The Dare Collection August 2019. Christy McKellen

the upper hand causing the sparkle in her eyes.

      I rub my chin, drawn to every move she makes, my mind returning to the reel of fantasies I’ve had about Blair Cameron in the past eighteen hours. The idea of her in control is not an unwelcome image. That hair wild as she rides me, and those shapely legs gripping my waist, while I explore the sensitivity of those nipples I see peeking through the fabric of her dress. I spread my thighs a fraction under the table to accommodate the burgeoning tightness in my trousers.

      Blair pulls out her tablet once more and slides it over the table. ‘Take a look at the concept plans—try to visualise the end result.’

      I glance at the images on the screen, still unconvinced.

      My reticence wobbles her confident spiel, but she rallies. ‘If it’s the guest bookings that are concerning you, we can minimise delays by staging the renovations—close off one floor at a time to redecorate the guest rooms and then finish with the ground floor and the communal areas. Surely you can accommodate the minimal disruption by housing guests at your other hotels?’

      She’s determined to make this work. ‘Searching for wiggle room to satisfy us both?’ I say, my respect for her persistence and flexibility growing.

      She flushes as though I’ve hit a nerve, leaving me curious about what exactly is running through her mind and if it in any way correlates to the pleasurable distractions in mine.

      ‘It makes good business sense that we’re both happy—repeat work from satisfied clients forms a large part of my business, so I would, of course, aim to give you everything you want.’

      Her words, and the double meaning my brain interprets, make my blood pound harder.

      ‘Ruthless and accommodating—admirable.’ My smile seems to bring a delightful flush to her skin, but the bitter tang in my mouth reminds me that I’ve fallen prey to such ruthlessness before—never again, no matter how appealing the package. And ensuring Dad hasn’t fallen prey to Blair’s charms, her radical changes, will be my top priority going forward, no matter how good her designs.

      ‘Yes...’ she says, ‘well...running my own business has taught me it’s the only way to stop unscrupulous people taking advantage.’ Her stare dips to the table. Perhaps because she’s just intimated I’m unscrupulous and not to be trusted. If only she knew the lack of trust is totally reciprocated.

      ‘Well, ruthlessness in a business setting is a worthy skill. One we share.’ Best she understands from the start I’m not simply going to roll over because she waves her contract or cites our family connections. My suspicious mind hasn’t abandoned all its wild theories—she could have cornered Graham at the golf club, played on his confusion, and now she’s here to pick over the bones, for all I know. Perhaps she plans to sabotage her father’s main competition by painting my beloved hotel lime green...

      My lips twitch at that last absurd thought. That’s never going to happen.

      ‘Oh, I fully intend to extend the ruthlessness you admire to all areas of my life, believe me.’ Her lips part, dragging my attention south.

      Fuck. Is she flirting? And how can I have the best of both worlds here—the Faulkner safe and sound and under my strict control, and this woman temporarily in my bed? My attraction to her could become a distraction I don’t need. Better to dispense with the inconvenience and focus on Dad and the renovations he’s set in motion.

      ‘But that falls outside the realms of this discussion,’ she says.

      I check the grudging respect for her building inside, quashing it back down. Blair Cameron may look like a strong wind could topple her from those heels, but there’s steel running through her skeleton. Steel and ambition and fucking sexy spunk.

      ‘Why don’t you amend the contract to say the renovations will be staged so we can close the Faulkner to guests for the bare minimum of time?’ she says.

      I slide a file her way. ‘I’ve already thought of that—the newly amended contract.’ I lean back, a slug of satisfaction stretching my lips into a small smile, while I wait for the counter-proposal I know is coming. She’s too smart, too driven to allow me off the hook so easily—after all, she has the upper hand legally, although she showed she can compromise too when she handled Graham’s mistaken identity so thoughtfully.

      ‘Great.’ She eyes the paperwork and then looks up.

      I relax into the leather, getting comfortable, and allow my stare to wander. That she isn’t a pushover sharpens my focus, so I notice a freckle in the hollow at the base of her throat and find new colours hiding in her irises. I’m not expecting her question or the sharp change in direction.

      ‘Is Graham still under the impression I’m his soon-to-be daughter-in-law?’ She too relaxes back in the chair, as if all business deals conclude in this personal way.

      The hair at the nape of my neck stands to attention. ‘I don’t see how what happened yesterday is relevant.’ I’m not exposing my father to curiosity or gossip, or even to her well-meaning pity.

      ‘You asked me to lie, to play along—that’s how it’s relevant.’ Her index fingernail taps the table and she glances down, stilling the movement. ‘I know you and I aren’t close...’ her eyes bounce back to mine ‘...but neither am I a complete stranger.’

      I suck in a breath through my teeth, mentally conceding her point even as I try to wriggle free. I did ask her to play along with Dad’s misunderstanding. My father’s presence in my office when he should have been at his club gave me enough of a shock, without the added double whammy of him mistaking Blair for Sadie, back when we’d first been engaged. I was reeling.

      ‘No, perhaps our age difference is the reason we don’t know each other well. You’re young, in fact, to be running your own business, one of the reasons I was slightly bemused by your appointment.’

      Her lush lips thin as if I’ve touched a nerve. ‘I assure you I’m capable—Graham, for one, believes in me, and I respect him too,’ she says, holding my eye contact. ‘He’s always been kind to me, made time for me, and I’d like to know how to respond when I see him again. I don’t think that’s unreasonable. In fact, I insist,’ she says, putting me in my place once more.

      Could she be any more fascinating?

      I conceal my own uncertainty behind a shrug. I wish I had the answers she requires. But she’s right—I have to give her something. ‘He’s...intermittently slightly confused and currently undergoing investigations.’ I tap the table, my eyes narrowing. ‘I’m afraid I can’t give you any reassurances beyond that. So I understand if you prefer to walk away now.’ Will she take the money and run? Will that be an end to this? ‘My offer of financial recompense for the time you’ve already invested, of course, stands.’

      She shakes her head before I’ve even registered the hollow pang that tells me a part of me wants to work with her on this project. Her insistence should ease my suspicions that she’s in this for monetary gain. All my preconceived ideas about her, admittedly tainted by my past experiences with Sadie, were all rattled last night when she turned down my offer of financial compensation, and when she played along for the sake of my confused father. And now this morning, despite sticking to her guns, she’s amenable and conciliatory, demanding further respect from me where she could have just clung to her bottom line.

      My hands tense on the arms of the chair. But all I have to do is keep a close eye on her professionally—I don’t have to trust her to enjoy her body.

      ‘I’m happy to sign this revised contract.’ She slides the folder closer, lining it up parallel to the edge of the table before relaxing her hands on either side on the polished oak.

      I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Great. Then our business is concluded.’ This couldn’t go better from my point of view. Not only do I have a revised contract, but I’ve also cited myself as overseer to the work. She won’t be able to change a light bulb without my prior approval.

      ‘Perhaps.’