“And I have a photo shoot to run, by myself. My to-do list would make you cry. And I have to squeeze in time to get the condo set up, convince the department store to increase their orders, sweet talk an awards show into using our designs for a skit they’re doing, and a million other things.”
He leveled his gaze at her, remembering how he would use work as an excuse, a shield to protect himself from disappointment. Had he been as transparent?
“I told you we are better as friends.”
“And when I disagreed you took me for a ride and then couldn’t keep your eyes off me. Sweetheart, there are benefits to friendship, and with so much to do winding you up, you deserve to get unraveled. As often as possible.”
“Not going to happen.” She stepped closer and flattened her palm against his chest. Her touch sent electricity surging along his nerves, a bolt of intensity that kindled the fire of yearning left smoldering from last night.
He leaned down and brought his lips to her ear and the warm scent of honeysuckle filled his lungs. “I’ll have you, in every way possible.”
She pushed at his chest and took a step back. “Harm,
sweetheart
, I’m a pretty great friend. That’s all I have on offer.”
Before she could say more, half a dozen models wandered in with a laundry list of complaints. He hung back, watching as she soothed the ruffled feathers and laid out her plan for the day.
She made the packed agenda sound like a play date. Her animated gestures and playfulness had the room laughing. She was in her element, positively glowing as her eyes danced with glee. Pride swelled in his chest. She was living her dream, a passion she’d turned into a reality. And it looked so sexy on her.
That same wild enthusiasm would carry over to the bedroom, of that he had no doubt. A woman with such blatant sensuality, such dedicated determination, might just be the best he’d ever had the pleasure of tangling the sheets with.
And he would. As she smiled at him across the room, he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make her his. Even wait for her.
Chapter Eleven
Holly’s hands were still shaking when she slammed the door. How dare those retail rodents spring this on her on the final day of the photo shoot? She’d been completely transparent about adding on a day of shooting for the Sassy V website, ensuring them the catalog shots would be complete first. And they turned her honesty against her, their bullying
suggestions
still ringing in her ears. She’d held it in for the last three hours, keeping up the professional spit and polish and she couldn’t contain it for another second.
She dropped her handbag and let loose a string of expletives her father would be ashamed of, punctuating her statements by throwing her sandals down Harm’s long hallway. Heat burst through her, forcing her to move. She jumped until her shins ached, shook her fists and screamed until her throat burned.
Harm leaned into the hallway from behind a wall, his brow creased with concern. If she weren’t so damned pissed, she might be embarrassed.
“I need vodka.” She marched down the hallway, past Harm and straight for the wet bar. Expensive crystal glasses lined the mirrored alcove but she didn’t see a single bottle. She pulled opened the fridge below, finding nothing but imported water. She pushed it closed and the crystal rattled.
“There’s some at the meeting house, but I find running more effective.”
She spun on her heel, her temper flaring at his daring grin. The last thing she needed was a lecture. She needed to calm the fuck down so she could run damage control. But if she got anyone on the phone right now, she’d wind up causing more trouble than she solved.
“Why don’t you
run
and get me some
vodka
then.”
“You should—”
“Oh, you don’t want to play with me right now. You will lose. I have taken down bigger men than you.”
“No, you haven’t.” He crossed his arms over his bare chest and stood up straight, reminding her of his muscled physique. One he probably honed surfing all day while she was working and dealing with bureaucratic bullshit.
“Oh, fuck you. You don’t know a thing about me.” She headed for her room, picking up her shoes along the way. Her phone sang from the entryway, but there was no way she was going to try and be civil now.
“You know what else works for burning this off?” Harm stood in her doorway, his doorway really, all chiseled and perfect.
Holly tossed her shoes at her trunk. “You’re not getting this, and I’m too pissed off to be polite. I am never sleeping with you. Like ever. You’re hot as fuck and I think you’re a pretty great guy, but you ditch the women you sleep with as fast as the used condom.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “You do use condoms, right?”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Then believe me when I say I’m not the droid you’re looking for. You want someone who wants the same recreational fuck, and I am not that girl.”
“No, you’re more the Princess Leia type, ready to kick ass and save herself. It’s hot.”
“Don’t be nice right now.” Her chest tightened and her eyes felt heavy, which just made her angrier. She was not going to be all girlie about this and cry. There was no crying in business. “Either get me some vodka or leave me alone.”
He walked in and sat on the made bed like he owned the place. Which he did.
Damn it
. She couldn’t toss him out on his perfectly shaped ass.
“What went wrong at the photo shoot?”
Oh no, this was not about her. She could handle herself. “I got all my shots, thank you very much. Everything. For the
Sassy V for Mendelssohn’s
line.”
“So…” He lay back against the pillows, crossing his arms behind his head.
“I can’t get my website shots. Apparently the asshats think using the same models will dilute the brand. Which is ridiculous because tomorrow’s images are lifestyle shots, not catalogue shots. And I’ve already paid for the extra day. They know that, and they know I don’t have the capital to do it again.
“They don’t want us to outgrow them, but they are in for a surprise. A department store line is just a part of what we’ll do. Those knob jockeys might have me by the balls now, but I’ll cut theirs off and make them pay me to get them back.”
“You can’t just say fuck ’em and take the shots anyway?”
“I could, and then Captain Fuckstick will lower the orders on the designs and all this promotion that we’ve built will be for nothing since there won’t be enough suits for people to buy. I’m going to flush that piece of shit. If he thinks he can pull this and we’ll resign a contract at the end of the term, he’s munching on a bag of dicks.”
“Should I warn him? Because I believe you now. If I were in the fashion industry, you’d roll right over me.”
“Damn straight.” Holly plopped down on the bed. “I should have seen this coming. I thought I was in the clear because they can’t legally tell me not to do it. But I never expected them to leverage their own sales. I never thought they’d play on so many different levels of stupid. I thought they were in this with us.
“When we made the agreement, we were to deliver twenty designs and they’d choose ten to put into production. But the six-string bikini was being used for Kimberly’s calendar, and I told them all the product placement I was angling for and they took all twenty. We thought it was a good thing. But half the availability of twice the designs is a recipe for frustration.”
“Sweetheart, I understood none of that.”
“Vodka would understand.” She gave a pout, hoping he’d go raid the liquor cabinet next door.
He didn’t budge. “I think vodka invented half of your curse words.”
“Please, my ten-year-old sister swears more than I do. My father speaks fuck Latin, where every other word is fuck. When they say sailors swear, it’s actually fishermen they’re talking about.”
“I never would have guessed you were fluent in fuck.”
“Now you know. I could give lessons.” Her laugh dislodged a teaspoon of her angst. Too bad she had a fuck ton of it.
“If it is anything like your fuck lesson last night, I’ll pass.”
She swatted his leg. “I bet there are droves of women who would salute me for leaving you hanging.”
“I saluted you.”
She slammed her eyes shut, trying to block the image from her mind. But it lived there, tattooed forever. The bed rustled and dipped and the heat of Harm seeped into her seconds before his lips found her neck.
The warm suction of his mouth would have been soothing if she weren’t still so keyed up. At least her frustration was helping her keep their relationship in the friend zone.
“Harm, it’s not going to happen.” She shrugged him off, but he didn’t go far.
“You can work out your angst on me, provided you don’t walk away after you get yours.”
She turned to face him, able to recognize so much in his deep brown eyes. The lust shone bright, but she sensed a genuine interest. He was either a hell of a player, or he liked her as much as she did him.
“I’m not someone you picked up at a club. I’m never going to want to party the way you do.”
“You’re over-thinking it.”
“And you’re not thinking it through. We’re going to wind up at anniversary parties and children’s birthdays together. And every time I’ll be uncomfortable because you’ll look at me like you’ve seen me naked. I’m not a hot-night-of-dancing kind of girl. I’m a weekend-in-pajamas chick.”
“We could compromise. Naked Sundays.” He framed her face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over her cheekbones.
“I think you already have that with whichever tourist turns your head.”
“Stop being so judgmental. Sex is a physical release, like exercise.”
“So they’re like tennis partners?”
He thought for a minute, then nodded.
“I don’t play tennis. But if I did, I’d want to play with a partner I knew well enough to anticipate. And every time we played together, we’d be better than the last.”
He licked his lips. “I’m game for that.”
“Don’t talk like you’re going to magically going to get over your fear of relationships.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Really? When have you ever spent time with a woman without sleeping with her?”
“You.”
She couldn’t keep from rolling her eyes. “Before me.”
Pain lanced across his face so fast and harsh she reached for him, wishing she could take it back. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“I was twenty-two, and she wanted to wait until we were married. And then she didn’t, only she decided to sleep with someone else.”
Her heart squeezed and an ache spread through her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t blame her.” His voice softened to a low whisper, his breath reminding her of his masculine taste. “I spent years in and out of hospitals, trying to figure out why I was always in pain. That wasn’t the life she wanted. I didn’t want it either, so I understand why she opted out.” He released her and sat up, his posture perfect.
She reached for his hand, interlocking their fingers. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t tell you for pity.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. But no one deserves to be betrayed in that way.”She watched his features harden one by one, like a computer shutting down. She had a million questions but knew he would retreat if she asked any of them.
He gave her hand a squeeze, then let go and stood. “You’re not using fuck every other word, so I think you’ve calmed down enough to figure out the next step in your evil plan to destroy Captain Fuckstick. Without vodka.”
“My liver thanks you.” She smiled, her heart begging her to ask him to stay, to tell her what happened, to let her make it all better. But she kept quiet, because if he didn’t walk away now, she wouldn’t just sleep with him. She’d fall hopelessly in love.
Chapter Twelve
Harm’s phone vibrated on the pale marble kitchen counter. The screen lit up a snapshot of Antonnis with his blond head tilted back, laughing hysterically at the display in the window of a condom shop in the Red-Light District. The kid knew how to have a good time.
With a grin, Harm answered, “Tonnis! Are you ready to move to Anguilla yet?”
“
Goeiedag, broeder
,” Antonnis answered in their native tongue. “I’m not old enough to retire like my elders. Are you bald and paunchy yet, Mannus?”
Harm pushed a hand through his thick hair and leaned against the butcher-block island. “You’ll go bald before either of us. Hannes and I are on the water every day, while you’re turning into a ghost in that office. You ought to try it, little brother.”
“I’m too young to get stuck in the middle of the ocean just yet. Too much to see, too much money to make. But tell me this, Mannus. Why has Hannes summoned Pappa and me to the island in June?”
“No clue.” Harm rubbed at the tightness in his chest and looked at the salads he’d prepared for dinner, his appetite disappearing. He covered the bowls and put them in the fridge.
“I don’t like this. It’s Sue all over again.”
“Don’t let Pappa offer Sassy a check.” His blood chilled. Sebastian Prinsen had no shame when it came to doing what he thought would keep his children safe. He’d bought a divorce from Johannes’s ex-wife without bothering to run it past his son. Presented the transaction in a family meeting as if it were a lesson for all his boys. “If he tries anything like before, he’ll lose both Johannes and Dutch. He can’t interfere.”