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The Revenge Game (The Player's Pact) Page 7


  But that was all water under the bridge now. Still, maybe they could become friendly competitors instead of enemies. This time with him put so much on the line, but if things worked out, the effort could prove worth it.

  One thing was for sure—she couldn’t think clearly with him sleeping next to her, so she climbed out of bed and headed into the living area of the cabin. Dishes still sat in the sink from the dinner they’d cooked. He’d grilled the steaks while she’d baked some potatoes and made a salad. Tomorrow, she’d take him to the restaurant kitchen, where she could show him some of her mad culinary skills.

  The breeze off the cove might be cool, so she grabbed a shawl before going outside. Here, the moon bathed the entire scene in magic—silvering the tops of the gentle waves as they hit the beach and making the opposite shore seem so close she could reach out and touch it. She hadn’t even seen the cove before she’d settled on this island to build her resort. When she had discovered this place, she’d decided immediately to make it the most exclusive part of Savvy. People who’d stay here would leave with memories they wouldn’t be able to recreate anywhere else. And they’d come back.

  Gathering the shawl around her shoulders, she took a seat on the bottom step of the porch. How ridiculous, even comedic, that she’d ended up here. She’d been so painfully sheltered. Private schools with a private car to take her back and forth. Then a small women’s college, not far from her father’s home. Naturally shy, she’d had few friends and virtually no boyfriends until Adam had shown up that summer.

  Her mother had passed away when Nicole was three, and she’d had four stepmothers afterward, for varying amounts of time. Most of them had ignored her. Louise, number two, had tried to become close, but that marriage had lasted less than a year.

  Vivian—just thinking of the woman made Nicole shudder. They’d annoyed each other from the first day, and Vivian had tried to have her sent off to boarding school. Unfortunately, Vivian had ended up with stock in Westmore Hotels as part of the divorce settlement, and so Nicole’s father had suspected she’d plotted with Adam to ruin the company. No matter what, Nicole couldn’t make herself believe that was true. Adam could never be that cruel.

  Yeah, living in that big house hadn’t been easy. The servants had come and gone, too. The only ones who took any notice of Nicole hadn’t stayed long. At least Annie had lasted long enough to teach her how to cook.

  And then there had been Adam. Someone who noticed her. Liked her. Cared about her feelings. He’d taught her so much, especially about the workings of her own body. How she’d loved him. But he’d left her like everyone else.

  Then, she’d gone to work for her father. But just two years ago, he’d died suddenly of a heart attack and left control of his company to her, along with a note begging her to keep it going.

  The emptiness had become too much for her to bear after his death. It had grown inside her steadily from all her losses—first of her mother, whom she barely remembered, to Louise, who might have filled the void if she’d lasted long enough. Every departure of a staff member who’d cared for her—Annie, the cook, and Joe, the gardener—added to it. Adam had broken her heart, but even then, she’d had someone—her father. But then he left her, too.

  She’d had to fight the nothingness, the total lack of feeling and joy, to save Westmore Hotels. She’d managed somehow, and she’d continue if it killed her. And if she managed to make a success of the business, she might try to build more of a life for herself.

  Her father had been difficult. He might have been, as Adam put it, a perfect bastard, but he was hers. Now his company was all she had left of him, and she had to protect it from the only man she’d ever loved. Talk about irony.

  The screen door opened behind her. “Here you are.”

  She turned and found Adam standing there. Who else? He wore nothing but his pajama bottoms.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said.

  “Nope. I just rolled over, and you weren’t there,” he said.

  “Sorry.”

  He sat on the step above her and wrapped himself all around her—his legs on either side of her and his arms around her ribs—more of the intimacy she couldn’t have shared with him in their life before.

  “So, what do you think of Savvy so far?” she asked.

  “In what sense?”

  “I’m going for a very particular niche in the market—people who want excitement, luxury, and privacy, and can pay for it.”

  “You have the luxury part down.”

  “Wait until I show you the rest tomorrow.” She turned her head and almost smacked her face against his. The moonlight did wonders for the angles and planes of his features, and now it made his eyes gleam, too.

  She turned her gaze away before she turned into a puddle of admiration and lust. “I’ve just hired one of Europe’s hottest celebrity chefs. When I announce he’s on staff, I’ll land in every media market. Everyone will know about Savvy before I have to spend a dime on advertising.”

  “So, we’re talking shop now?”

  “I guess so.”

  He sighed. “The problem, Nicole, is that luxury is your father’s business model, and it isn’t doing very well.”

  “Savvy isn’t going to be old and stodgy.”

  “Baby, I’m afraid your main building is the definition of stodgy,” he said. “Granite? Really?”

  “We get hurricanes here. Granite won’t collapse. Neither will the hurricane-proof windows I’ve installed.”

  “All right. Maybe I’m wrong.”

  He didn’t say that because he meant it, though. He was only trying to placate her, like so many other people in the business, even in her father’s company. Men, of course. All her life, someone had taken care of her. First her father. Then, when she’d started working in his company, the men who’d been there before her had tried to “help” her, as if she was a child. She still relied on one of them—her dear friend, Peter Baxter. She would always be grateful to him for his help when she’d so desperately needed it, but now, she was ready to find her own identity and make her own mark. Savvy would do that for her.

  “What I’m trying to say is that you and I are fulfilling different customer dreams. Your resorts are more about international hotspots. Savvy still offers excitement, but it’s more off the beaten path. People who need privacy will be able to find it here.”

  “I suppose.”

  “We’re not in competition with each other,” she said.

  “You’re wrong there,” he said. “As long as we’re in the same business, we’re competing.”

  “You always see things as a fight.”

  “Because that’s how life is,” he said.

  How little she knew him, really. They’d only spent that summer together, and much of that time, they’d spent making out. He’d been so excited about being admitted to one of the best business schools in the country, and she’d been happy for him. Had he hardened into the cutthroat executive after that, or had the hardness been in him from the beginning?

  “I’m going to convince you we can be friendly competitors,” she said.

  “Contradiction in terms. There is no such thing as friendly competitors.”

  “We can share a clientele. Sometimes they’ll want flash and excitement, like you provide at Finesse and Lit. Sometimes they’ll want to get away from the world and enjoy beauty like…” She gestured toward the cove. “…like this.”

  “I don’t want to argue with you.”

  Which meant he didn’t agree. Cursed man. Why couldn’t he see reason?

  She would impress him tomorrow. He might consider the outside of her resort stodgy, but there was plenty inside to appeal to a young audience—a smart nightclub where they’d showcase the latest hot performers. Great shopping. Trendy food. She even had a casino ship that would go out to sea, where gambling was legal. But she wouldn’t convince him of any of that tonight.

  “I guess that’s enough moon gazing for one night.” She
rose and turned around. He continued sitting on the step, now staring up at her.

  He took her hands in his. “I don’t mean to hurt you, Nicole.”

  “No, of course you don’t.” That came out with a hint of sarcasm. She hadn’t intended that, but honestly…he’d done little but hurt her ever since he’d left her father’s house. First by not returning for her, and then by going after her company.

  He got the message, because his features hardened. “I’m only sharing the reality of the business.”

  “You have your version of reality,” she said. “That doesn’t make it right.”

  “I’ve been in this business longer than you have.”

  “And my father was in the business before you were born.”

  He rose, too. “Let’s stop here before we say something we’ll regret.”

  “Good idea.” She walked around him to the screen door. “Are you coming in?”

  “Not quite yet. Maybe I haven’t had enough moonlight.”

  Chapter Five

  Adam glanced at his phone. This call could be trouble. He could duck Vivian, his silent partner, for a little while, but she’d call again. With Nicole in the shower, he had the next few minutes alone, so he might as well talk now. But to be on the safe side, he went out onto the porch of the cabin so she had no way of overhearing what he was saying.

  “Vivian,” he said.

  “Hello, darling. How are you?”

  He rubbed his forehead. He’d tried everything he could think of to stop her from using endearments, to no avail. He’d never given her any reason to believe he wanted a relationship with her, and she had no interest in his health.

  “I’m fine,” he answered. “How are you?”

  “Just wonderful,” she answered in her faux semi-British accent. “But I am a bit curious… Where are you, darling?”

  “I had to leave suddenly on business.” That wasn’t a complete lie. He had left suddenly, and this was business, more or less. If he had some really great sex on his own time, no one else needed to know the details.

  “I know that, Adam. The office told me as much,” she said. “But where are you?”

  “Scouting out the competitor.” Also true.

  Silence at her end for several long seconds. “Someone spotted you leaving that wedding reception with Nicole Westmore.”

  “Great. Is it in the tabloids?”

  “So, then, it’s true.”

  “How did you find out, Vivian?” he asked.

  “A friend,” she said. “And no, it’s not in the tabloids.”

  At least he was getting a break on that. He glanced through the screen door to make sure Nicole hadn’t come into the living area of the cabin. So far, his luck had held.

  “I ran into Nicole at the reception,” he said. “We didn’t come together.”

  “But you did leave together.”

  “Why do you care?” Because the two women hated each other. When Vivian had been married to Nicole’s father, she’d campaigned constantly for Maurice to ship Nicole off to a private school in Europe so she could have Maurice to herself. Nicole had once overheard Vivian referring to her as “that brat.”

  While he’d still fumed over Nicole becoming engaged instead of waiting for him, Adam had naturally agreed to accept Vivian’s money to start his own company. He’d been struggling with his first hotel—a tiny, boutique place in Manhattan. He’d had great ideas but not enough capital to put them into motion.

  Vivian had heard an earful about that upstart kid, Adam Morrow, from Maurice when she’d been married to him, so when she’d seen a picture of Adam in a personality magazine—and matched it to one she’d often seen in Nicole’s bedroom—she’d tracked him down and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Not that he would have hesitated to team up with someone who hated Maurice as much as he did. But if he’d known then what he knew about Vivian now—that she was a pest and probably involved in illegal insider trading—he sure as hell would have refused.

  Instead, she’d become his silent partner. Vivian would view this trip as a betrayal, thinking he was sleeping with the enemy. She wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

  “Nicole may seem like a sweet girl,” Vivian said. “But is she truly trustworthy?”

  “I don’t have to trust her for anything. We’re not involved.”

  “But you’re with her, and you still haven’t told me where.”

  “For now, that’s confidential. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” Which most likely would be never.

  “I don’t like you keeping secrets from me. We’re partners. Do I have to remind you I own a large share of Morrow Properties?”

  “What I’m doing is good for the company.” Nicole would be out of the shower by now and getting dressed. Maybe she was putting on her makeup and would appear at any moment. He had to end this call now.

  “She led you down the garden path once before,” Vivian said. “I don’t want that to happen again.”

  “I was a kid then. I won’t be burned twice.”

  “You and your friends.” She laughed and tsked a couple of times. “The three of you cut a wide swath. Very wise, Adam.”

  “There, you see?” he said. “All is well.”

  “You haven’t given up on what we’ve planned, I hope.”

  “Not at all.” He might make some sort of truce with Nicole. Maybe. But he’d still get back at the old bastard who’d separated them. “In fact, I’m discovering useful information.”

  “Don’t stay away from the office for too long,” she said. “We need you here, darling.”

  “Right. Talk to you then.” He ended the call just as he heard the screen door open behind him.

  “Who was that?” Nicole asked.

  “Hm?” The sight of her drove anything else out of his mind. She was wearing shorts and a tube top that showed off the swells of her breasts. No doubt if she turned around, he’d get a good look at her firm, round ass, too. Damn, but she gave him such fantasies. Of course, she’d filled one of them the day before with that doggy-style pose, inviting him to do whatever he’d wanted.

  “On the phone,” she said. “Who was it?”

  “Uh…the office.”

  “Did I hear you say something about useful information?”

  “The competitor is showing me her best stuff,” he answered.

  “Not the best yet. In a few minutes, I’ll take you to the restaurant kitchen.” She crooked her finger. “Come on.”

  When she did that…when she looked like this…he’d follow her anywhere.

  They climbed in the golf cart, this time with him in the driver’s seat, and they took off up the path to the main complex.

  The day was perfect, warm and sunny. As they left the cove, the ocean came into view. It was a perfect blue, cresting in foamy waves that crashed against the white-sand beach.

  “Good for swimming here?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  “No dangerous currents, sharks, stinging jellyfish?”

  She smiled. “I don’t suppose we can guarantee we’ll never have sharks or jellyfish, but we put up a net to discourage them. And no, there’s no dangerous current, either.”

  “And you’ve fortified everything against hurricanes.”

  “Even the cell tower.”

  Perfect. All of it too perfect for his purposes. Still, if she didn’t do something about the stodginess of the main building, no amount of luxury would make this place turn a profit.

  “The other side of the island has a great beach for surfing. The ocean floor makes for big waves,” she said.

  They passed a pavilion of sorts, with a dance floor with a stage on one end, surrounded by tables, all under a roof that resembled thatch. Barbecue pits and a full bar stood off to one side.

  “My customers can party there from five until the wee hours,” she said. “It’s far enough from the guest rooms that noise won’t be a problem.”

  He glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes. “
Not unlike what I have at my resort in Palm Springs.”

  “I’m not above stealing a good idea.” She pointed. “You’ll want to drive around the other side of the building.”

  The main structure was imposing and…as she’d pointed out…hurricane-proof. If she failed, it would turn into a huge white elephant. He drove around and parked in front of the rear entrance. Raised garden beds lined the entire back of the building—most of them empty of plants.

  “Once my chef gets here, he can decide what he wants to grow.” She climbed out of the cart. “Herbs and tomatoes at least.”

  “Tomatoes?”

  She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at him. “You’ve never had a homegrown tomato?”

  “Can’t say I have.”

  “You’ve missed the greatest food in the entire world.” She went to an undecorated door and put her keycard against the reader next to it. Then she tugged the door open. He held it for her as she went inside and hung back long enough to check out her rear. It was every bit as lush as he’d remembered it from the night before. Maybe he’d think of a way to get her out of those shorts before they left the kitchen.

  She looked over her shoulder and caught him staring. Busted. She knew what her body did to him. Only she could turn his brain into mush and his sex into steel with a look. And she knew it.

  He entered and walked with her along a corridor to the hotel kitchen. It appeared to be state-of-the-art, with huge butcher block workstations and gas ranges. An impressive collection of gleaming pots hung within easy reach. One corner even held a sous vide unit for the slow cooking that had become the rage of late.

  He couldn’t help but admire it all as he stood with his hands on his hips, checking things out.