I am going to be out of my league again tonight. Hopefully, I won’t have a Pretty Woman moment and squirt my escargot across the dining area. Declan already bought me a new wardrobe, so I feel like I’m well on my way to trying to fit in somewhere I don’t belong, just like Julia Roberts in the movie. I don’t need to act her part to feel as if I’m living it.
Inside the lobby of Caesars, I’m surprised to find Declan waiting for me. This afternoon, he’d merely left instructions to meet him at the restaurant, then he’d left the office to work from his suite for the remainder of the day. I’d stayed at my desk, learning the computer system and flipping through the human resources manual. In addition to the hefty salary and signing bonus he promised, I get 401K, health insurance, three weeks of paid vacation, and seven sick days.
Taking a—hopefully—surreptitious second, I revel in how gorgeous Declan Blackwood is. In my opinion, there’s no better pairing than dark hair and blue eyes. Declan’s hair is thick, more black than brown, and his eyes have a flash of silver in their blue depths. I have no clue if his hair will gray as he ages, but if it does, he’ll wear it well. His wavy locks are swept back from his forehead and face, accentuating his strong jawline and slightly hollowed cheeks, which make him appear of European descent.
His suit is a navy so dark it could pass for black. Of course, it’s expertly cut to his frame, which is packed solid with muscle, as I can attest by seeing his near nakedness yesterday.
“Miss Robbins,” he says in greeting.
“Mr. Blackwood,” I reply. Even internally, I’d made myself drop the Dicklan nickname. If I didn’t, I’d end up getting irritated one day, and it would slip out.
Then I’d be fired and out of luck.
To my surprise, he holds his arm out, slightly bent at the elbow. It’s a silent demand, so I curl my fingers around there, allowing him to escort me into the restaurant.
As we traverse our way to the Augustus Tower of Caesars, I find myself not minding the heat of his body through his suit jacket or the hardness of his arm muscles under my fingertips.
“I knew that dress would be a great choice,” Declan says, and I almost stumble I’m so stunned by his comment.
“Pardon?” I mutter, managing to smooth my gait once again.
“Look at all the attention you’re drawing,” he says quietly.
I look around at the people milling about. Some people who will be lodging here, others just on a tour of the famed Caesars Palace. Many people—men, women, old, young—are watching us.
Well, watching Declan. Surely not me.
He doesn’t allow me to refute him, though, continuing, “We’re meeting a gentleman tonight by the name of Christopher McGale. Do you recognize the name?”
The name is sadly not familiar, and thus I can’t impress my boss. I shake my head. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
“He’s a hotelier himself, but he’s made his name on small, trendy type boutique lodgings in secluded places.”
“And you’re considering doing something like that with the Blackwood brand?” I ask.
“Considering it,” he admits. “I want you to do the same thing tonight… take notes, feel free to ask pertinent questions if something comes to that fascinating brain of yours, and keep your senses open to anything odd.”
I stop walking, forcing him to do the same and turn my way. “I don’t understand why you need me to try to judge these people. I’m sure you’ve done lots of business meetings without someone like me to observe.”
“That would be true, but I have you now. You’re a resource.” The detached tone indicates I’m nothing but a tool in his arsenal, but then his voice drops an octave, and he bends slightly toward me. His gaze runs down the length of me, and his lips curl slightly. “Now that I have you, why wouldn’t I use you?”
I can’t suppress the tiny shiver that tingles up my spine. We’re talking business, and there’s nothing in his words to suggest anything different. But his tone and expression seem to insinuate a decidedly unprofessional meaning.
And I have to wonder… did he hire me, buy me a new wardrobe, and bring me with him to meetings all under the guise of getting me into his bed?
Studying his face, I search for clues to dissuade my notion. I mean, surely not. He’s Declan freaking Blackwood. He could have any supermodel or movie star at the snap of his fingers. Wealthier than God, he’s also panty-dropping gorgeous. He wouldn’t have to go to such lengths to get laid.
Not that I’m willing to let him take me to bed.
Nope. Not at all. Not even if Jeff seems to think I’ll feel better about myself if I’d just go out and get some action.
“Declan,” a man calls from our left. With a subtle pressure, Declan shifts me toward whom I assume is Christopher McGale, waiting outside the doors of Restaurant Guy Savoy.
Smiling, Declan leads me over. After the men shake hands, Declan introduces me as his assistant.
Christopher McGale is the opposite of the man we lunched with. He’s young, probably in his mid-thirties, and incredibly attractive with auburn hair, hazel eyes, and a tall, muscular frame. Between him and Declan, I imagine every woman in the vicinity would kill to be in my place.
The hostess leads us into the dimly lit restaurant, ushering us into a private alcove with a table set for three. The men order scotch on the rocks while I settle on white wine. As soon as we place our orders, they launch into business.
As I suspected, Declan must be considering opening something other than the usual Blackwood hotel or resort, which are usually enormous. Once again focusing on the Cayman Islands, the men discuss size, occupancy, and amenities.
Incredibly bored when they delve into the intricacies of financing, I focus more on their body language, realizing Declan likes Christopher McGale more than he had our lunch companion. I’m not sure if it’s because they are closer in age or if, in my opinion, Mr. McGale seems more transparent and genuine, whereas Mr. Frost came across as a hustler. Regardless, Declan is more relaxed during this meeting.
And frankly… Mr. McGale is more likable. He doesn’t appear to be digging for inroads to exclusively benefit himself. Instead, I’d say he desires a give-and-take partnership based on their mutual strengths of what each brings to the table of the project they want to build together.
At the end of the evening, I’m still not entirely sure I’ve pieced together precisely what Declan wants to accomplish, but I do know a bit. Declan wants to branch out from the Blackwood business model to build something unique. He intends to do this outside of the Blackwood name, presumably to start up his own company, which is why he’s searching for investors.
And he seems to be extremely driven, as evidenced when he’d informed Mr. McGale he’d be making the decision on whom to invite into the joint venture by month’s end.
CHAPTER 7
Declan
There she is… I’ve looked forward to seeing her way too much. As I walk into my office, my new assistant, Bailey Robbins, waits at my door with her iPad in one arm and a cup of coffee for me in the other.
If I had thought that being around her would get a bit easier with time, I was wrong. I was also wrong in my belief that she would stop affecting me so strongly the more I was around her.