Margaret Allison - Mistletoe Maneuvers

“And the truth is…”

“Exactly as I told her. If she hadn’t attempted a takeover, someone else would’ve. This company is weaker than it’s ever been. When a twenty-six-year-old with only two years of experience uses her father’s connections to take over a company, the sharks start circling.”

“I’m more capable than you give me credit.”

“Maybe,” he said. “Yet here I am.”

“The question is why am I? Why didn’t you just go see her yourself, considering your past relationship?”

“Whatever Sabrina and I shared has nothing to do with this. I know her well enough to realize that she cares little about our past relationship. She’s only interested in making money. You’re with me because we need to convince her that we’re a united front. The heir to the Lawrence fortune and the man who has given you his fortune are friends. If she suspects our relationship is not sincere, she will never accept a deal. She will simply wait and strike again.”

He shook his head and absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair, as if frustrated. “Look, Lessa, as I told you last night, the only one for you to blame for this mess is yourself. Sabrina never would’ve attempted this if I were in charge. You should’ve spent more time doing your homework. If you did, you would’ve realized that any corporate upheaval makes a company ripe for this sort of thing.”

There was a knock on the door. Rick opened it and accepted the package, handing the man a tip in exchange. Rick looked inside the bag, and, with a wicked smile, pulled out the tiniest swimsuit Lessa had ever seen.

She whipped it away from him. “She didn’t by chance include a cover-up in there, did she?”

He opened the bag again. It was clear he was enjoying this. “Not unless you want to wear this,” he said, pulling out his bathing-suit trunks.

She went in the bathroom and slammed the door. She was fuming as she looked at the bright yellow string bikini. It was the type of suit guaranteed to get attention, one that left little to the imagination. She slipped it on, afraid to look at herself in the mirror. She knew without looking that her underwear covered more turf than the suit. She had always been extremely modest, preferring swimsuits that covered her essentials and then some. She wrapped a towel around her waist and, after a moment’s hesitation, opened the door. She hurried past Rick without looking at him. “Let’s go,” she said, heading outside.

“Wait.” He grabbed her arm. “Sabrina might think you don’t care,” he said, tormenting her with his teasing tone.

She hesitated and he let go of her. He had changed into his bathing suit as well. She was not surprised to see that he had the physique of a natural athlete, finely sculpted and strong.

He gave her body a raking gaze. She pretended not to notice his obvious examination and approval, but she could feel her cheeks grow warm. “Take my hand,” he instructed. His hands were large, swallowing hers. He could crush her, but instead he held her as gently as he could. “Take your time,” he instructed. “Slowly. Don’t forget, I’m your lover, not your enemy.”

“It’s easy to forget,” she said.

His eyes gazed over her once again, slowly drinking her in. She could smell Rick, feel his presence.

“Let’s get on with this,” she said. She found herself thinking once again of Sabrina. She had done a lot more than just admire Rick’s muscles. While Lessa had been worshipping him from afar, Sabrina had been experiencing his skills as a lover. She had no doubt Rick was as skilled at lovemaking as he was everything else.

“I’m curious about one thing,” Rick said. “When did you see me with Sabrina?”

“At your apartment,” she replied, not intending the words to sound as bitter as they did. “About ten years ago. My dad sent me over to deliver some papers.”

“That was a long time ago,” he said. “I’m surprised you even remember.”

Of course she remembered, she felt like saying. She had been madly, wildly in love with him. But before she could say anything, his hand settled on top of her rear end. She could feel herself grow short of breath as he pulled her to a stop. “Sabrina is behind you,” he said. “She’s watching us.”

He brushed the back of his hand across her face. “I’m going to kiss you, Lessa,” he said quietly. “It’s going to be a tender, passionate kiss. I want you to take your hands and wrap them around my neck. Can you do that?”

Oh God, oh God…

“Just relax,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

As he leaned forward, she closed her eyes and puckered up. His lips pressed against hers as his hand slipped around her small waist, pulling her in to him. As her bare flesh pressed against his, she was overwhelmed by his physical strength and power.

Slowly, he stopped. He smiled softly, his eyes caressing her. And for a moment, she forgot it was not real. He loved her and she loved him and that was all that mattered.

But instead of sweet nothings, he said, “You didn’t put your arms around my neck.” With a nod toward Sabrina, he added, “Next time follow instructions.”

“As I told you, Mr. Parker,” Lessa said, still shaky from the kiss. “I’m not an actress.”

“Well, you better try. Because this is the only way to get back your father’s business. So no more tantrums.” He swung her back into him.

“Every time you touch me, it makes me dislike you even more.”

“Well, if all goes according to plan,” he said, pulling her so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, “by the end of the evening you’ll hate me.” He released her but still held on to her hand. “Shall we?”

The afternoon sun reflected off the blue Caribbean, beating through the palm trees that flanked the path. They made their way to the white sandy beach toward a waving Sabrina. Lessa was surprised to see that Sabrina was wearing a suit even skimpier than hers.

“This way,” Sabrina called out cheerfully.

Lessa glanced sideways at Rick. If Sabrina was wearing the bikini to impress him, it didn’t appear to work. He was looking intently at Lessa. “Showtime,” he told her softly.

“Well,” Sabrina said, the smile fading from her face as she saw Lessa, “I see you got the suit. Who knew you had a figure underneath those big, bulky clothes of yours?”

“Lessa’s in great shape,” Rick said, smiling at her proudly. Lessa couldn’t help but wince at the discussion of her physical attributes. She tightened the towel around her waist.

“She’s a competitive tennis player,” Rick said. “She even played at Wimbledon.”

“The Wimbledon Juniors,” Lessa corrected him, embarrassed by the exaggeration.

“How impressive,” Sabrina said, obviously unimpressed. “But does she water-ski?”

Why did Sabrina insist on talking to Rick as if Lessa weren’t there? “No, she doesn’t,” Lessa said, referring to herself in the third person.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Sabrina said, with mock sincerity. “Perhaps you’d like to stay here and settle into a beach chair. We won’t be long, will we, Rick?” Once again, she flashed her pearly whites.

“I’m always up for trying something new,” Lessa said as enthusiastically as she could.

Rick jumped on the boat and held out his hand. She made herself take his hand and climbed onboard.

The boat took off and Sabrina fell against Rick. “Whoa,” she said. Rick steadied her as Sabrina smiled at him gratefully. And that was when it hit Lessa. Sabrina was not only an ex-girlfriend, she was vying to be the current one as well. But did she really like him? Or was she, as Rick maintained, just trying to determine his response? After all, what better way to see if his relationship with Lessa was real?