“Tell her to go back to the bungalow and unpack, Denise. And tell her to grab some dinner from the restaurant and charge it to the room. I’m going to require another meeting with her tomorrow.”
“Ummm. Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”
I look at the candidate files in front of me, then ease Ivy Rockwell’s closer. She’s amazing on paper. How fucking smart do you have to be to get your BA and MBA at the same time? I’ve heard of people doing it, but not at a school like Brown. And all the guys I knew of completed most of their BA’s in high school, before they ever got to college. Dual track, I think they called it. I bet that preacher father of hers was all about overachieving.
I can see it, actually. I can picture her in that little schoolgirl outfit, studying late on Saturday nights in the library as she completed two sets of courses in high school.
She’s amazing in person, as well. I picture those perfect pink lips wrapped around my cock, her big blue eyes staring up at me as I grab her hair and force her to take me all the way down her throat.
Goddammit. Why did she have to come up with a unique idea?
What if… what if I fuck her senseless tonight and then hire her tomorrow?
It just might work.
Oh, Nolan Delaney, you are one sneaky bastard. That should’ve been my name back at Brown. Mr. Sneaky Bastard.
Chapter Ten - Ivy
“Mr. Delaney wants you to go back to your cabana, unpack, and then get dinner and charge it to the room.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Rockwell. That’s what he said. I don’t know any more than that. He wants another meeting with you tomorrow.”
“Another meeting?” I whisper to myself.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“OK.” I sigh. “Thank you.” I grab the handle of my carry-on bag and go back out the lobby, past the pool, and into the little secluded residence section. It’s not quite dark yet, but the sun is low in the sky and the unbearable heat is finally starting to fade.
When I pass the private pool I think of the swimsuit I bought. I left it in the pretty bag, sitting on a chair in the cabana. I couldn’t make myself take that suit. I don’t want to take anything from these people. But Nolan Delaney said to stay. What can I do about it? He’s the one with the jet. If he doesn’t call it to take me home, then I’m stuck doing his bidding.
But another meeting is a good sign. I bite my lip as I think what it might mean.
What it might mean, Ivy Rockwell, is that he knows you’re on to something, regardless of what Claudette says. I tiptoe past her bungalow, but I don’t think she’s in there because the curtains are open and I can see inside.
When I get inside I unpack my clothes and change into a yellow sundress and a pair of flip flops. I pull my hair up in a ponytail and wash my face, relieved to be rid of the day’s makeup.
I should call Nora and tell her everything. Tell her what a supercunt Claudette is. Tell her how weird the infamous Mr. Romantic is.
But she will keep me on the phone for hours and my stomach is rumbling. That salad this afternoon wasn’t enough to satisfy me through the night.
Besides, Nora will see right through me and start asking about how hot Nolan is. And that’s not something I can deny.
He is damn hot.
And the way he stared at me when I finished my presentation, the way he saw me—like he was undressing me with his eyes. Imagining my body naked before him. Imagining me doing things to him. Or himself doing things to me.
Oh, shit. I suddenly remember the fake résumé. If he wants to talk to me again that will surely come up. I can’t lie about it. I’m not a very good liar.
But I can’t tell him, either. I have no explanation for it. And they won’t believe me, anyway. They will say I dropped it off at that job fair and that’s how that other guy, Mr. Corporate, got a hold of it.
Of course someone with that kind of academic history would be of interest to a headhunter, right? It makes me out to be some kind of business-school prodigy.
I’m going to sit on that little detail for now. Even though Mr. Delaney asked for another meeting tomorrow, I’m probably still on the next jet out of here.
Might as well get some dinner. Bossy Mr. Romantic practically ordered me to.
I open the door and come face to face with the deviant himself.
“Oh,” I say, stepping back. “You startled me.”
Nolan notes my change of clothes with an appreciative glance. The sundress isn’t overly short, but it’s a sundress. It stops mid-thigh and the top has a low-cut v that shows more cleavage than I’m comfortable with, now that his green eyes are taking me in.
“Going to dinner, Miss Rockwell?”
“Yes,” I say with hesitation. Why is he here? And now that he is, I begin to notice what he’s wearing as well.
Gone is the suit. Replaced by faded jeans that hug his muscular legs and… well, let’s just say there’s a healthy bulge right where you’d expect said bulge to be. I stare at it, unable to stop. Is he hard? Or is that just… I look up and find him smiling at me. Oh, my God. He caught me staring at his dick. And then, before I can even be properly embarrassed, I notice what else he’s wearing. A white cotton dress shirt, with only the bottom few buttons buttoned up, and nothing else.
His nipples are beautiful.
I did it again. And when I find his handsome face I get lost in the five o’clock shadow of his strong, square jaw.
His smile becomes a laugh. “Good.” And then he takes my hand, places it on his elbow like he wants me to hold on to him, and says, “I’ll walk you.”
I’m speechless. I have no idea what to do other than grab hold of his arm and walk with him as he steps forward.
“I’m sorry we didn’t hire you, Ivy. But there’s a very good reason for it.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m looking straight ahead, so he can’t see them. “Let me guess. The reason is because your sister is a bitch?”
Nolan sighs.