The Geek's Bad Boy Billionaire Page 7

  “You make them sound like head lice.”

  “Yeah, only worse. Hang on a sec.” Lana’s voice got muffled. “Rusty, come on boy. Don’t sniff that, it’s gross.” Then it became clear again. “Listen, he’s leaving soon and so are you. You know he can’t be trusted, right? So don’t trust him, and whatever you do, don’t fall for him. But there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun before you part ways forever.”

  “I don’t do things like that. I’m not that kind of person.” Even as she said it, Caylee was looking down at her new red dress. What kind of person was she? She didn’t look like the same Caylee who’d boarded the plane to Cairns. But no matter how she changed, she’d never make the mistake of trusting Blake again. It had hurt enough the first time.

  “You’re on a tropical island, with an attractive, dangerous man.” Her sister sounded wistful. “For goodness sake, if you don’t start enjoying yourself, I’m going to fly over there and screw him for you.”

  Caylee shook her head. “No, what I need to do is save my funding, and I can’t afford to get distracted by Blake when there’s so much at stake. Thank you, though. Talking it through has helped me clear some of the confusion from my mind.”

  “So you’re not going to do the wild thing and dish all the gory details afterwards?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Lana snorted. Her bracelets jangled with indignation. “What kind of sister are you?”

  “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a pile of work to do.”

  “Yeah.” The disgust was heavy in Lana’s voice. “Work. That’s all you ever do.”

  …

  Blake sent emails and made several calls, then, in spite of the million things he still had to do to fix up the mess in Indonesia, he headed down to the beach. John and Jenna were holding a rehearsal for their wedding ceremony and they’d asked Blake to be there. They were getting married on the strip of white sand in front of the hotel, near the hotel restaurant. It was the last place he wanted to be, especially with the late afternoon sun beating down and the wedding organizer droning on about who would stand where, and a whole lot of other boring stuff Blake didn’t want to know.

  His part in the wedding, as far as he could tell, was to try not to fidget in the background. John had wanted him as best man, but in order to keep the family peace had ended up giving that role to his brother. Fine by Blake. Only John still wanted him involved, even though Blake had insisted that being a spectator would suit him fine. But no, Blake still had to turn up at the rehearsal so they could tell him where he was to stand during his important job of doing nothing.

  Even the sight of Jenna standing on tiptoe to steal a secret kiss from John—usually a sight that made him smile—reminded him of his last conversation with Caylee. He must have been glowering, because Jenna cast him several sideways looks before suggesting they finish up early.

  “I’ve got things to do anyway.” Jenna kissed John again. “And I think you two guys should go off for some true confessions, so Blake can sort out whatever it is that’s making him look like he wants to kill somebody.” She gave Blake a sweet smile. “When you’re in a better mood, I’ve a favor to ask.”

  “What is it?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll find you later.”

  John clapped him on the back. “Come on, buddy, I’ll buy you a coffee.”

  They went to the restaurant and sat at an outside table close to the sand, underneath a sun umbrella. Several sunburned tourists were at other tables, eating either a very late lunch or an early dinner, and a group of guys were lounging inside at the bar, getting louder with every beer. Once a waiter had brought their coffees, John asked, “So what’s bugging you?”

  “Just someone from my past. She lived next door when we were kids, and now she’s turned up here for a math conference.” He nodded toward a table where a couple of obvious escapees from the conference were sitting. “See those guys with the bad haircuts and pocket calculators? Well, imagine a whole room full of them, and her fitting in like a flower growing out of a pile of gray stones.”

  “A mathematician?” John winked. “You thinking about having a square root?”

  “Ha. No, it’s nothing like that. She’s just…I don’t know. Irritating. Very serious about everything. Not my type.”

  “Pretty?”

  “And then some.”

  “Oh-kay. So she’s smart and gorgeous. But not your type, huh?”

  “She might be if we didn’t have so much history. And if she wasn’t so damn unpredictable. One false move and she gets upset with me. Hell, I never know where I stand with her.” Blake’s hand went down to his leg, and he touched the old scar on his shinbone that she’d been the cause of all those years ago.

  John blinked, his eyebrows rising. “I’ve never heard you talk about a woman like this. Could it be you’ve finally met someone who holds your interest?”

  Blake took a sip of his coffee, then shook his head. “It’s not like you and Jenna. You two actually give me hope that not all relationships are doomed. But Caylee only arrived on the island yesterday and already she’s driving me crazy.”

  “Remember when Jenna and I first met?”

  Blake laughed. “How could I forget those fireworks? All I could do was duck and cover and hope you two managed to fall in love before you killed each other.”

  “See?” John gave him a smug smile. “You and the mathematician sound like a perfect match.”

  “I’m not looking for anything serious. My parents made sure of—”

  “Blake, you’ve got to stop using your parents as a reason to run away from commitment. One day I want to have to suffer through your wedding.”

  “My wedding?” Blake snorted. “Don’t start making plans for it. You know I’m about to go to Indonesia.”

  “So?”

  “So, I can’t get involved with anyone right now, not when I’m about to start another build. I’ll be working twenty hours a day for the next six months at least. There’s no way I’ll have time for a long-distance relationship, and forget flying to the States for romantic weekends. I’m going to be elbow-deep in paperwork and planning.”

  “Can you ask her to wait for you?”

  “Sure. I’ll just say that I’m tied up for a few months, but does she want to hook up sometime next year?”

  “Could work, you never know.” John drained the last of his coffee. “Anyway, I’d better go. Jenna wants me to pick up her annoying relatives from the airport.”

  “Hey,” said Blake as his friend stood up. “What favor does Jenna want from me?”

  John shrugged. “Something to do with the wedding, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. I only hope she’s not going to ask you to give a speech; you know far too many secrets.” His face fell into a worried frown. “You’re not planning on giving a speech, are you buddy? And if you did, you wouldn’t mention that weekend we spent in Vegas, right?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m definitely going to tell that story in front of Jenna and her family. I can’t wait to see Jenna’s face. And I wonder if her father will find it as funny as I do when I get to the bit where you found out that woman was—”

  “You’re a cruel and pitiless man, Blake. You know that, don’t you?”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  Chapter Eight

  Caylee had nearly chickened out of wearing her new black dress for dinner with Blake, but she’d told herself it would be foolish, not to mention a waste of money, to leave it hanging unworn in the closet. She had to wriggle her hips to get it on. Had it really fit that snugly in the store? When she was ready, she braced herself, then turned to face the mirror.

  The not-quite-Caylee reflection stared back at her. Her hair hung loose in its new style, and Blake had been right about Sebastian because it had never looked so good. She was even wearing a different shade of lipstick than the one she normally wore, a deep, rich red that Blake had picked out for her. She hadn’t changed her usual shade in years, but the n
ew one made her lips seem fuller.

  It suited her, that was obvious. Blake and Sebastian had made her beautiful, and she felt like a different person, like she could do anything she wanted, and the old rules didn’t count. But the feeling was a little scary. Did she want to lose herself in this new woman who seemed so unashamedly sexy? She wasn’t sure. It wasn’t that she was shy or embarrassed about her body; on the contrary, she was in good shape from conscientious exercise and eating healthfully. But would the other mathematicians in her department treat her differently because of the way she looked? Would they still take her seriously if she wore a dress and heels?

  Caylee ran her hands over the fabric hugging her hips and sighed. People had always been a mystery to her. Numbers made so much more sense. She tilted up her head, lifting her chin for courage, and gave herself a little nod before opening the bedroom door.

  Here goes nothing.

  There was no mistaking Blake’s reaction as she stepped into the living room. His eyes went wide and he gave a low whistle. “Damn, I’ve got good taste.” His voice was smug as he stepped forward and offered his arm to her, and she couldn’t help but laugh. She’d been afraid he’d still be angry with her, but his manner was as relaxed and easy as ever.

  “You look nice, too.” He wore long pants and a casual short-sleeved shirt that fit him so well it must have been made for him by an Italian designer. His hair was still tousled, but in a tidy way, and his chin was smooth. She’d never seen a man look so effortlessly handsome. Saying he looked nice was as much of an understatement as saying that infinity was a very large number, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that.

  As she took his arm, she had to hide the shiver that ran over her skin. What was it about Blake that made her body react so strongly? It was completely illogical that the feel of his skin under her hand could make her feel unsteady on her feet. And when she caught a whiff of his scent it reminded her of sunshine, although everyone knew the sun didn’t have any smell at all. He confused her senses somehow, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Although, she had to admit, the way his smile flushed her body with a tickly kind of warmth wasn’t totally unpleasant.

  As he led her into the elevator to ride down to the hotel restaurant and the doors closed, his nearness was almost unbearable. Her heart was beating hard and fast and she took several deep breaths, trying to calm it.

  He murmured something, telling her about the restaurant’s chef who was well-known because he’d owned some famous restaurants, but she couldn’t do more than make a polite noise in response. In the small space, everything about him overwhelmed her. Not just his warm scent or his deep, liquid voice, but the masculine way he stood and the tight, hard line of his jaw. No, it was more than that. It felt as though he was giving off some kind of invisible energy that made her blood pump faster and her belly fill with a curling, seething excitement. An energy that confused her thoughts and filled her head with wild imaginings of him pushing her against the wall and running his strong hands over her body.

  She took a deep breath as the elevator shuddered to a stop and the doors opened. Fresh air. Yes, that’s what she needed. Thankfully, he led her outside, and they walked a short distance along the wide, white sand beach that edged this part of the island. Nearby was the restaurant, with its indoor bar area and tables, and some outdoor tables on a paved area overlooking the water. A handful of romantic tables for two were scattered on the sand, near the waves that swooshed gently up and down, making a soft calm music that went only a small way toward settling Caylee’s nerves.

  Blake and the waiter greeted each other by name, and the waiter led them to the table farthest down the beach, in the most romantic spot. Had Blake booked it, or did they just assume he’d want it? Perhaps he brought lots of women here and they held this table for him every night. The waiter probably thought Caylee was just the latest in a long line of Blake’s sexual conquests. She could imagine how the women staying at the resort must throw themselves at him. The thought made her glare at Blake as he sat down next to her, their backs to the restaurant and the blue sea stretching in front of them. Blake had never been short of dates as a teenager. In fact, she’d hated the way the girls in her class had swooned over him.

  He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  Caylee waited until the waiter had bustled away before she asked, “Is this your regular table?”

  “Actually, they hardly ever see me here. I usually have dinner at my desk in the suite. I like to spend as much of my day on the water as I can, so evenings are reserved for work.” He smiled. “But owning this place does give me some perks. When they do see me, they make sure I have the best table. Is that so bad?”

  She was saved from answering by the waiter returning. As the waiter handed Blake a menu, he said in a shy voice, “I owe you my deepest thanks, Mr. Samson.”

  Blake shook his head. “It’s nothing, William.”

  “All my family is very grateful.”

  “You’re most welcome. I’m glad your son’s okay now.” Blake turned to her, looking a little embarrassed. “Caylee, would you like a glass of wine or a cocktail to start?”

  “Wine, please. A glass of red.”

  Blake turned to the waiter. “Bring over a bottle, please, William. The Penfolds Grange 2006.”

  As soon as William had left, Caylee asked, “What was that about?”

  “Nothing really. I’m funding a local medical center so people who need treatment don’t have to go all the way to the mainland. His little boy was one of our first patients. Burst appendix. Quite nasty, so it was lucky the doctor was there to help.”

  “That’s very generous of you.” And it was a little too convenient that William happened to mention it in front of her. Could Blake have told him what to say in order to impress her? Or was she being unfairly suspicious? She was so afraid of being taken for a fool again.

  Blake shrugged and opened his menu. “It’s nothing special. The islanders needed it. Anyway, do you know what you’d like to eat?”

  Caylee looked at him a moment longer, reassessing him, trying to see how he might have changed from the boy she remembered. Were his eyes always that shade of light blue, or had they been bleached by the sun, like his hair? Or maybe it was his tan that made them look so light? His face was squarer than she remembered, but that was to be expected. He’d been a boy and now he was a man. Very much a man.

  Before she could stop herself, her gaze dropped to his arm, where a black line of tattoo ink was just visible below his short sleeve. He was a mystery. She couldn’t imagine ever getting a tattoo, or for that matter ever being with a man who had one. Tattoos were supposedly commonplace, but she didn’t know anyone who’d gotten one—they weren’t exactly popular with her colleagues in the mathematics department, and she was so focused on her work these days she barely socialized with any of her old friends from university, not that they were likely to have been inked either. Now that she thought about it, she only knew geeks. Unless Lana had a tattoo. Maybe one of her awful boyfriends had talked her into it.

  Blake saw where she was looking. His own gaze lowered and he moved to reach his other hand across and touch the line of ink, but his fingers only went as far as his elbow before they stopped, then dropped back to the table. So the tattoo wasn’t one he wanted to show her. It must be horrible. Probably a woman’s name printed on his arm, or something else he regretted.

  “Anything look good?” he asked.

  She scanned her menu, resisting the urge to ask him to push up his sleeve so she could see what he was hiding. “I’ll have grilled salmon with a spinach salad.”

  “Sounds healthy.”

  “The salmon’s full of omega 3 and the spinach will help me absorb iron from the meal.”

  “Do you always eat what’s good for you?”

  She glanced at his snug-fitting shirt, sculpted over an obviously toned body. He didn’t seem to be a stranger to the benefits of eating well. “Why would I want to eat unhealthy fo
od?”

  William was hovering over her with the wine, which he opened with what seemed like an awful lot of ceremony, setting the cork on the table and pouring a tasting sip for Blake to approve. When he’d left, Blake looked at her glass of wine and raised his eyebrows. “How does drinking fit with that philosophy?”

  “There’s a compound called resveratrol in red wine and, taken in moderation, it can be good for your heart.”

  “Taken?” He frowned as though the word was a crime. “You don’t take wine, you savor it. It’s a pleasure, not a vitamin pill.”

  “Can’t it be both?”

  “You’ve got an answer for everything.” He shook his head and picked up his wine glass. “Let’s drink to good health then.”

  “Good health.” The red wine melted in her mouth like nothing she’d ever tasted. It was a mixture of silk and velvet, so smooth that it slipped down her throat as easily as breathing. It had a freshness that contained a hint of chocolate and black olive, and a rich, lingering softness that made her want to down the entire glass.

  “What did you say that wine was?”

  He laughed. “Nice?”

  “Very.”

  She took another sip and felt the warmth of it going into her belly and spreading out through her limbs. Suddenly she was aware of the way he was leaning slightly toward her, his blue eyes studying her. If she closed her eyes right now, would she be able to smell that intoxicating scent of his? Or was it the sea, lapping so close to their feet, that was making her think of salt spray and laughter?

  She tore her gaze away from him and stared at the setting sun that was more spectacular than any sunset she’d ever seen. A bright glowing ball hung low in the sky, about to hit the horizon. It looked like it might plunge right into the sea.

  “Have you seen the green flash before?” His voice was low. It brought out goose bumps on her flesh as though he’d run his fingers across her body.

  “Excuse me?”

  “In the tropics you can sometimes see a green flash from the sun just as it sets.”