Caribbean Nights with the Tycoon Page 2

  Luna was still wearing her hat and sunglasses but he could see she was a willowy beauty, tall and very slim. Her floral cotton dress was hardly what he’d have expected a client of M’s to be wearing, as the agency catered to a population that likely shopped at the world’s most select boutiques. After they stood facing each other in a silence that became excruciating, he finally asked, “Did I notice that you speak Spanish?”

  “Enough to get by, más o menos.”

  “When did you learn?”

  “I studied it in school. Living in Los Angeles, where there are a lot of different languages spoken, gives me a chance to stay in practice.”

  “Los Angeles? Didn’t you say you arrived here from Kentucky?” That seemed a bit suspect to him. He’d been to the States enough times to know that Kentucky was quite different from California.

  “I, uh... My permanent home is Los Angeles. I’ve spent some prolonged time in Kentucky that’s now come to an end.” If that had been an attempt to clear up the confusion, her tone suggested the opposite.

  She removed her hat and sunglasses, allowing him to see her in full for the first time. Sun-kissed blond locks cascaded past her shoulders in waves, framing her face. And such a pretty face it was, with big blue eyes, flawless skin and perfectly bowed lips. It looked as if she was without makeup, another thing that surprised him given M’s reputation for attracting the polished crème de la crème from every corner of the globe. Charlie actually quite liked that she appeared so natural. It reminded him of a casual comfort he used to know, and something he missed so much the tears he thought had finally dried up threatened to reappear.

  Now that he saw Luna’s full face and hair, the sense that he knew her nagged at him again.

  He realized he was staring when she broke in and asked, “Do you speak any Spanish yourself?”

  “To order in a restaurant, maybe. I suppose I’ll need your assistance this week.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She licked her lips in what seemed like a nervous response. It was quite inappropriate that he found the move sensual, but he wished she would do it again.

  He looked out to the blue water and clean sand, which was visible from throughout the villa. “Well, these surroundings could hardly be lovelier.”

  “Yes. I don’t know anything about Puerto Rico.”

  “It’s interesting that Madison doesn’t tell the participants where their destination will be.”

  “Yes, my friend and stylist, Anush, made all the arrangements. She knew about the agency.” Ah, she had a stylist. That sounded more like M’s clientele. Although she made a point of calling her a friend, too. That didn’t seem like the behavior of any of the upper crust he’d ever known.

  “Similarly, my COO, Tom, handled the details on my end.” Blather seemed the only option. He was so out of practice in spending social time with a woman—with anyone really—that he didn’t know what to talk about. And she wasn’t helping any, giving short answers as her eyes glanced all around the villa. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him. He wondered what criteria Madison used for her matchmaking. Did she look for people who were opposite types from each other, or ones that were more alike? Because something beyond the comely features of Luna’s face told him that she might have as many demons to battle as he did. “Let me try to reach Madison and sort out this lodging situation.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket but the call went to voice mail so he left a message and then sent a text. “We’ll have to wait for someone to get back to us.” He opened his carry-on bag and took out his laptop.

  “What sort of business are you in?”

  “I have a biotech company.”

  “Would I have heard of it?”

  “AMgen. We’re mainly in the UK and Europe.”

  “AMgen. Well, of course, I’ve heard of it. Hasn’t everyone? Charlie. Right. I think I read an article about you in a magazine. Charlie Matthews.”

  “Yes.”

  A magazine. Was that where he’d seen a photo of her, as well? Madison had mentioned that public figures needing the utmost discretion often used her service. Luna? Luna? It hit him like a ton of bricks. “Luna! Of course. You’re Luna Price! I’ve seen some of your movies.”

  * * *

  Juan Carlos must have taken the tropical breeze with him when he left because the air had gone still. Luna knew she was imagining it, as she could see the glorious palm trees swaying outside of the villa. It was just the finality that she, Charlie, this resort and Puerto Rico were going to be a unit for the next week. And now he’d recognized her. It was one thing to agree to this adventure in theory and quite another to be standing in the middle of it.

  “While I understand that Madison works with a very select clientele, I somehow wasn’t expecting a movie star.” He said it as if he was aggravated.

  “Sorry to disappoint.” She shrugged snidely.

  Now that he’d placed her, here it came. Once people knew she was Luna Price, film actress, everything seemed to change. They gushed all over her and stumbled over their words, and started treating her as if she was some kind of otherworldly creature who didn’t bleed red or have the same ten fingers and ten toes they did. While, at the same time, they examined her as if she was a product that they had to decide if it was worth spending their money on or not. Luna was, of course, grateful for the life of privilege her fame had brought her, but deep inside it never got easier to be constantly measured and judged.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Charlie retorted. “I’m just a bit shocked.”

  Although she’d been on dozens of film sets, where she’d had to meet cast and crew members for the first time, and had interacted with hundreds of fans, the ineptness she was feeling now was somehow different. Maybe because Charlie Matthews appeared to have a distant and absolute power. Since people usually fumbled all over her, the dynamic wasn’t something she was used to.

  “So we’ve established it then,” she spat out. “I’m an actress and you’re a tech genius.”

  “Genius. Yes.” He snickered.

  “And here we are.” Ugh, Luna couldn’t think of a time when she’d felt more off-kilter. She and tall, handsome, prickly Charlie Matthews were to spend seven nights alone together? She’d just like to get through the next five minutes. “I assume that Madison explained to you that I’m not using her services to find a long-term romantic match.”

  “Neither am I.” She couldn’t snap that out fast enough.

  “I’m only seeking a sort of transitional week of rejuvenation.”

  “Exactly. Transitional.” How were they going to begin that promised relaxation? Luna’s shoulders felt as tense as coils.

  “Which is why it doesn’t make sense that she booked us a place with only one bed.”

  “No insult intended but I’m not comfortable with that.”

  “I understand completely.”

  His eyes met hers but then ricocheted around the lounging area of the villa, as if he was trying to fix on something other than her.

  She decided to break the stalemate. “I’ve never been to the Caribbean. Have you?”

  “No. Do you travel a lot for your films?”

  “A fair amount shoot right in LA. Others in Canada. And then for a few others I’ve gone on location.”

  “That must be exciting.”

  “It has its moments. I’ve been very lucky.”

  She wasn’t ready to tell him yet that the first movie she was going to shoot after a year off was starting up right after this week in Puerto Rico. Or why that was so. Although she had a strange sensation that she and Charlie might get to know each other this week more than she had anticipated. There was something about him she couldn’t put her finger on that made her feel she might want to genuinely talk to him, and listen. He had a sort of seriousness that she liked. She
might need to keep reminding herself that this was no time to get caught up in someone. She was taking care of herself now and was nowhere near being willing to trust someone—she might never be. But each time his eyes shot away, her desire increased to have them back. There was a lot of story behind his green orbs—of that much she was certain.

  “What sort of travel do you typically do?” she asked, continuing to chat, her breath easing. “Oh, and shall we have a cold drink?”

  Juan Carlos had mentioned that the villa was fully stocked. They stepped over to a bar area that was done in rich woods with a bamboo ceiling fan overhead. Both of them were careful not to move too near to each other. Atop the marble counter were clear cylinders filled with juices that had slices of fresh fruit floating in them. Behind the bar was a coffee setup, with beans and teas from around the world. There was a wide array of rums. Luna recalled once reading that Puerto Rico was famous for its rum production. There were other spirits and liquors, too, from tequila to gin to aged scotch. All sorts of sodas and mixers were visible through the bar refrigerator’s glass doors as were at least a half-dozen bottles of top-of-the-line champagne, along with a visible compartment that displayed gallons of ice cubes ready to help chill the hot August day.

  Luna knew that she was nervous and, as such, took such a scrupulous inventory of the beverages. She resisted moving on to the open kitchen area, where gourmet and local food and snacks were bound to be overflowing. Being around a lot of food was potentially challenging for her, so she’d have to be diligent about the techniques she used to keep from reverting to old behaviors. She squelched the bubbling feeling in her stomach that served as a warning sign.

  “Those juices look inviting,” Charlie decided after glancing over the options.

  “Yes, one is guava and the other is orangelo, a combination of orange and pomelo,” Luna informed him as she read the scripted cards placed in front of each canister.

  “Pomelo is similar to grapefruit. That sounds like a refreshing blend. Would you like some over ice?” He took the lead and selected two tall glasses that had the resort’s logo etched on them.

  “Gracias.”

  The corner of his mouth ticked up. When he had said he’d need her assistance this week because she spoke a bit of Spanish, a squiggle had crept up her spine. She’d been able to keep any expression from registering in her face, being an actress and all. But the idea of Charlie obliged to her in any way shocked her with possibility. Made her think of people who relied on each other, who finished each other. Who had the kind of real-life connection that Luna only knew how to act out in front of a camera.

  Charlie Matthews was probably not beholden to anything or anyone. Luna noted to herself that she’d better not allow even a moment of fantasizing that this weeklong dip into the waters of dating was anything else. It already seemed that was going to be harder than it sounded with Charlie. His stoic posture, with that straight torso, was already making her think about being in his embrace. Her head against his no-doubt taut and solid chest. She even imagined what her lips might feel like against his. She was sure his would be firm yet alive. Shaking her head a bit, she snapped out of that thinking, almost ready to laugh at her own imagination. Wow, she hadn’t been alone with a man in a long time.

  “The chef is coming by to serve dinner at eight?” he asked, already knowing the answer because it was written on an information note left on the bar. “It’s after five now. Shall we enjoy the juice while we familiarize ourselves with the villa and then perhaps have a rest? It’s been a long day of travel.”

  Bartender Charlie moved behind the bar and filled each glass halfway with ice, then poured the orangelo drink. It was already delicious, and she hadn’t even tasted it. The juice didn’t look half-bad, either.

  She moved closer to him, although with the bar between them, it was as if he was the server and she the customer. But when he handed her the drink and their fingers brushed, the playacting ended there. It brought her body to attention. The touch of Charlie’s fingers as he handed her the ice-cold drink felt like a key to a door that she didn’t know was locked.

  CHAPTER TWO

  JUICE IN HAND, Charlie gestured for Luna to follow him so that they could further explore the villa’s features. He’d mentioned taking a rest afterward and as soon as he’d said it, the vibrations around them changed, as if they both realized the implications of sharing this space. Charlie hadn’t spent time anywhere with anyone in a long while and had spooked even himself with the thought of them resting together under the same roof. As they strolled from the airy and opulent living and dining areas toward the gigantic master bedroom, the realization that the sleeping arrangements were still unresolved pounded between his ears.

  “That has to be the biggest bed I’ve ever seen,” Luna quipped. She followed with a quick sip of her drink, which she gripped tightly with both hands as if it was a security blanket. With the walls retracted in the bedroom and the warm wind flowing through, locks of her hair floated a little bit this way and that way. Charlie was sure they would be like spun silk to the touch. Low in his belly, a charge ignited, one that had been dormant for as long as he could remember. No, that wasn’t true. He remembered exactly when that part of him had turned to ash.

  The bed had four wooden posts and was made up with colorful bedding, some in a bright red floral fabric and others in a muted green-leaf design. Two low armchairs flanked a round table—it served as a sitting area and was positioned to view the private courtyard secluded by tall hedges. In the center of the courtyard, a table and chairs sat next to a Spanish fountain. Off to the side was a sparkling swimming pool, with everything fully enclosed for use by only the two of them. Charlie had stayed in deluxe accommodations all over the world but this had to be the most lavish.

  “You’ll sleep in here, of course.” Given Juan Carlos’s report that there were no other vacancies on the property, he felt the need to reassure Luna. “If we don’t change to another setup.”

  “A romantic hideaway all to myself. How ironic.”

  “You might enjoy the amenities.” This was no easier on him than it was on her.

  “Yes, I will. Thank you. I just meant... I don’t know what I meant.” Her lips, glistening from the juice, took another sip. “Since Madison knew we weren’t interested in being...physical, it’s interesting that she chose this for us.”

  “I counted six overstuffed sofas throughout that immense living-room area. I’m sure any one of them will make a comfortable bed.”

  “So...you plan to sleep in the living room?”

  “If need be. Surely we’re not going to sleep in the same bed.” That came out harsher than he’d intended. Luna’s head leaned back, as if she was dodging the words. Ironic romantic getaway, indeed. He was busy telling one of the world’s most beautiful actresses that, under no circumstances, was he going to lie down beside her.

  They moved on to the expertly appointed master bathroom and then the kitchen, with its top-of-the-line appliances. After inspecting everything, Luna said, “Juan Carlos explained when I arrived that we’ll have a personal chef bring our meals or prepare them here.”

  “Yes, that’s why I had suggested that we both rest a bit and then dress for dinner. Although since we’re eating alone, should it be casual attire?” Charlie was again reminded that he didn’t know how to act around a woman in an informal setting, and the impending dinner was feeling like a challenge. He was so out of practice communicating with someone unless it was about work. In fact, there’d only ever been one woman he’d cared to behave properly around, and with her everything had been natural and easy. He was the boss to a large staff of employees, but knew how to keep himself at a distance. His entire inventory of social manners needed an overhaul.

  “Casual sounds great,” Luna replied.

  * * *

  A couple of hours later, Charlie sat up from where he was lying on the sofa when he heard
a voice at the villa’s entrance. “Senor, it’s Chef Diego here, may I come in?” Charlie rubbed his face with his open palms. He hadn’t been woken up by the chef’s call, because Charlie didn’t sleep...ever. But he’d surprised himself. With the mild afternoon and the sound of waves ebbing and flowing at the shore, he’d achieved a meditation that had transported him out of consciousness. As he stood, he began to tuck his shirt back into his trousers, but then, on impulse, decided not to.

  “Yes, Chef. Come in.”

  Diego wheeled a cart into the villa, and was followed by another staffer with a second cart who left after his delivery.

  Luna strode out of the bedroom. She must have heard that their visitor had arrived. “Ah, you’re ahead of me,” Charlie said, pointing to her change of clothes.

  “The rainforest shower is just marvelous.” Charlie would follow suit after the meeting with the chef and absolutely refused to imagine Luna naked in the shower in the meantime.

  “You look beautiful.” He hadn’t really meant to do more than think that sentiment, but he hadn’t been able to censor himself in time.

  Luna was a sight for sore eyes. She wore a long, straight midnight blue dress, as simple as could be. It fell like a column down her tall narrow body. She looked even more stunning than she had earlier in her sundress earlier. She was very slim, with neither womanly hips or large breasts. With those shiny blond waves loose around her enchanting face, and barefoot, she was the picture of unaffected beauty. It was still hard to reckon that she was a glamorous movie star who wore designer gowns to awards shows and diamonds from the world’s most famous jewelers. Here, in this private retreat, she was unrecognizable. Which was apparently how she wanted it.

  “I didn’t know how to pack for this trip to an unknown destination. So I brought a little of everything.”

  “Senor and senorita, it will be my pleasure to be your dining manager while you are with us at Dorada. It was indicated on your reservation that both of you are interested in sampling the flavors of Puerto Rico. Is that correct?”