
But she will keep me on the phone for hours and my stomach is rumbling. That salad this afternoon wasn’t enough to satisfy me through the night.
Besides, Nora will see right through me and start asking about how hot Nolan is. And that’s not something I can deny.
He is damn hot.
And the way he stared at me when I finished my presentation, the way he saw me—like he was undressing me with his eyes. Imagining my body naked before him. Imagining me doing things to him. Or himself doing things to me.
Oh, shit. I suddenly remember the fake résumé. If he wants to talk to me again that will surely come up. I can’t lie about it. I’m not a very good liar.
But I can’t tell him, either. I have no explanation for it. And they won’t believe me, anyway. They will say I dropped it off at that job fair and that’s how that other guy, Mr. Corporate, got a hold of it.
Of course someone with that kind of academic history would be of interest to a headhunter, right? It makes me out to be some kind of business-school prodigy.
I’m going to sit on that little detail for now. Even though Mr. Delaney asked for another meeting tomorrow, I’m probably still on the next jet out of here.
Might as well get some dinner. Bossy Mr. Romantic practically ordered me to.
I open the door and come face to face with the deviant himself.
“Oh,” I say, stepping back. “You startled me.”
Nolan notes my change of clothes with an appreciative glance. The sundress isn’t overly short, but it’s a sundress. It stops mid-thigh and the top has a low-cut v that shows more cleavage than I’m comfortable with, now that his green eyes are taking me in.
“Going to dinner, Miss Rockwell?”
“Yes,” I say with hesitation. Why is he here? And now that he is, I begin to notice what he’s wearing as well.
Gone is the suit. Replaced by faded jeans that hug his muscular legs and… well, let’s just say there’s a healthy bulge right where you’d expect said bulge to be. I stare at it, unable to stop. Is he hard? Or is that just… I look up and find him smiling at me. Oh, my God. He caught me staring at his dick. And then, before I can even be properly embarrassed, I notice what else he’s wearing. A white cotton dress shirt, with only the bottom few buttons buttoned up, and nothing else.
His nipples are beautiful.
I did it again. And when I find his handsome face I get lost in the five o’clock shadow of his strong, square jaw.
His smile becomes a laugh. “Good.” And then he takes my hand, places it on his elbow like he wants me to hold on to him, and says, “I’ll walk you.”
I’m speechless. I have no idea what to do other than grab hold of his arm and walk with him as he steps forward.
“I’m sorry we didn’t hire you, Ivy. But there’s a very good reason for it.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m looking straight ahead, so he can’t see them. “Let me guess. The reason is because your sister is a bitch?”
Nolan sighs.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry. I understand. I’m not really qualified for the position and I knew that when I accepted the invitation. I only came for the ride in the private jet and a chance to meet the infamous Mr. Romantic.”
“Hmmm,” he says. And even though I can’t see him, I know that little hmmm came with a smile. “What do you think so far? Do I live up to the hype?”
“Not really.”
“No?” He chuckles as we walk past the pool. “Why not?”
The whole thing becomes surreal for me in that moment. The emptiness of the resort. The heat and the sun. I am two thousand miles from home and I’m clutching Mr. Romantic’s elbow like we are lovers taking an evening stroll.
“You’re a little bit quiet so far.”
“Is that right?”
“Your sister is the bigger personality. I’m surprised she wasn’t accused of something inappropriate in college. I think she has it in her.”
Nolan laughs. “That’s kind of true. She’s a handful to most, but she’s been good to me. She’s very protective.”
“She called you dangerous.”
“What?” He stops walking and looks down at me. “When?”
“Today. She told me to stay away from you. Didn’t you know that?”
“What exactly did she tell you?” His mood has changed. Not a lot, but there’s an edge to his words.
“She said something like…” I struggle to remember her exact words, but can’t. I shouldn’t have said anything. He’ll probably confront her and use me as an example.
“Like?” Nolan pushes.
“You’re not romantic. Something like that. They called you Mr. Romantic when all that stuff happened because it was a joke.”
“And the dangerous part?” His words are low and when I look up at him, the easygoing expression has changed into something else.
“I don’t know why she said it. She was telling me to stay away from you all day. And I was angry that she was so dismissive of me. She said I was here by mistake. So I told her I was going to do my best to get the job anyway. And while I agree those men you hired are far more qualified, it was not fair of her to dismiss me so quickly. I’m not as innocent and inexperienced as I look, Mr. Delaney. I have ideas and I’m smart. Hiring everyone in the applicant pool but me was about the most humiliating thing I’ve ever experienced.”
Nolan continues our walk, silent for a few seconds. “You’re lucky.”
“I am?” I ask, a small laugh escaping. “How so?”
“You’re lucky that you’ve never been humiliated the way I have.”
Oh, shit. Way to go, Ivy.
“Do you think I’m dangerous?” Nolan asks, staring down at me in that way he does.
It makes me uneasy. “Maybe.”
“You’re willing to take that chance?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, good,” Nolan says. “Let’s have a nice dinner and I’ll tell you why I sent Claudette away and kept you here against her wishes.”
He did what?
My heart starts to beat faster. Why would he do that? Maybe Claudette was right to warn me? There’s hardly anyone here at the resort. Especially now that all the construction people have left for the day. The main pool is empty when we pass, and even the desk clerks are missing when we enter the lobby.
The dining room has two couples eating dinner and Nolan greets them by name as he leads me to the rear part of the restaurant. Back into a dimly lit room with a single table, white linen tablecloth flowing over the sides. Candle glowing in the center. Set for two.
“This is… unexpected.” My mind is filled with possibilities. And even though I came here with the intention of getting his full attention, possibly losing my virginity to him—and even though I’ve talked myself into feeling ready to take on a man like him, both professionally and personally—I am not excited. I am suddenly scared.
There’s not enough people. There’s not enough noise. There’s not enough of anything to make me forget just who I’m having dinner with.
Mr. Romantic. A man accused of raping a woman ten years ago. A man who was not prosecuted for that crime because the woman died before she could testify. A man who might be guilty.
Nolan pulls out a chair and waits for me to sit, sliding it in perfectly the way a gentleman does, before taking his seat across from me. “I like the unexpected, Miss Rockwell. Get used to it.”
I am in way over my head.