Her meaning hit him solidly in the solar plexus and his temper flared as his cock hardened more fully. He took her words one way only, as a direct challenge. So much for attempting to leave her alone.
Well, then . . . game on, baby.
The next morning, Maria sat at her desk somewhat amazed that she’d been able to sleep at all the night before, let alone as much as she had. Garrett was already enclosed in his office as well, she’d heard him banging things around in there not three seconds after she’d arrived at her desk.
Logging on to her computer, she crossed her legs and glanced down at the outfit she’d put on not half an hour ago, a tiny hint of restlessness assailing her. What the hell was wrong with her? Was she trying to cause herself more of a problem than she already had with Garrett? If she was, at the moment at least, she didn’t think she really cared.
His attitude yesterday had seriously pissed her off. She hated that he continually tried to intimidate her with his raging, over-the-top masculinity. His actions were beyond the pale, not cool in the least. So naturally, she’d want to retaliate, right? Just as she had yesterday, when, by his own words, she’d turned it on for him. So, this morning, she’d dressed with a bit more care than usual . . . because if he was going to make her life a living hell, she intended to give back as good as she was getting.
She hadn’t done anything overt with her appearance that anyone should be able to peg right off the bat. It was simple things, really, several of them. She’d started with one of her standard outfits that Garrett had already seen at least a couple of times. The top was a simple blue blouse, but she’d worn a push-up bra underneath it, and she’d left an extra button undone. The skirt came an inch or so above her knees . . . but she’d teamed it with higher heels than she usually wore. She always wore at least a low heel because of her lack of height, but she rarely wore high-heels to work. But she had today. Not platform heels, because those would have been too noticeably different. These were stilettos . . . five inch stilettos. She’d added a double layer of mascara to her almost negligible make-up routine, and since her lashes were long to begin with, the effect was rather dramatic, if she had to say so herself. Other than that, she’d curled the tips of her hair, producing a bit more bounce to taunt him with.
Overall, she was more than pleased with her appearance. Nobody could accuse her of going out of her way with different clothes or a dramatic change in hair or make-up.
But what would Garrett think? She’d bet her bottom dollar that he’d notice.
Now all she had to do was sit back and wait.
She didn’t have long to wait. Five seconds later, Garrett walked out of his office toward the coffee-room. He didn’t once look toward her. But a couple of minutes later, on his way back through, he glanced her way, then came to an immediate halt, a scowl blazing across his features. Holding his coffee cup suspended halfway to his lips, his body stilled as he narrowed his eyes on her. His gaze ran up to the top of her head and then down her torso where she sat behind her desk, coming to a silent, screaming halt at her breasts.
Finally, lifting his eyes back to hers, he didn’t speak for a long moment.
“Good morning,” she said as calmly as she could manage, knowing that her ploy had worked—and he hadn’t even seen her shoes yet.
His expression turned steely, his body held in rigid lines. He took a drink of his coffee and then finally spoke, as if he had something to be pissed about. “I’ve got a meeting with a real estate developer from the Keys in about half an hour. Show him in when he gets here.”
With that, he turned away, walked into his office and slammed the door with a deafening crack.
Twenty minutes later, the real estate developer was escorted into her office by the front desk clerk. The girl had been here for several years now and was pretty much Maria’s right arm when it came to running the hotel. The young woman had a dreamy look on her face, and when Maria looked into the newcomer’s eyes, she could definitely see why.
Maria stood to her feet with a smile for the man and quietly dismissed the dazed employee. “Thanks, Beth.”
After another long stare, the girl finally turned around and went back to her station.
Maria came around her desk and held her hand out just as she heard a faint click of a door. “I’m Maria Alvarez,” she said simply with a professional smile of welcome.
He reached out and his hand swallowed her smaller one. “Maximo Villareal,” he responded with a masculine smile before leaning slightly forward and saying in a more intimate tone, “you can call me Max.” Without releasing her hand, he broke into fluent Spanish, “If you’re an example of the women in Miami, I’m going to have to visit more often.”