Page 69 of Forbidden Games

Roman hesitated in front of his cart. It seemed simple enough—leave business out of things. It meant passing up valuable opportunities to talk to her, but...it wasn’t like Allie was talking to him at this point. She wasn’t going to, either. She’d made that more than clear.

There was no goddamn reason not to say yes.

He turned around and headed back into the main building. The hostess smiled when she saw him coming. “Mr. Bassani, are you enjoying your stay?”

“Very much so.” He was about to enjoy it a whole hell of a lot more. He stopped next to the desk she stood behind. “I was hoping you could help me with something.”

“Of course.” She smiled brightly, her brown eyes lighting up with the rest of her face. “Let me know what you need and I’ll take care of it.”

“I’d like to send a message to one of the other villas—villa six.”

Her face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry. We do our best to create an isolated and relaxing atmosphere here. If guests choose to come into the lodge, that’s one thing, but we don’t seek them out unless they need something.” And she clearly thought that whatever he wanted to send wouldn’t be relaxing.

Roman put on his most charming smile. “It’s just a little note. If they order dinner tonight, there would already be someone going out there. You can just include the message with the food.”

Still she hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

“If it makes you feel better, you can read the note. Just to ensure it’s all on the up-and-up.”

Another hesitation, shorter this time. “I suppose...” She passed over a thick piece of island stationery. Roman accepted the pen and scrawled a quick note. The hostess frowned. “That’s it?”

“She’ll know what I mean.”

She smiled, obviously put at ease by the fact he hadn’t written anything inappropriate. Roman could have corrected her assumption, but he needed Allie to get that note.Passing notes. That’s what I’ve been reduced to.

It would be hours yet before he knew whatheranswer was—possibly longer if she decided to make him wait. The entire thing was beyond his control, and it irritated the fuck out of him. What was he supposed to do with this? Roman was used to seeing what he wanted and going for it—and heaven help anyone who thought they could stand in the way.

He wanted his client happy, and the only way that would happen was acquiring the gym.

He wanted Allie, too.

Therein lay the issue—he couldn’t have both. There might not be any sort of future with Allie, but there sure as fuck wasn’t one if he kept pushing her. She’d made that more than clear.

If he stopped pushing her, they could relax into the insanely hot sex, but he’d have to let his plan for Transcend go. It might not be the end of the world, but Roman’s career was built on the faith that he could provide exactly what he promised. He’d never met an obstacle he couldn’t account for and overcome.

Until now.

He turned and strode out of the main building and to his cart, gripping the stack of papers. All the information he could come up with for Allie and her gym—something Roman should have done a long time ago. Oh, he’d done the basic background check and pulled the available financial statements he could get ahold of, but he hadn’t dug deeper than that, even when she’d refused to meet him.

Stupid of him.

He didn’t need to navel gaze for the rest of his goddamn life to know why he hadn’t pushed as hard as he normally did.The shelter.He admired the hell out of what she was doing there, and he knew it was pretty damn likely that she had some kind of history that drove her to create a safe space like she had. Having a man try to bulldoze her might trigger shit that he’d have to be a monster to pull up.

He’d played softball with her.

Now that he’d met Allie, he was forced to reevaluate. She wasn’t anything like he’d expected. She wasn’t a wilting flower that would crumble at a sharp word. The woman had thorns, and she had no problem using them. Roman gripped the papers. The gloves were coming off. Now.

8

Allie barely waited for the man to leave their covered food before sheyanked the lids off. “I’m starving.” If she’d spent any time wondering if she’d be active enough while on vacation, she needn’t have worried. Swimming and paddleboarding had left a pleasant soreness in her muscles and an equally pleasant tiredness.

Also, she’d been ready to wade into the ocean and try to catch her own fish if dinner hadn’t shown up when it did.

Becka laughed and bumped Allie with her hip. “They also brought vodka. Your priorities are suspect.”

“Food always trumps vodka.” She speared a glazed shrimp with her fork and then grabbed a chair. “I’m glad to see that you and vodka are back on speaking terms.”

“We’re taking it slow.” Becka pulled up a second chair and sank into it. “My shoulders are killing me. I obviously need to add more push-ups to my routine.”

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