Coming on Strong

“We have an opportunity to kick ourselves to the next level with a job this exclusive,” Sierra said quietly as she settled back in her chair. “Better yet, you have a chance here to settle up some past debts, get some of that fabled closure. Are you going to let semantics stop you?”

Was she? Belle glanced at Sierra, noting the assured confidence on her friend’s angular face. Sierra wouldn’t push unless she thought it was really important. She might be a relentless nag when it came to the success of Eventfully Yours. But she was a good friend and would never sacrifice Belle to snag a client. Even one as potentially huge as MC Development.

Belle had spent the last six years regretting her screw-up. She should have faced Mitch herself instead of running like a wuss. Hell, she should never have agreed to marriage in the first place. She’d known better. Sex, as incredible as it might have been, was no reason to go off the deep end. But she’d been afraid to push the issue, then after the altar-ditch, too hurt and upset to face his anger.

Ever since, she’d tried to find a guy to replace him, both in her bed and her fantasies. None had stuck, though. Probably because she’d never actually had Mitch. This might be her chance to get over him, once and for all.

She glanced back at the files, the panoramic photo of the resort and its welcoming lakeside forest. She wanted to see it in person. Even more, she wanted to do Mitch, right there on the edge of that lake. Outdoor sex in the woods, like something out of a fairy tale. The orgasm she was imagining was probably mythical, too. But she didn’t care. She wanted to find out.

Despite the nerves clawing at her, she set the file down, slipped her shoes on and grabbed her purse.

“Shopping?” Sierra asked, sliding her feet into her shoes, too.

“We’ll start with lingerie. I heard about this new place called Twisted Knickers. The designs supposedly take provocative to a whole new level.”

FOCUSED ON his conversation, Mitch strode past Diana’s desk with his cell phone glued to his ear. His assistant waved her hand, trying to get his attention, but he held up one finger, then pointed to his office door. He’d talk to her when he was done.

“I don’t want any more excuses,” Mitch ordered his foreman. “The electrical has to be finished by the first of the month.” This damned week had gone downhill fast. There’d been even more building delays, his designer had gone into labor two months early, and now electrical problems. To top it off, he’d talked to three event planners so far and none had come close to sparking his interest. He was wound so tight, he was ready to snap. “The plumbing is already three weeks behind. If we lose any more ground, we won’t open on schedule. If that happens, we’re screwed.”

He listened to his foreman’s justifications with half an ear as, still ignoring Diana’s increasingly frantic gestures, he opened his office door. As always, the view of the lush green woods through the window beckoned him. Maybe he’d go for a run, shake off some of the tension. He’d rather have a long, sweaty roll in the sheets, but he couldn’t afford the distraction. Not when everything was on the line.

One more step into his office and Mitch felt like he’d been hit in the face. Maybe it was sex on the brain, but even the air shifted, turning sultry and suggestive. He breathed in, his lungs filling with a musky floral scent.

Instant turn-on.

Seated as she was in the high-backed leather chair facing the window, all Mitch could see were long, sexy legs ending in strappy black do-me heels. He tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dirt-dry. Those were wrap-around-the-shoulders-and-ride-’em-wild legs.

Damn. Talk about distraction.

Mitch flipped his phone closed, not sure if he’d said goodbye or even if his foreman was still talking. He stepped further into the office, deliberately closing the door behind him. Two more steps into the room, and he could see around the high leather back of the chair.

Gorgeous. The impact was like getting kicked in the gut by a black belt on steroids. Swift, intense and indefensible. The first time he’d seen Belle, she’d been twenty-one. He’d thought then she couldn’t possibly be more confident in her own sexual power. He’d obviously been wrong, since she was now a master of it. Or was that mistress? And why did that make him crave studded black leather shorts?

Six years had added layers of polish, maturity and assurance to her already powerful sexual charisma. Mitch’s gaze reluctantly left those delicious legs to travel upward. He noted the flirty green skirt, the same shade as her eyes, ending a few inches above her knees. A wide leather belt accented her waist and emphasized her lush breasts in the gossamer soft-white blouse. Mitch let his eyes rest there for just a second, millions of regrets pounding in his head. He wished like hell that once, just once, he’d tasted their bounty.

He was sure if he had, he’d have easily kept her out of his mind. The only reason he’d never found another woman to replace her was that he’d blown the fantasy of sex between them all out of proportion.

He felt her amusement before he even looked at her face. Belle was used to being ogled, so he didn’t waste time on embarrassment. He wondered briefly at giving her that much power this early in the game, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. That there was a game afoot was implicit. The question wasn’t who would win, either. It was how much it would cost him to play.

She arched one platinum brow, amused challenge clear in her eyes and the dimple that played at the corner of her full lips. Her hair was shorter now, angled to emphasize her rounded cheekbones and the sharp line of her jaw.

“Well, well,” Mitch drawled, moving around to lean on his desk while he faced the biggest mistake of his life. “If it isn’t my long-lost bride.”

Chapter 2

“LONG-LOST bride-to-be, if you please,” Belle corrected precisely.

She had to work to keep her smile in place. As much as she’d have preferred to avoid reference to their past, she’d known Mitch, for all his gentlemanly reputation, wouldn’t sidestep the issue. She took a little breath before she lifted her chin. Since she had to deal with it, she’d face it head-on.

Or at least make him think she was dealing with it just long enough to flirt her way off the topic.

“Don’t you look gorgeous,” she commented with a wink. Since he’d made no attempt to hide his visual tour, she let her eyes take their own leisurely stroll, appreciating the view from head to toe.

Damn, he really had gotten better with age. His hair, still that deliciously rich auburn, was a little longer, a little less formal. His face was leaner, his shoulders broader. She was tempted to ask him to turn around so she could decide if his ass was any tighter. But it was awfully hard to beat perfection, so she doubted it.

“The years have definitely treated you well, Mitch.”

Beneath her husky words and confident smile, her insides felt as though they were on a wobbly roller coaster. Despite that, she slid to her feet in one slow, sensual motion. His cinnamon-brown eyes blurred as she stepped forward. Heat flared between them, the same heat that had lured her from interested to obsessive so long ago.

Then, so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined the desire, he blinked and the look switched to simple curiosity. Belle had to fight to keep her smile in place. Damn him, that’s how he’d always twisted her into knots. One second she’d been sure he was hot for her, the next he had total control.

Not this time.

Instead of the expected move, another step closer so she was in body-heat distance of him, Belle shifted her weight. Her hip to one side, she lifted a shoulder and gave a flutter of her lashes.

“Well?” she asked.

Mitch just arched one brow. His shoulders, she noted, were stiff, as though he was preparing himself. For what? she wondered. A handshake, a hug or, even worse, a big sloppy kiss.

She was tempted. But lurking behind that polite curiosity in his eyes was something edgier. Perhaps he was just waiting to verbally rip into her. Instead of intimidating her, that just added to the excitement.

“Well, what?”

Some insane impulse urged Belle to blurt out an apology. To tell him how sorry she was for the pain she must have caused. To confess her immaturity, her lack of consideration. Luckily, nerves trapped the words in her throat.

“Did you miss me?” she asked instead. Getting Mitch to deal with her, to give her the contract and with it the opening to butter him up so he’d help her father, was going to be hard enough. Why throw fuel on the flames? Especially when she was much more interested in starting a whole new fire.

“About as much as I miss the Macarena,” he shot back.

Belle snickered. Then, unable to help herself, she laid her hand on his forearm. “It is good to see you again.”

Eyes narrowed, he glanced down at her hand, then back at her face. With a shrug, he gave a half smile and jerk of his chin. Only an optimist would call it a nod. Belle, being a glass-half-full kind of gal, took heart.

“Why are you here?”

“Right to the point, hmm?” Belle used the seconds it took her to return to her seat to take a deep breath. Control was crucial here. She had to play it just right.

With that in mind, she leaned back against the soft leather and gave Mitch a warm smile.

“I’ve got something you need,” she told him.

“I’ll pass,” he responded instantly. “I tried to get it once before and look how that worked out.”

Belle hid her wince. Whether the pain in her chest was from a singed ego or her bruised heart she didn’t know.

“Maybe you were using the wrong inducement.”

“Obviously,” he said. Apparently resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to explain her presence until she was good and ready, he moved around his desk to take a seat.