ROMAN ENJOYED THE hell out of the day. The weird tension riding Allie disappeared once they got into the water, and they spent several hours exploring the reef and then floating in the waves. By the time the boat dropped them back to the island, she was tucked comfortably under his arm and chatting animatedly with Becka. Roman kept expecting her friend to say...something...about their arrangement, but Becka seemed content to hang out as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
He drove them both back to their villa and left the women there. Though he wanted to take Allie back to his place, he recognized that she needed a little space.
Frankly, he could use a little space himself.
Roman had never been more conflicted in his life. He liked Allie. He wanted to see her succeed. Fuck, he just flat-out wanted her. But she was right this morning. There was a lot more to take into account than what they’d experienced together on West Island.
With that in mind, he strode into his villa and sat down with the papers he’d stashed there the day before. As much as Roman wanted Allie to give him the information voluntarily, the truth of the matter was that she was blocking him. She had her reasons for not wanting to open up, and he respected that, but this wasn’t about his growing feelings for her—it was business.
He had to separate the two.
He couldn’t afford not to.
She needed his help. She just didn’t know it yet. If he let her wait until she was comfortable talking about this stuff with him—if that ever happened—the opportunity would pass and she could lose everything.
He needed to know what he’d missed about that damn gym, and he needed to know now. Stomping down on the guilt that tried to dissuade him, Roman sat down and fanned out the papers. He started at the beginning—with Allie and her family.
A story that he’d seen played out before. Alcoholic father. A mother who fled with her child when the abuse transferred to her daughter. A hard life lived, but which didn’t stop Allie from graduating from college with honors and very little student debt. She’d worked her ass off to get Transcend up and running with money her mother had left her when the woman passed away three years ago. The shelter was set up under a nonprofit bearing Allie’s mother’s name.
But a successful nonprofit took a lot of work and shmoozing, and Allie obviously didn’t have a taste for it. It didn’t bring in enough to cover the costs, so she’d been draining the income generated by the gym—and her own personal savings.
Roman shook his head. It was an easy fix. Pass off the nonprofit to someone else, franchise Transcend and things would even out—and transfer from red back into the black.
So why was she so resistant to the idea?
Once he knew the answer to that, he’d know how to play things. He sighed. Except it isn’t that simple. This wasn’t a prospective client he could manipulate into doing what he wanted without remorse. This was Allie. He didn’t want to hurt her, even if it was ultimately for her own good. He wanted her to trust him—to let him help her.
He kept reading. Her abusive father was horrible, but it didn’t explain why she was so determined to do this alone. The woman Roman had started to get to know over the last couple days was strong and smart, but not a control freak like he’d expected. That was the only thing that would explain her insistence on not allowing the investor he represented to buy into the company.
Frustrated, Roman flipped through the papers again. Nothing, and he’d essentially breached her trust by doing this search to begin with. Fuck. He’d done the basic background on her when he first found the business, but Allie Landers kept her nose clean and, aside from the business’s financial records and her school history, he hadn’t dug deeper before.
He wished he hadn’t now, either.
Roman threw the papers back into the folder and tucked it into a drawer under the kitchen counter. There was no easy answer here. He’d promised that they would leave business in New York, but the only way he could figure out what was stopping her was to talk to her... Some fucking businessman he was. He’d painted himself into one hell of a corner with this.
Enjoying their time together was the only option. If he tried to push her, she’d call an end to the whole thing. Allie didn’t care about the pending deadline, since she had no interest in selling her business.
Which was a problem, because the whole damn ship was sinking. She’d be underwater inside of six months and then she’d lose everything. If she would just trust him, he could take care of everything. That was the problem, though. Roman knew he wanted what was best for the gym and Allie, but Allie didn’t know that. It didn’t matter how many different ways he tried to tell her, the truth was that he hadn’t done anything to earn her trust, and it was doubtful he’d manage that feat sometime in the next four days.
Roman sat there and contemplated it for nearly an hour, no closer to finding a solution by that point than he had been when he’d first started thinking about it.
What the fuck am I going to do?
* * *
Come to dinner with me. Dress to the nines.
Allie looked at the masculine scrawl on the note that had been delivered to their villa with the snack Becka had ordered. She felt a stupid grin pulling at the edges of her lips and tried to fight it. A single note from Roman shouldn’t be a highlight of her day—especially after the glory that was snorkeling off the coast of the island—but her heartbeat kicked up a notch knowing that he was thinking about her...and planning something for tonight.
“He sent you another note, didn’t he?” Becka stepped out of her room, wearing a wrap dress that showed off her legs and lean frame. She’d pinned her blue hair up into a style that could only be described as shabby chic. And she was grinning like the cat who’d eaten the canary. “I don’t know if that’s adorable beyond measure or cheesy as hell.”
“Both.” She tried to sound unimpressed, but the stupid smile wouldn’t go away. “It’s lame.”
“It is not lame. He’s smitten.” Becka eyed her. “You’re both smitten.”
“I can’t be smitten with Roman Bassani. We only have a few days left and then it’s back to being enemies again.” The thought dimmed her smile like nothing else had been able to. It was strange to think a time would come when she and Roman would be adversaries, but there was no real alternative. He wanted her gym. She would never give it up. End of story—end of them. Nothing that happened while they were on the island would change that.
Becka poked at the snacks that had been delivered and chose a selection of fruit. “You know he has a client who wants to invest in Transcend. Do you know why?”
“For the same reason all the other investors came around when they realized I wasn’t making ends meet as well as I would have liked. They think they can jump on the trendy fitness-nutrition combo and franchise it. They don’t care about the shelter—and they’d probably cut it out completely if they had control. It’s a money pit, after all, and it’s not like they’re invested in any of those women’s futures.” Allie shook her head sharply. “No. I can’t risk it. Business isn’t so bad that we have to give in to the kind of offer Roman and people like him are bringing us. We’re doing just fine.” Not really fine at all. She should have organized a fund-raiser or something for the shelter, but she was so busy running the gym that the thought of adding anything else to her plate was too much to deal with. So she’d put it off.
She was regretting it now.
Too little, too late.
“How do you know?”
She pulled herself back into the present. “What?”
“How do you know what Roman has planned for Transcend?” Becka popped a piece of pineapple into her mouth. “Have you talked about it?”
“No. And we’re not going to.” At her friend’s incredulous look, she glared. “You wanted me to have hot vacation sex, and hot vacation sex includes not talking about work. That’s the only condition Roman and I put on this thing, so hell if I’m going to break the rules. It’s just going to end in another fight, and this one we might not be able to screw our way out of.” She ran her hand over her face. “What am I doing? This whole thing was a mistake.”
Becka jumped to her feet. “Oh, no, you don’t! I’m sorry I pushed buttons. I thought I was just asking a question.” She hurried to Allie and guided her toward her own room. “Go get ready. Then get your ass back in here and have a shot with me for sure mutual courage. Then we’ll never speak of this again—at least for the next few days.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m the one acting batty.” She paused just inside her doorway. “I like him.”
“I know you do, honey.”
She didn’t know if that was comforting or worrisome, so she didn’t comment on it. She just gently shut the door between them and dug through her suitcase for something that would be qualified as dressing to the nines. She’d packed a couple nice dresses, just in case, and she laid them both out on her mostly unused bed. One was a simple little black dress that was flowy and showed her cleavage to perfection. The other was a two-piece with a stretchy nude pencil skirt and a cropped bustier top that showed a sliver of skin between them. Normally for something resembling a first date, she’d play it safe with the LBD and leave the trendier choice for once she’d figured out if the guy was a douche or not.
But she already knew what Roman was—and what he thought of her.
Allie’s grin reappeared. The cropped top and skirt it was.
She took extra time getting ready, styling her hair in perfect beach waves and keeping her makeup light enough that it wouldn’t melt off her face the second she left the villa—or once she and Roman got to whatever he had planned for dessert. She finished off the look with her strappy wedge sandals. With their three-inch heel, she’d be almost as tall as him, and the idea pleased her more than it probably should have. Roman’s masculinity wasn’t so fragile that he needed her to cut herself down to make him feel better. It was one of the things she liked about him.
I like a lot of things about him.
Stop it.
Becka grinned when Allie walked back into the main area of the villa. “Ooooh, someone has their seductive panties on tonight.”
“I’m not wearing any.”
Her friend laughed. “Which just serves to support my point. After that little show on the boat earlier, if he doesn’t fall on you like a starving man the second he sees you, I’ll eat my shoe.”
Allie wasn’t prepared to take Roman’s response to seeing her—whatever it would be—for granted, so she just shook her head and started for the exit. “See you in the morning?”
“As long as by morning you mean after eleven.” Becka set her fork and plate in the sink. “Luke is meeting me here after his shift, and I plan to rock him all night long.”
“You like this guy?”
Becka shrugged. “I like parts of him. He doesn’t have the most stimulating of personalities, but he’s got a monster cock and magic hands, so he’s perfect for the time and place.” Her smile was sunny but didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You know me—I don’t do that messy emotional bullshit. I like my life how it is. I don’t have time for some needy dude expecting me to bend over backward to rearrange it for him.”
There was a story there, but in all the years Allie had known Becka, she’d never got to the heart of it. Despite her friend’s carefree spirit, Becka had a hard line when it came to anything resembling a relationship. She liked to laugh away the serious stuff whenever they got close to talking about it, and Allie respected the unspoken request to not bring it up.
Then again, Allie hadn’t done more than casually date in that time, either, so she wasn’t one to talk.
“Shots!” Becka poured vodka into two glasses and passed one over. “To a night of wall-banging sex and living our vacation to the fullest.”
They clinked glasses. “Tomorrow, why don’t we do something with just us?” Allie suggested.
“Sure...as long as you aren’t using me as a shield against Roman.” Becka downed her shot without a grimace. “If you want to spend the rest of this trip with him, then you should. I’m more than capable of keeping myself occupied, and it’s not like we don’t spend more time with each other in New York than we do with anyone else in our lives.”
There was no arguing that, but... She took her shot, closing her eyes as the alcohol burned its way down her throat and created a comforting warmth in her stomach. “I don’t want to abandon you.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to be that close with Roman, either. It was already hard to keep the boundaries in her head between them—between the island and New York, between the present and the inevitable future. Getting to know him better would make it worse.
Except...
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do that.” Becka plucked the shot glass from her hand. “Now get out of here. Five bucks says he bangs you right there on the patio.”
“You really need to stop making bets about how quickly Roman and I get to banging.” But she laughed all the same. She could shelve all her worries about what the future held—at least for a few more days.
Allie would figure out the rest when she got back to New York.