And that beautifully haughty smile on her face made him want to pull the pins from her hair, tangle his fingers in the silky threads and kiss her senseless.
“It rarely happens. But in the event it does, we explore every possible avenue for collaboration. Not only is it not in our brand’s interest to make enemies, but if we don’t believe something is the right thing to do, we don’t do it. You might argue,” he continued as she parted her lips to do just that, “that we only do the right thing because the public is watching. And yes, especially in today’s media-focused environment, the public is always watching. But we also do the right thing because it’s the right thing.”
“And what if the right thing is walking away?”
Challenge vibrated in her voice. The rest of the ballroom fell away as they stared at each other, two people at odds in every way except for the passion that had just flared from a simmer into a blazing inferno.
“The professional in me acknowledges that sometimes the right thing to do is walk away. But personally,” he added with a wicked grin, “I don’t lose.”
The ballroom erupted into a frenzy of conversation. People craned their necks to see who had dared to take on the heir to the Hotel Lassard fortune, while others stared at Nicholas as they whispered and speculated.
Nicholas didn’t pay attention to any of it. He just watched as Anika held his gaze, tilted her chin up in a clear gesture of contest. He let his eyes drop down, caress her body from afar, then looked back up. She was watching him, defiance still radiating off her in thick waves.
But he also saw the rise and fall of her breasts beneath her shirt, the faint color in her cheeks, her own perusal of his body as he stood up.
He wanted her. And, while it probably killed her, she wanted him, too.
Securing her signature on the sale contract paled in comparison to his new goal. By the end of the week, he would have Anika Pierce in his bed.
CHAPTER FOUR
TWINKLINGLIGHTSCRISSCROSSEDthe air over the flagstone terrace of the resort. Tiki torches burned brightly. Waiters passed through the crowds of guests with silver trays, some carrying hearty fare like smoked pork with fried onions and guava jelly, marinated ahi tuna and honey walnut shrimp, and others with sweeter treats like slices of chocolate haupia pie, brown sugar–grilled pineapple and small bowls of passion fruit ice cream. Sensual jazz played from hidden speakers scattered among the lush blooms edging the patio. Beyond the green lawn, the waves of the ocean glowed in the light of the setting sun.
Anika sipped on her cocktail as she glanced around. She had been waiting all afternoon and well into the evening for Nicholas to seek her out. Ever since their verbal sparring in the ballroom, she’d been waiting to continue their battle, anticipating it.
Except he’d disappeared after the presentation. She hadn’t seen him in the afternoon sessions she’d attended, not in the hallways in between workshops, nor in the tour she’d taken of the resort before dinner. The longer he stayed away, the more on edge she’d become, waiting for the proverbial ax to fall.
It had, she thought grumpily, cast a pall over her afternoon. Although the workshop on marketing on a limited budget had been helpful. The tour had been informative and fun. Still, too often her mind strayed to how Nicholas had looked as he’d said the words that had made her body go molten.
I don’t lose.
The memory sent a shiver down her spine. She’d gone to his session as a sort of reconnaissance mission. The more he’d talked, the easier it had been to summon her old anger and dismiss whatever anomaly she’d felt for him on the snorkeling tour. When she’d stood to challenge him, she’d felt prepared, confident.
With every reply, she’d felt her resolve tremble. With every smile he’d directed at her, she’d felt her body weaken. By the end, when he’d uttered those fateful words, she knew she had to do something to reclaim her dignity. Talking to him, reminding him that just because they had a pleasant swim in the sea didn’t mean she was just going to roll over and sign the contract, proving to herself that she could handle a conversation with him without thinking about his body pressed up against hers, had been the perfect solution.
One he’d thwarted by disappearing for the past nine hours.
She took a longer sip of her drink, the light and tangy flavors of lime, pineapple and vodka lingering on her tongue. Why was she continuing to let that man consume so much of her time and energy? Especially when she was in Hawaii, a tropical paradise where she was meeting with hoteliers from around the world?
A drumbeat filled the air. Anika turned with the rest of the crowd as a line of dancers clad in strapless red dresses with thick skirts filed onto the terrace. All of them wore crowns of leaves on top of their hair, with leis of the same leaves draped around their necks and matching strands circled around their ankles.
A woman with silver streaked through her dark hair broke from the dancers and stepped forward, a smile creasing her face.
“Welcome, guests from around the globe. My name is Kalea and tonight I am honored to bring the art of hula to you.” The side conversations fell silent as Kalea’s voice rang out, strong and proud. “Once a means of communicating stories about gods, goddesses, nature and things happening in the world around us, hula suffered over the past two hundred years. It was once deemed illegal to perform in public places, discouraged for decades by outsiders and considered a mere tourist attraction in my grandparents’ time.” Her gaze roamed over the audience. “The history of this dance was nearly lost. But thankfully, it has been revived in recent years. Tonight, we share our culture with you.”
Kalea stepped back into the line. A moment later the dancers began to chant in unison, the song ringing through the night. Anika stared, mesmerized by the sharp, coordinated movements, the smiles on the dancers’ faces, the passion in their voices.
“Incredible, isn’t it?”
She started as warm breath teased her ear. Her fingers tightened around her glass. She could feel him at her back now, just a couple inches behind her as they watched the dancers spin as one in a tight circle.
“Have you seen a hula before?” she asked.
“My father took my mother and me to one years ago. I have never before seen, and likely never will again, witness such precision and perfection.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” His voice rumbled through her body all the way to her toes.