She laughed then, the sound as sultry and evocative in its richness and depth as the first sip of the finest scotch rolling across the palate. Her laughter whipped through him, muddying his thoughts and fogging his awareness of everything but her.
“You’re staring,” she murmured.
“So I am.”
The woman’s brows rose slightly. “So...stop?”
“I will.”
“When?”
Liam lifted one shoulder in a partial shrug. “When I’m done looking.”
Turning in her seat, she glanced out the window. “The scenery is beautiful.”
“It certainly is,” Liam murmured. She twisted back around and drew a breath, certainly to deliver a sharp rebuttal, but Liam wasn’t looking at her—he was staring at the lush jungle landscape outside.
The faint flush that spread across her exposed décolletage and crept up her neck was quite adorable, though he doubted she’d agree with his assessment. In his experience, few women were keen on being considered cute, and those that favored the more juvenile assessment weren’t the type he desired. But this woman—with her singular focus, quick wit and physical appeal—was exactly the type to pique his interests.
With her staying at the same resort, their paths were certain to cross.
Liam smiled.
Perhaps this trip wouldn’t be such a chore after all.
CHAPTER TWO
THEDRIVERSPEDup to the resort’s elegant porte cochere and stopped with enough force that the van bounced back and forth on its shocks like a child’s rocking horse. When Ella could convince herself they had truly stopped, she mentally logged the travel time in case the wedding guests wanted to know...or take a cab. She peeled her fingers from her armrests. Her muscles suffered mild rigor as she attempted to move toward the open door. That meant she had to accept the hand offered to help her down. Only it wasn’t the driver. Her fellow passenger, the stranger she found all too alluring, had quickly and quietly exited and then, quite unexpectedly, rounded the shuttle and waited by her door. She paused.
He waited.
Chastising herself for hesitating, she took his hand and stepped out of the vehicle. After all, the gesture was nothing but a courtesy. Yes, he’d clearly been flirting earlier, but it had been innocent. Or innocent enough. The problem was that she’d wanted to flirt back. And flirty banter led to things she’d forbidden herself this trip, things like a tryst that could call her professionalism into question. It was just...
She glanced at him and found him staring at her unabashedly.
Damn it.
She turned her back on him, reaffirming her decision to avoid personal entertainment. Men like him were few and far between, and thank God for it. He was the exact type of distraction she couldn’t afford. Not on this trip. Not when her future hinged on the success of this job.
Stepping forward, she returned the doorman’s smile as he ushered her into the air-conditioned lobby. “Welcome to the Royal Crescent. Your luggage has been tagged. Once you’ve checked in, a valet will deliver your bags to your room.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Ella sighed as cool air swept over her bare arms and legs. Thank God for air-conditioning.
The resort seemed classy and sophisticated, giving an impression of subtle but irrefutable wealth and luxuries both small and large. A gentleman wearing all white and bearing a tray of champagne approached, offering her a glass. A single strawberry churned up bubbles as it gently bounced about the glass bottom.
She sipped and sighed again. Chilled to perfection, the dry bite was ideal with the fruit’s sweet tartness.
This place was going to be the perfect backdrop for the wedding Ella had planned.
Scanning the lobby, her gaze landed on the concierge desk and the three people staffing it. The obvious leader of the group, a uniformed man who appeared to be in his fifties, rose and headed her way with a grin. He stopped and said something in the ear of the waiter bearing the champagne. The younger man nodded and stepped to Ella’s left, proffering a glass to the person behind her, a person she didn’t need to see in order to identify.
Heat—hisheat—spread across her back and chased away the air’s artificial chill. Her muscles, finally relaxing after the harried trip, became fluid, languid even. The urge to close the distance between them, to move back into what she knew was a solid torso, to feel the strength in the hands and arms that had effectively pinned her to her seat, had her instinctively shifting her weight onto her heels.
What the hell?
Sure, she believed in instant and undeniable attraction. Some called it chemistry. But her reaction to this total stranger was far beyond anything she’d ever experienced, and she didn’t like it. At all. It pushed against her self-control with the wildly rapid, incessantly repetitive tap-tap-tap of a crack-addled woodpecker.