I knew who he was now, of course. Had for a while. It was hard not to. I recognized him from publicity photos and all the social media sites. But unless he had a stellar memory, he had no reason to remember me. We'd both been drunk. I'd been out with coworkers celebrating a big deal we'd just landed. I didn't generally get bombed, but that evening I cut loose. Plus I'd had practically nothing to eat all day. Another one of my mad diets.
Now that guy, who looked so much more seductively like my memories of the adorable, hot guy at the bar than nemesis Mr. Hott Socks, was standing on the edge of the pier. One gentle push while he was caught off guard and he'd be in the drink. Delicious.
There was a huge, evil part of me that screamed, Do it! If I hadn't needed his business so damn much…
Fortunately, my saner head prevailed. This could turn out to be my lucky day.
His eyebrows shot up. "You?"
For half a second I thought the stunned look on his face might actually have been happy surprise.
"Britt West," I said.
"Britt?"
Why the question in his voice? Didn't he remember me? Or maybe the name of Flashionista's most tenacious merch buyer struck fear in his heart. A girl could hope.
"The Britt?"
Was I a celebrity suddenly? I frowned, puzzled, and looked around, wondering if there was another girl standing behind me. "The Britt?"
"I'm supposed to ferry a Brittany to my buddy's cabin. He auctioned four days at his place off for charity last year. He would have been here himself but he was called out of town suddenly…"
I had stopped listening. I went cold, and quite calculating, in the eighty-degree-plus heat. Vacation-and relaxation-wise, I wasn't thrilled with this new scenario. But as long as I had him cornered on a boat ride to the cabin, I may as well take advantage of it. I could swallow my pride long enough to land a deal.
My heart pounded treacherously fast. The same way it had the first time I'd met Eli in that bar when he'd simply been a charming hot guy who flirted exceptionally well.
I lifted my chin and showed him my reservation on my phone.
He looked resigned. And sheepish. "That's the place." He pointed to a boat moored at the dock. "We'd better get going. They're forecasting a rare July storm for this evening. It's no Category 5 tropical hurricane, but it won't be a picnic for this small boat."
I looked around at the clear blue sky for as far as I could see. "There's not a cloud in the sky."
"Don't let that fool you." He took my bags from me and loaded them into the boat. "They come up quickly around here."
"It's supposed to be the dry season."
"It is. Mostly." He gave me a hand aboard the boat.
I hated to admit it, but the touch of his hand sent shivers of sexual awareness through me. His hands were long-fingered and strong. Can hands be sexy? If so, his were. Along with the rest of him—his chiseled jaw. Sparkling blue eyes. Fashionably longish hair. And close-cropped beard. Long, strong legs. And he smelled amazing.
He was wearing one of Hott's hottest-selling T-shirts, shorts, and boat shoes, no socks.
I let my hand linger in his too long. "Too hot for your socks?"
Hott's motto was You're never too hot for our socks.
He looked down at his feet. "With boat shoes?
He had me there. Why did I lose it around him?
"If I could find a way to make it sexy, and comfortable, to wear socks with boat shoes, I would." He flashed a killer grin that lit up the adorable dimples in his cheeks.
I was such a sucker for dimples. Pair them with a strong jaw, a close beard, and dancing eyes…
But this man was a shark. And a typical sweet talker. Why do guys say they'll call when they have no intention of following through? Promises, empty promises.
"These are prototypes using new technology and materials from a friend's company. Completely odor-free, no matter what you do to them. Slip-free. Comfort soles."
Was his chest puffing? It was already hot enough around here. Did he need to peacock, too?
"We're teaming up on a joint venture…"
Did he not know what he was saying? Throwing gas on the fire. I resisted shaking my head. Sure. Fine. Taunt me with another product you won't let me feature at Flash. I wanted to slap him in the worst way. Or maybe just throw myself at him.
"What are you doing in Fiji?" I could put the chill in my voice when I wanted. And I definitely wanted.
He was being so damned casual.
"I've been vacationing down here for the past week. Just hanging with my buddy." He untied the boat and headed for the driver's seat, nodding toward the passenger seat next to it. "You'll be most comfortable up front. It can get choppy in the back."
"So that's why you haven't been returning my calls." I followed him to the passenger seat. But only because I wanted his ear. In this case, a captive audience was the only kind I was likely to get with him. "And here I just thought you were avoiding me."
For a split second he looked almost guilty. Adorably so. "Oh. That Brittany West." His voice hardened. "From Flashionista. I thought I recognized your voice from somewhere."
Finally.
He pulled the boat out of its space and headed toward open water.
"We'd love to do an event with you." I launched into my sales pitch.
He cut me off. "I have a strict no-business-while-on-vacation policy. I don't make deals during my downtime."