Forbidden Surrender(9)

“You’re doing great. Just relax a little. Focus on controlling your own body, not on what you’re holding.”

“Easier said than done,” I replied, even though his advice seemed to be working.

The next few moments were a blur, but I somehow managed to place the spider gently on Vincent’s hand. He downed his drink and went the extra mile by flicking the spider back into the jar instead of killing it.

Once again, the bar roared approval.

Afraid I would have to do it again, I turned to the big guy and was relieved to see him passed out on the counter.

Vincent had won.





It wasn’t long before the ruckus died down. The big guy had woken up, signed the contract, shook Vincent’s hand, and left. The crowd had dissipated and Riley was now being entertained by one of the British guys from the expat group. I found myself seated beside Vincent at a cozy table in a secluded part of the bar, alone.

Even with all the alcohol I imagined was flowing through his system, Vincent looked as sober as a judge. Not only were his nerves steel, but so was his blood. I began to wonder if those were the only parts . . .

“What can I get you to drink?” Vincent asked, flagging the waitress.

I considered avoiding more alcohol in case we discussed business, but I didn’t want to be rude either. “A mojito please.”

The waitress flashed a flirty smile at Vincent before leaving, which made me bristle.

He returned his attention back to me. “I’m surprised. You struck me as more damsel than dame.”

The comment was decidedly personal and I felt justified in taking offense. “And you strike me as more reckless than brave. Why were you in a drinking contest with a spider-loving thug?”

His sinful lips curved into a wicked smile. “You can’t always judge people by their appearance. Nambe is a real estate mogul. He owns a lot of property in the area including this bar. I wanted one of his private beaches and he set the terms. You’ll find the most successful people play by their own rules.”

His comment made me recall how far I had just gone to win him over as a client. “Do all your business transactions involve endangering your life?”

“Just the interesting ones. The bite wouldn’t have been fatal if I went to the hospital immediately. When you want something bad enough, sometimes it’s surprising what you’re willing to do.” He adjusted his seat and his leg brushed mine sending an unwelcome flutter through my belly.

The waitress returned with my drink and I took a sip, relishing the taste more than I should have. “Does that apply to swimming with sharks and jumping off cliffs?” I said, feeling emboldened by the mojito as well as the other alcoholic beverages I’d consumed since setting foot inside this bar.

“It applies to whatever gives me a thrill. What gives you a thrill Kristen? Besides winning my account.”

Unsure if that was a flirtatious line or an accusation, I answered, “Who says that gives me a thrill?”

“It makes you good at your job. Pitch aside, the materials you gave me were polished.”

“Thank you.” I flustered at the compliment. It was rare to have my work given the appreciation I felt it deserved even by my colleagues, let alone a client.

“What would you do if I chose your company?”

“You’re saying after I did all that, you’re still not convinced you can trust us with your money?”

“What you did puts Waterbridge-Howser back in the running. After your partner insulted my intelligence this morning I had almost ruled you out.”

Crap. “I’m truly sorry about that, it wasn’t intentional. We were just trying to be persuasive and it seems we missed the mark.”

“Fair enough.” He stirred his drink and shrugged. “I’m curious, what are you doing in a bar like this?”

The question sounded like he thought I was here on the prowl—which was not at all the reason. “It was my friend Riley’s idea.” I pointed a blaming finger at Riley across the bar, who seemed to be too enamored with her company to notice. “She’s a little adventurous.”

“So are you,” he said touching my hand with the tip of his finger. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Excuse me?” The conversation had turned decidedly flirtatious and I wasn’t sure how to react. I’d never been hit on by a potential client before and there were no company guidelines addressing this type of situation. Regardless of how attracted I was to Vincent, if anybody at work suspected I was mixing business with pleasure, my professional reputation would be ruined. I’d seen it happen before.

“Don’t tell me your partner is.”