Page 4 of Turning Up the Heat

HAPTER TWO

ASTOMWALKED away from Gemma and the rest of the Rexford clan, he drank the rum in his glass. Gemma’s spiced honey rum was some of the best he’d ever had. From across the room, he watched Gemma Rexford speak with her brothers. He knew that he should forget about her, but no matter where he was in the room, his eyes found her every time, picking her out of the crowd. Her long, wavy hair was dark and shiny, and looked so soft he wanted to run his fingers through it. She was like a beacon. He’d always been attracted to her, but in the past, their interactions had been limited to quick conversations about the industry at trade shows and conferences. Tonight, though, he hadn’t been able to stay away from her. And as she stared up at him with those sharp, brown eyes, as she challenged him... God damn if she wasn’t the most impressive woman he’d ever met.

She was smart, sexy as fuck, had a quick wit and—he drank from the glass of Rexford Rum in his hand—she made one hell of a bottle of rum. She really was the best distiller he’d ever encountered. Part of him wondered what she thought of the Cain rum he’d poured for her. He’d wanted her thoughts as a professional. But that was stupid. It shouldn’t matter to him. His company made a fine product. Carolina may have tried to screw over her former family, but there was no way he would have let that happen.

From his spot across the room, he watched her speaking to her brothers. She looked guarded, however—on edge—as if they’d said something to upset her. Her posture was rigid, and she frowned. Briefly, he considered going back over there and pulling her away. But that was stupid. She was a strong, grown woman, and she didn’t need rescuing from her brothers. Especially by him. And that would probably earn him a punch in the throat. From her.

She was still drinking from the glass—at least she hadn’t thrown it down in disgust. He watched her hold it up to the light again. Looking for impurities, no doubt. She wouldn’t find any. He hoped. God, he wished he could read her mind. Or at least her expression. The woman was a puzzle. She looked up and saw him—caught him looking. He grinned, and after a moment, he turned away. He sighed. If he had to stay away from Gemma Rexford, it was going to be a long conference.

With his mind on Gemma, he did several laps around the ballroom. Every time he looked in her direction, he saw her eyes on him, as if she was following him through the banquet hall. He stopped every now and then to talk with people he knew. But no one could hold his interest like the female distiller from Miami. Gemma outmatched everyone in the room with her intellect, her biting sense of humor—he subtly adjusted himself by shifting his pants—her raw sex appeal.

A server walked past him carrying a tray of questionable-looking shrimp pieces in puffed pastry. Tom might have passed them up, but he hadn’t had anything to eat since that morning, and he was already feeling a bit of a buzz from the rum he’d had. He picked up an hors d’oeuvre from the tray and bit into it, immediately regretting his decision. The conference might be held at the nicest five-star resort in Jamaica, but it seemed that the catering was the same as any event at a three-star hotel. He bundled the remainder of the food into the small napkin and tossed it into a nearby trash can. When he looked up again, he was pleased to see Gemma standing in front of him.

“The food kind of sucks, right?”

“I would have expected better seafood from the Caribbean, but you can’t win them all, I guess.”

He noticed for the first time that she was holding two short glasses. She handed one to him. “I thought maybe since you enjoyed your first glass so much, you might want a second.”

He laughed. “Thanks. At least it’ll get the taste of that shrimp out of my mouth.”

“You know, if you’re looking for palatable shellfish, maybe you should head to Miami sometime. Nothing but incredible seafood restaurants there.”

He sipped from his glass, hiding his surprise at their now pleasant conversation. “Is that an invitation?”

She shrugged and drank, too. “It’s a free country. You can do what you want.”

“So, if I were to visit Miami, where would you recommend I go?”

“Hmm,” she started playfully. “Well, there’s Arlo’s. A great Cuban restaurant. But they’re so busy now that it’s almost impossible to get a table if you don’t know someone.”

“Well, I know you.” She didn’t respond, but he saw the blush that colored her cheeks. He liked that. He wanted to prod a little more, but he didn’t want to drive her away. He took a look around. “Where are your bodyguards?”

“My bodyguards?”

“Your brothers. They obviously didn’t like that you were talking to me back there.”

She shrugged. “I’m a grown woman. I can talk to whoever the hell I want.”

“Well, I’m flattered that you want to talk to me.”

“Don’t be too flattered,” she told him, her smile playful. “I’m only here because everyone else is so mind-numbingly boring.”

“Well, that’s the trouble with being the most impressive person in the room,” he noted. “No one’s your match.”

“You think I’m the most impressive person in the room?” she asked with a small smile that let a little vulnerability come through.

“You are,” he assured her truthfully. “No one else even comes close.”

Gemma smiled, trying not to let Tom Cain’s compliment go to her head. Well, it wasn’t her head that she was worried about. Just being in the man’s presence sent a drumline of desire straight between her thighs. What was she thinking going after him again? She hadn’t been thinking—that was her problem. There was no way she could be attracted to a Cain. It was stupid. And given every other interaction they’d had with that family, she had no idea if she could even trust him. But if her brothers found out? She didn’t even want to think about what they would do. Reid and Quin just might disown her. But tell all of that to the throbbing, needy desire that tapped out a message to her brain, telling her what to do. The message should have been SOS, because she was in serious trouble.

But Gemma just couldn’t help herself. She took in their surroundings; there was a supply closet to her left, and no one in the room was paying them any mind. So, acting quickly, she opened the door and pulled Tom inside before shutting the door, leaving them in the dim light of the small room. She looked around and in the dark, she saw stacks of chairs and folded tables. There wasn’t much room in there, but it would do.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she pushed him back against the closed door.

“Something totally irresponsible,” she told him before she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to meet her.

Tom’s lips captured hers in a blistering kiss that promised to devour her whole. That was exactly what she wanted. His taste, his scent, the way he pressed his hard body against hers, was enough to draw a needy moan from deep within her chest as she pulled him even closer, grasping at his shoulders, greedy for more, holding on for dear life. His kiss was unlike any she’d had before. She may be leaving the banquet dinner with an award for her rum making, but Tom should be given one for kissing.

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