It didn’t help.
He’d gone over every document for his meeting with Stan on Friday ten times, ensuring his proposal was rock solid. Besides, he had a feeling this meeting was a formality. Stan already knew what Blackwood Enterprises was capable of. He just hadn’t trusted their reputation.
Which now, thanks to the stunning woman lying in the sun like some ancient goddess, had solidified in the eyes of the old-school investor. It irked Beck, not being trusted, especially when he’d put in the hard work to make this company the best in the business. But he, more than anybody, knew people only saw what they wanted to see.
Kids in high school hadn’t seen his eagerness to fit in or his propensity for figures. They’d seen a scruffy kid in hand-me-down clothes with second-hand textbooks who lived in a trailer, and they’d treated him accordingly. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was condescension, and it had driven him every day through high school and beyond.
Sad thing was, those same people sucked up to him whenever he visited Pa. And he pitied them. He’d once thought he’d lord it over those who had made his life in Checkerville a misery, but a small part of him felt sorry for them.
Their lives were reduced to a fishbowl where their kids continued the bullying cycle, while he’d moved so far beyond all that it wasn’t funny. The fact that Pa now lived in a ranch-style house he’d always dreamed of, with a garage full of vintage cars he loved, was vindication enough he’d done good.
Poppy shifted in her sleep, half turning onto her side, effectively pushing her breasts together with one half spilling out of its cup. His groin tightened and he gritted his teeth against the urge to barge over there and ravish her on the spot.
She looked delectable, a dorky white straw hat shading her face, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, her lips parted as she breathed deeply. She’d acquired a deeper tan since being out here, glorious expanses of golden skin on display just begging to be touched…
He couldn’t wait any longer.
Skirting the pool, he strode toward her, certain his footsteps against the flagstones would wake her.
It didn’t.
Even with his shadow looming over her she didn’t stir, so he bent down and brushed a soft kiss against her lips.
Her eyelids snapped open and before he could react, she’d leapt up and simultaneously shoved him.
Beck teetered on the edge of the pool for a second, long enough to see the dawning horror spread across her face before he toppled backward. He fell in, submerged, grateful for solar heating. Not so grateful he was wearing an Armani suit and a Rolex.
He surged toward the surface in time to see her hovering on the edge of the pool, concern twisting her mouth into a grimace.
“Nice day for a swim.” He frowned.
She winced. “Sorry, I thought you were some sicko sneaking into the backyard.”
“That’s what the alarmed walls are for, if you turned them on.” As he tread water, a glimmer of an idea shimmering into his subconscious. A very naughty idea. “You were pretty out of it.”
“Working hard.” She jerked a thumb at her laptop. “What are you doing here?”
“Didn’t want my wife pining away for me.”
“As if.” She towered over him, hands on hips, utterly delectable.
“Go on, admit it.”
“What?”
“You missed me.”
She blew him a raspberry in response. “Your ego’s as big as your fortune.”
“I was hoping you’d say as big as something else.”
A hint of a smile tugged at her mouth. “You’ve got a filthy mind, too.”
“It’s a guy thing.” He swam closer, her dainty ankle within tempting reach.
Something in his expression must’ve alerted her to his nefarious intentions, because she edged back a little. “I’m putting the finishing touches on Lou’s party. Why don’t you dry off and we’ll catch up later?”
“Why don’t we catch up now?”
Before she could move, his hand snaked out, grabbed her ankle, and tugged. She shouted an obscenity—several in fact—as she toppled into the pool beside him. Her hat floated to the surface a second before she did, sputtering and coughing.
“You play dirty.” She shoved him away as he reached for her, and he laughed.
“You love it.”
“Smug bastard,” she muttered, her glare softening when his hands spanned her waist and tugged her closer.
“I love it when you call me names.” He claimed her mouth before she could respond, the latent heat between them igniting in a fiery instant. His hard-on twitched as she wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing her in tantalizingly close contact.