He cocked his head to one side and smiled. “That depends on the company.”
“So, this full-on assault of annoying is all for my benefit?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t look at it as annoying, Eve. It’s a purposeful campaign to get your attention.”
I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Well, it worked! It worked so well that if there were any pointy sharp objects within range, you’d be in serious danger.”
“You don’t really mean that Eve. I’m pretty sure that you think I’m charming.” That dimple flashed again, and I had to keep a grip on myself to keep from flinging myself at him. The truth of the matter was that, yes, he was charming. And handsome. And funny. And I just couldn’t afford that kind of distraction.
His hand brushed over the back of mine, causing shivers to go up my arm. Looking deeply into my eyes he leaned in and murmured, “We can get this all straightened out over dinner.”
“That won’t be happening, Jack. I have dinner plans with the Luxe executives tonight to finalize our agreement.”
“I know, Eve, that’s the dinner I’m talking about. I ran into Scott in the hallway, and he invited me. Heckuva guy. I like him. He told me how thrilled he is to be working on this project with you. Oh, and he gave me a certificate for a couple’s spa day at Luxe. Isn’t that awesome?”
Again, I had that feeling that I was in a cart being pulled by runaway horses with no way to steer to avoid the oncoming crash.
I turned away. Fine, if I had no control here, I’d just have to salvage what I could at dinner. “Since you and Scott have such a nice little bromance going, I’ll see you at dinner.”
His grin lit up the room. “Shall I pick you up? You know they’ll expect us to be together.”
What could it hurt? I gave him my room number and said, “6.30. Sharp. I dislike tardiness.”
“I’ll bet you do, Eve.” And with a saucy wink he left the workout room and left me to try to pull myself together.
Chapter 5
Back in my room I was feeling out of sorts. My workout had been cut short, so my schedule was thrown off. I had more free time on my hands than I’d planned on. Plus, I’d missed out on the feel-good chemicals of an intense workout. I was pacing around my room, running through the frustrating encounter with Jack in my mind. He was so high-handed, grabbing my phone! What a jerk. But what a cute, ripped jerk. Oh, my gosh, those arms. If I could have just the arms and do without the annoying personality. I smiled a bit, thinking of a pair of Jack Garcia arm-pillows I could sleep with. Oh, yeah, I could work with that.
Glancing out the French doors at the deck I saw the glitter of the sun’s rays dancing on the pool. Normally, with fair skin I wouldn’t dream of going out in the Arizona sun. That would be a recipe for instant, painful sunburn. But in October, it was much cooler. The locals were starting to bundle up, but for a New Yorker this was dream weather. I could tolerate mid-seventies in a swimsuit. Good thing I’d packed one, just in case. I swiftly changed into my tankini and threw a hotel robe over it. I took my phone, key card, water bottle, sunscreen and towel down to the pool. Since it was the “chilly season,” I had the pool to myself. I picked a chaise chair and laid my gear next to it, considering whether I truly wanted to swim or just soak up the sun. I decided that just relaxing sounded perfect. I set an alarm on my phone in case I fell asleep and closed my eyes.
The sun beating down on me felt nice, warming me up in a way that sweaters and blankets in New York don’t, a bone deep warmth, that had me melting into my chair with relaxation. It was quiet and peaceful with no children squabbling in the pool or other people talking. I figured that when I was thoroughly warm, I’d go into the pool to cool down, swim for a bit, and then go back to my room to change for dinner. Then I heard the distinctive scraping sound of someone dragging a deck chair. Towards me. Oh, no. Please let it not be…peeking underneath my lashes I saw what I dreaded. Of course it was Jack. Perhaps if I pretended to be asleep, he’d leave me alone. I was hopeful. But wrong.
“Eve, you’re going to burn into a French fry if you don’t put on some sunscreen,” he chuckled.
I slowly opened my eyes, taking in his outfit. I’d been preparing to launch an attack at him for bothering me during my quiet time, but when I saw his swim trunks i couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Rather than snug speedos, he’d opted for voluminous swim trunks that had hot pink T-rexes trampling San Francisco, while shooting planes out of the sky with laser vision. I laughed until I had tears running down my face. “Jack, what are you wearing?”
“Aren’t they incredible? I just bought them in the pro shop. I saw them and knew I had to have them, and since I have them, I have to try them out, right? So, I come out here for a quick swim only to find you’d snuck in ahead of me. You are something of a ninja, aren't you, Eve?”
I wiped the tears off my cheeks and shook my head, still chuckling. “Yes, Jack, I’d anticipated your purchase of the most ridiculous swim trunks on the planet, and ninja’d my way to the pool so I could grab the primo spot.”
He smirked and said, “I knew it. Thanks for admitting it.” And then he lowered himself onto the chair he’d positioned next to mine, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He was ridiculous, but at least he didn’t seem to have come here just to antagonize me. I closed my eyes and leaned back also, mimicking his position. Our peaceful camaraderie lasted about thirty seconds before he said in his smooth voice, “I wasn’t joking about the sunscreen, Eve. I’m a native here so it doesn’t bug me, but you’ll be in a world of hurt if you don’t give yourself some protection. Your pale skin doesn’t look like it does well with desert sun. I’d be happy to help you rub some on.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. Rolling toward him and opening my eyes, I saw that sure enough he was grinning. “Would you like me to get you some from the pro shop? I’m pretty sure they stock industrial-sized vats of the stuff.”
“No thank you, Jack. I brought my own and I’m quite capable of putting it on myself.” Although the idea of Jack rubbing me all over with lotion was quite enticing. But I definitely didn’t need the consequences of that.
“Well, I think your pale French ancestors will come and haunt me tonight if I let you get crisped,” he said with a grin. “Hand over the sunscreen.”
“It’s not the French ancestors you have to worry about. It’s the Norwegians. They can carry quite a grudge. And battle axes.” I poured a glob of lotion into my palm and smoothed it over my chest. Jack watched me closely, as if he was my quality control monitor.
“So, you’re half French and half Norwegian? What—did your parents meet up in Denmark and have a fling?”
“Ha, not quite. My father was French, born and raised in Paris. He went on a foreign exchange program for school to Minnesota and met my mother, third generation Norwegian immigrant, and they fell in love. After he graduated, he came back, proposed, and stayed. And that’s where I was born.”
“So how did you come to be raised in Paris?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.
