Garrett sank into the chair behind his desk and ran his hand down his face. Holy hell. He should have known after he’d broken form and kissed her in the elevator that something like this would happen eventually.
He just hadn’t known it would be this soon.
Who the fuck would have ever suspected that something as simple as another man paying marked attention to her would have sent him off the deep-end? But it damn sure had. That son-of-a-bitch’s eyes on her, the open way the man had been discerning her as if she were fair fucking game—it had sent Garrett over the edge. And combined with that had been her over-the-top sexiness that morning. She’d had no idea he’d been expecting the man, so Garrett knew for a fact that her choice of weapon that morning had been aimed at him, and not his visitor.
What the hell was it about that girl? She kept him unsteady . . . fuck, almost unstable.
There was something about Maria Alvarez . . . and he didn’t understand exactly what it was, except for the obvious sexual attraction he felt for her. But there was something else that she had that he admired. And that was making it even more difficult to stay away from her.
He admitted, he didn’t have much to do with any one, single woman on a regular basis. The incident a few years back had soured him on women; he now saw them as expedient for one thing, and one thing only. He just couldn’t trust them. He hadn’t met a single one who had honest intentions.
But Maria? She was about as damn honest as one could get. Granted, it was honest hate and anger that she felt for him, but she damn sure didn’t try to hide her feelings or pretend otherwise. If she was trying to hide stuff, then she was doing a piss poor job.
But now, after this morning, he knew she was up to something. The changes in her today had been subtle, but they’d been meant to land a blow, and damned if she hadn’t hit her mark.
He needed to come to a decision and quickly. The girl was more than competent; she’d been running the hotel more than capably ever since he’d arrived and who the hell knew how long before then. He had to make a decision about the Keys and finish up his business there. But after that, he didn’t need to be in Florida much longer, if at all. If he stuck around, he needed to admit to himself the reason he was staying.
That reason formed like a rolling picture in his head that wrapped around his brain and wouldn’t let go. Maria. Naked. Under him. In his bed. Under his control. . .
Yeah, his reason for staying was as simple and as complex as that. He wanted her. And he would have her.
Chapter Four
When Maria arrived downstairs the next morning, Beth glanced up from the reservation desk, a somber expression on her face, as if the light had already been extinguished from the day. “He’s not here.”
Knowing exactly who ‘he’ was, Maria let out a slow breath. “Where is he?”
“He went to the Keys, I think to meet that land-developer guy. That Villareal dude is kind of scary, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t want him for an enemy, that’s for sure. But I’m pretty sure he’s met his match in Garrett.”
Beth nodded her head in agreement. “Garrett said to tell you that he’ll be gone for a few days.”
Maria smiled at the other woman. “Well, yay for us, right?”
Beth gave her a puzzled smile in return but shrugged her shoulders. “If you say so.”
Late the next evening, Maria wearily pulled herself out of the water, her arms and legs shaking from the two extra laps she’d added to her routine. Turning to grab a towel from the table, she sucked in a breath at the sight she encountered.
Garrett was leaning against the same chair where he’d been the first time she’d seen him . . . and he was doing the same thing now as he had been then, staring at her relentlessly. He was fully dressed, didn’t appear to be about to make use of the swimming pool, and she knew he’d sought her out on purpose. Her entire being flooding with something she wasn’t about to try to dissect, she ignored the flutter in her belly. “Hey,” she threw out nonchalantly as she wrapped the towel around her torso, not bothering with her hair.
“Hey,” he grunted back.
As she ran her damp palms down the sides of the towel, she stated the obvious to break the looming silence, “You’re back.”
“I am.” His words were precise and succinct, leaving her no indication of his mood, and at the same time, they kicked the butterflies up to such a degree that it was now impossible to ignore the quivering in her belly.
The fact that her belly was quivering—that only made her want to get away from him, from whatever it was that was making her feel this way. She stood perfectly still, wanting to get to the door but not prepared to have to walk so closely past him to reach it. “So . . . how was your trip?”