Two to Tangle

But for now, her mother was again happily unemployed, throwing herself into her latest artistic endeavor: ceramic lawn ornaments. And then again, there was her most recent romantic relationship, with a guy she’d met at a health food store.

Whenever the money got too tight, her mother would wistfully bring up Morgan’s college account, but Chloe had made her promise they wouldn’t touch it. No way was she going to let her brilliant sister miss out on any educational opportunity provided to her. Jeanine had, despite the gleam in her eye when she looked at the bank statement, agreed.

So for now it was again up to Chloe to support her mother and younger sister as best she could. If she could handle this night job until the end of the year, she’d be able to graduate by Christmas and maybe have a good-paying, full-time position by the New Year—just in time to sock away the rest of the money she’d need to send Morgan to school the following fall.

The connections she could make on this trip might help that wish come true. But Jess was also right—she could definitely use a couple of days lounging by a pool at a pricey resort.

“Maybe you’ll meet some fab man who’ll make you forget all your problems.”

Chloe shrugged. “I’m beginning to think there’s no such thing as a fab man.” She dropped her chin into her palm. “The young, gorgeous, carefree ones only seem to want one thing. The older, responsible, successful ones are either taken or impossibly arrogant. The older carefree ones are usually gay.”

“What about the young, responsible, successful ones,” Jess said eagerly.

Chloe snorted. “Like Troy Langtree.”

“I get your point.” Jess sighed. “He gives new meaning to the word ‘stiff.”’ As if just hearing the sexy underlying meaning in her comment, her friend covered her lips with her fingers and began to giggle uncontrollably.

Chloe felt a flush rise in her cheeks. “He’s not what I’m searching for. A guy who can hold down a job would be wonderful—but he has to at least be able to laugh at a good joke. I’ve never seen Troy Langtree crack a smile that wasn’t prompted somehow by finances or sales figures.”

“Well, you’re right in terms of here at work,” Jess said, thoughtfully tapping her finger on her cheek. “But I’ve been here a few months longer than you, and I have heard rumors about his after-hour activities. He might not actually be the conservative, respectable man he pretends to be here at work. Away from the store, he may not be exactly what he seems.”

Chloe knew better than most that he wasn’t what he seemed. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen him after hours in two weeks. “There are days when he’s so stuffy, I can’t picture him taking off his six-hundred-dollar suit even to barbecue in his backyard.” Unless, of course, he’s changing a tire!

“But I think I’d be able to overlook a lot of arrogance to come home to a man who looks like that every night.”

Chloe didn’t reply. Troy had been on her mind enough already; she didn’t need to start talking about him to another man-hungry woman.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky this weekend,” Jess continued. “Maybe the rumor mill is right and he’s a different man outside the store. He might just sweep you off your feet during the conference.”

Chloe dropped a long, ivory-colored plastic leg onto her right foot, then hissed and hunched over in pain. “What are you talking about?” she finally managed to gasp. Wincing, she hobbled over to her desk and leaned against it to take her weight off her squashed toes.

“Well, you know, he’s going to be there, too.”

“No he’s not. This meeting is more for marketers, buyers, and P.R. types. Not store owners.”

Jess raised a perfectly plucked, heavily penciled eyebrow. “Yes, Chloe, of course he is. He goes every year. Besides, I heard him talking to his secretary about it this afternoon. I was trying to get him to sample some new Pico cologne, which, by the way, is so sweet and flowery, if I went out with a guy who was wearing it, I’d be checking for bra straps.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Get back to Troy.”

“He’s going to the conference, too. You didn’t know?”

She shook her head. “I had no idea. Is he going to be staying there? At the same hotel?”

“Well, sure.” A smile crossed Jess’s face as she obviously noticed Chloe’s consternation. “Oh, so you have noticed him and you are interested, hmm?”

“Noticed, yeah. But I’m not interested. Like I said, he’s not my type.”

“Not your type for the long-term, maybe,” Jess said, obviously warming up to her subject. She leaned closer, conspiratorially. “But why not have a sexy little fling while you’re both out of town?”

“A sexy little fling? I don’t do sexy little flings.” My mother is the sexy little fling person in my family. “And I seriously doubt Troy Langtree does, either.”

“Just because you haven’t doesn’t mean you can’t,” Jess said. “Isn’t it time to give yourself a break? Indulge in something delicious for a change? Okay, you know you and the stuffy one have nothing in common and couldn’t possibly get seriously involved. So what? Nothing to stop you from getting mindless and fabulous in bed with him for a night or two.”

Chloe tried to close her ears. What Jess suggested was simply impossible. Even if she was willing, Troy Langtree had never given her any indication he was attracted to her.

“Heck, I’d seduce him in a heartbeat if he appeared the least bit interested,” Jess continued. “Unfortunately, judging by the women I’ve heard he’s dated, I suspect he likes curvy, stacked bundles—like you—rather than stick-thin Amazons like me. Why don’t you stop by the makeup counter on your way out and I’ll get you some samples for this weekend?”

“Forget it,” Chloe said with a snort. “This is about business, not pleasure. I’m not going to get personal with Troy Langtree, the managing director of this store.”

Of course, if Troy Langtree the pagan tire changer shows up, I might just be persuaded.

“Okay, suit yourself,” Jess said as she stood and prepared to leave the office. “But remember, if you keep putting off finding Mr. Right until after you finish school and get your mother and sister taken care of, you might find he’s already married…or old and in need of Viagra!”

IN SPITE OF THE MERCILESS Friday afternoon sun sizzling against the bare skin on his back, Trent Langtree decided to go for one more walk of the resort grounds before calling it quits for the day. He’d been on-site since daybreak; it was now five. A long day, but a productive one. This job was definitely worth some long days—to Trent and to all his crew. Besides, long, hard days outside were still better than working in the family-owned department store like his twin brother Troy did.

The $200,000 job at the Dolphin Island Resort and Country Club was the biggest project his three-year-old landscaping company had ever landed and he was being damned ruthless in making sure it went off without a hitch. His workers weren’t complaining too much about the long hours and demand for perfection. They knew as well as he how much was at stake with this job. And every one of them had a bonus riding on the outcome.

The stakes were even higher for Trent. The money would be nice, would keep the company in the black for a while. But even more important was the exposure and future clientele this work could bring in. The success of his company, The Great Outdoors, depended upon breaking into the upper-crust south Florida market.

“You could do that with a few phone calls,” Jason, his most reliable crew foreman, liked to tell him. True. A few calls to his former friends and colleagues would probably bring in all the exclusive work The Great Outdoors could handle. But Trent didn’t want it that way.

When he’d walked out of his grandmother’s house, he’d told her he’d make it on his own—without the family name, or business, to prop him up. She hadn’t been happy, but Trent had refused to back down. Her pleas and tears hadn’t changed his mind; certainly her threats hadn’t.

Trent loved the old woman, and the rest of the family, but he’d given them five years of his adult life trying to do things their way. Five years of wearing suits to work. Five years of going to meetings, trying to care about the buyers’ predictions for the spring lines so the family-owned department store, Langtree’s, would keep bringing in the almighty dollar.

Five years knowing he would never be happy doing what his family wanted him to do.

Trent had even gone by the store one rainy, miserable night a few weeks ago, just to remind himself of what was at stake. Like a bad omen, he’d ended up with a flat tire, which had amused his brother Troy to no end when he’d told him about it the next day at a family gathering. Troy had quipped that Grandmother probably set out the nails intentionally to trap Trent in the parking lot. When Trent had admitted he’d ended his tire changing with a refreshing bare-chested shower in the rain right outside the front windows of the store, his grandmother had not been amused. Then again, his grandmother was seldom amused by anything except sales and promotions.

Troy was cut out for that life. Troy liked the conservative, responsible atmosphere. He liked order and schedule and deadlines. Troy liked wearing ties to work, for God’s sake! He definitely liked the money, which enabled him to keep up with the constant succession of women in his life.

Trent liked the heat of the sun on his back. Its blinding light in his eyes. The sound of the wind whipping palm trees during a storm. The lap of waves rolling onto a deserted beach and the smell of freshly cut grass on a summer afternoon. He liked his hands in the earth.

None of which made him the least bit qualified to take his place in the family business. All of which made his new venture—a landscaping company—his dream job.

No one had really understood. Not his grandmother, nor his retired parents. Not Troy. Certainly not Jennifer, the woman he’d thought loved him. His devoted fiancée. She’d worn his ring for less than twenty-four hours after he told her he was leaving the family business to “cut grass.”

“Some things are better discovered early on,” he muttered aloud. Like that your fiancée was a money-grubbing social climber who would go after your twin brother as soon as she realized you weren’t going to be keeping her in Mercedes convertibles.

His broken engagement had been one of life’s interesting lessons. He’d cared at first. Not anymore. He liked his life now, liked waking up in the morning and facing the day of honest work ahead. Trent planned to keep doing exactly that. But only if he could make it pay—and soon. His grandmother wasn’t going to be put off forever.

“Until your thirtieth birthday,” she’d said. “If you’re not a complete financial success by then, promise me you’ll come back to the store.”

And, like an idiot, he had. He’d even signed a legally binding document to that effect. Three years ago, feeling like he’d explode from frustration if he had to sit through one more meeting with buyers and managers, he’d have agreed to just about anything. Now, with his thirtieth birthday—and his promised deadline—looming just weeks away, Trent was feeling the pressure.

This job could make him. It could also, however, break him. Considering the per-day penalty for late completion, and the narrow profit margin he’d budgeted in order to get the work, he knew there was no room for error.

As he walked over the newly sodded area his crew had installed earlier, Trent glanced up and saw heavy, late afternoon clouds rolling in. Typical. He inhaled, sniffing the electric scent of the stormy sky, liking it, knowing the newly planted grass would soak up the moisture and take root in the soil. He sucked in a deep breath of ocean air, cooled by the impending storm, and smiled, savoring the elements.

But standing outside near a Florida beach during a thunderstorm wasn’t exactly wise. Waving goodbye to his crew, who’d loaded the last of the trucks and were preparing to depart for the day, Trent turned and dashed toward the main building of the hotel. Thankfully, he’d booked a room for himself for the weekend. He had important meetings scheduled with the contractor in charge of the new wing under construction, and he also wanted to personally supervise the critical work his crew had done on the side lawn. He planned to spend a few days here, on-site, for quality control. The resort had even picked up the tab for his room, a real surprise given the previously miserly attitude of the general manager.

Since he’d sunk every penny he had into his business for the past few years, Trent had no money for vacations or ritzy hotels. Not that this was a vacation—it was definitely going to be a work weekend. Still, there were worse places to work than a lush resort with golf courses, pools, spas, and hundreds of yards of pristine Florida beach.

As thick plops of rain fell from the sky, another flash of lightning cracked overhead. Trent reached the pool courtyard which overlooked the beach. The area was nearly deserted, most of the hotel guests probably having dashed inside as soon as the thick storm clouds had begun rolling in off the ocean.

One person remained.

“Crazy woman,” Trent muttered as he watched a curly-haired brunette languorously rise from a lounge chair on the far side of the pool. Apparently oblivious to the metallic taste in the air, the drops of moisture beginning to reach the ground and the rumbling of thunder in the distance, the woman didn’t even begin to fold her brightly colored beach towel. Instead, she turned toward the ocean, which roiled and churned a few dozen yards off the pool deck.

Trent watched her, noting the pronounced curviness of her body in the skimpy coal-black bikini she wore. “Nice,” he murmured, liking the line of her hips flaring below a small waist, and the smooth, tanned legs and back. Her thick, curly mop of light-brown hair was clasped loosely at the nape of her neck and fell to just below her shoulders.

He suddenly wondered what color her eyes were. And whether, as she stared at the churning ocean and the heavy gray skies, she was smiling.

“You’d better come in before the storm gets worse,” someone called. Trent glanced over to see a pool boy stacking chairs under a covered awning. He’d obviously been speaking to the woman, but she paid no attention. Instead, as Trent watched, she spread her arms out to her sides, dropped her head back, and lifted her face to the sky.

Trent watched, fascinated, wondering who she was, and, more important, why he found her so appealing when he had never even seen her face.

Then she turned, slowly, as if loathe to gather her things and go inside. From the other side of the pool, she noticed him. Her eyes met his. And she smiled the most gloriously joyful smile he’d ever seen in his life.

2

CHLOE DIDN’T KNOW HOW, didn’t know why, but as she stared toward the other side of the pool, she knew she’d found her pagan again. Troy stood shirtless, wearing only tight, dusty jeans, watching her from a covered area near a closed outdoor bar. His stare was intensely curious, and she almost reached out a hand, crazily wanting to invite him to dance with her in the rain.

However, when another sharp bolt of lightning ripped the sky, followed almost immediately by a loud crack of thunder, she decided that wasn’t such a great idea. As she bent to gather her things, she knew without looking that he’d come over to help. The storm wouldn’t intimidate him at all.

Then he was there, retrieving her book, lotion and sunglasses, and shoving them into her beach bag. Chloe didn’t even have time to yank on her beach cover-up before Troy grabbed her by the arm and tried to tug her toward the building.

“Next to a pool isn’t the best place to be during a thunderstorm,” he said, his voice raised over the wind that had whipped up into a frenzy in the past few moments.

Chloe nodded agreement, stopping only to grab her sandals before dashing with him toward the hotel entrance. She was not a bit surprised to see the laughter on his lips as they burst into the building just as the rain turned torrential.

“We made it in the nick of time.” He shook his head hard, sending droplets of water from his hair against her already wet face, throat and chest. The contact was innocent, yet somehow intimate.

As he pushed back his thick, damp hair, Chloe caught a glimpse of something gold on his earlobe and realized for the first time that he wore a small pierced earring. She would never in a million years have guessed such a thing about Troy Langtree—she’d certainly never seen him wear it at work! Now, all she could think was how interesting it might be to nibble the bit of flesh beneath the gold stud. To tug on it with her teeth. To touch it with her tongue.

She shuddered.

“You okay?”

She nodded, still panting for breath. They both leaned against the papered wall of the hotel hallway inside the glass door. “I’m fine, thanks,” Chloe finally managed to say. “I like storms. If it weren’t for the lightning, I’d love to go down to the beach right now.”

He nodded. “Feeling the strong, salty wind.”

“Hearing the pounding surf.”

“Getting the ocean taste in your mouth and feeling certain you’ve never breathed richer air.”

“Sounds heavenly,” she said with a sigh.

“Most people would think we’re crazy.” Then he laughed at himself. “But I have been called worse. How about a rain check? When there’s no lightning.”

“I’d like that.”

As her ragged breathing returned to normal, Chloe paused to glance at him, and found herself face to collarbone with his amazing male chest. All bare. All flat and tanned and toned. He was broad in the shoulders, powerful across the chest, narrow and lean at the waist. Chloe caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she let her gaze travel lower, to the swirl of dark, curling hair on his muscled belly, until it disappeared into the waistband of his tight, wet jeans.

Exactly how long has it been since I’ve had sex?

She finally shook her head to clear her mind of all the erotic images invading it. Struggling for nonchalance, she risked one more glance at his bare chest. “Lose your shirt?”

He obviously noticed her staring. He smiled, a devastating, flirtatious smile she’d never once beheld on Troy Langtree’s lips. Her heart skipped a few more beats, as much from his smile as from the intensity in those emerald-green eyes of his.

“Too hot outside. Of course, you’re not exactly dressed either.”

She followed his warm stare and glanced down at her body. Her bikini top, which had seemed almost modest in comparison to some she’d seen out by the pool earlier, now seemed too tight. The curves of her breasts pushed high above the fabric, rising and falling as she took deeper breaths. Her skin puckered with gooseflesh in the air-conditioned hallway. There was no mistaking the tightness of her nipples, right below the edge of her top.

Returning her attention to him, she saw Troy’s much-too-kissable lips part and his eyes narrow as he continued to study her. Chloe nearly shuddered. “I didn’t have a chance to put on my cover-up,” she whispered.

He slowly shook his head. “Don’t bother on my account.”

She should. She knew she should. She was holding the darn thing in her fingertips; it would be easy enough to slip it on over her nearly naked, cold and damp body.

But Chloe couldn’t move. Couldn’t lift her hand. Couldn’t keep a single coherent thought in her head. Troy’s gaze moved higher, zeroing in on her face—her lips. He’s going to kiss me.

“At the risk of sounding like a jerk with a pickup line, I have to tell you something. You have a great smile.”

Smile? Yeah, like the moronic one she wore right now at the mental image of him dragging her into his arms and pressing that amazing mouth onto hers. Just the thought of feeling this man’s arms around her, his hands on her waist, his tongue dancing with her own, and she went weak-legged and brainless.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Then she tried to make a joke, tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere by referring to his normally reserved attitude. “So do you. Though, I certainly have never seen very much of it.”

A hotel employee, the one who’d been stacking lounge chairs before the storm, walked toward them in the long, silent corridor. Chloe took a quick step back, trying to pull herself away mentally, as well as physically, from Troy’s strong, sensual lure. She glanced around, but her eyes kept returning to him. His tanned, handsome face. The curve of his lips. The line of his jaw. The perfection of his bare torso. Even his hands. His hands! Why have I never noticed the strength of his hands?

“I guess I should go back to my room and change for the dinner banquet,” Chloe finally managed to whisper as she noticed the amused, appraising glance they got from the passing pool boy.

“Meet me later. After your banquet.”

She shouldn’t. Something was happening here that had nothing to do with the store, or the retailers’ conference. This was elemental, like the storm tossing the awning around outside. She should stop, back up, take a deep breath and remember what was important. School, job and family. Not a man. Not a gorgeous, to-die-for man who took her breath away.

She nodded. “Okay.” Then she widened her eyes. Who said that? Chloe, you idiot.

“In the bar? At ten?”

Still having a mental argument over the stupidity of her actions, Chloe murmured, “I’ll be there.”

“Then it’s a date.”

A date? A date with the managing director? The guy who could toss you out on your rear at a moment’s notice? Are you insane?

Maybe. But, damn, insanity had never felt so good.

Catching sight of the face of her waterproof watch, Chloe gasped at the time. “I have to go,” she said. “Don’t you, too?”

He raised a quizzical brow.

“I’ll see you in a little while,” she said, not waiting for his reply. Chloe clutched her bag close to her chest, turned and hurried away toward the elevator, fighting against her urge to look back at him one more time.

It didn’t matter. Whether she looked back or not, she knew he watched her every step of the way. The excitement coursing through her body was all the proof she needed of that.

As she punched the button for the elevator, she found herself softly repeating Jess’s words. “Mindless and fabulous.”

TRENT DIDN’T REALIZE until after the curvy brunette boarded the elevator that he hadn’t learned her name. He chuckled, knowing he’d probably appeared as besotted as a teenager. But she’d agreed to meet him anyway. Later tonight he’d find out her name. Her name—not to mention everything else about her.

Though he’d been hit by a bolt of attraction watching her from behind as she stared at the stormy sky, Trent was even more interested now that he’d seen the rest of her. Her curly mane of light-brown hair surrounded a soft, heart-shaped face with blue eyes he thought he could get lost in. Her laughter, her obvious joy in the elements, her sense of humor—all intrigued him.

And the woman did some damn fine things to a black bikini.

Yes. This weekend of work was definitely looking up. After all, there wasn’t much landscaping to be done after six o’clock at night. He had tonight and tomorrow night all to himself. To get to know her a lot better.

Trent couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt as instantly attracted to a woman as he had today. It had been ages since he’d had the time to even date, much less get involved with someone. His business had been a twenty-four/seven commitment since the day he’d started it. Funny how having to pay rent for the first time in his life had made work more important than anything else.

He refused to think his broken engagement was the reason he hadn’t allowed himself to get more than passingly interested in a woman in the past three years. Sex, yeah. That was easily available. But someone he actually wanted to get to know? Well, that hadn’t happened in a long time.