“Sure. No problem.”
Violet worked her mouth. “My phone is on, so call me if anything comes up.”
“I will,” Lillian promised. “But don’t worry. Things are under control.”
“Thanks, Lillian. That’s…good to know,” Violet murmured, then said goodbye. But when she hung up, she conceded feeling a bit irked that her business could run so smoothly without her.
A quick check of her watch told her she had scant minutes to freshen up. She left the rest of the unpacking until later, then stared at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. She looked flushed and wilted. She removed her turtleneck and washed her face, then applied powder makeup to even out her freckles. She repaired her ponytail, trying to tame the extra curl that the humidity had brought out in her hair. When she picked up the turtleneck, though, she bit her lip. She would look ridiculous if she put it back on.
With trepidation, she fished out the green halter top that Lillian had pressed upon her. If she wore it, she’d have to forgo a bra. Dubious, she removed her bra and contorted to fit herself into the halter. It fit, albeit snugly, and she conceded that despite the yards of white skin showing, the top looked more appropriate to the climate than anything she’d brought with her. She pulled on the black suit jacket and pursed her mouth. She’d never shown so much cleavage in her life, but when in Rome…
Winslow whined and when she looked down, he was holding his leash in his mouth. “Okay, I’m hurrying.” She pushed her feet into the sandals she’d brought, grabbed her purse and went to the bedroom door, wondering if or how Dominick would react to her new look. She hesitated. Was she trying too hard?
Winslow barked his impatience, so she took a deep breath and opened the door.
Dominick was waiting by the window, taking in the view. “How does seafood sound for lunch?” he asked, turning. When he saw her, he stopped and his eyes widened. “Vee…you look…wow,” he said, mimicking her earlier response to the room. “That’s better than the turtleneck.”
She warmed under his gaze as he walked closer to her. “Thank you,” she said primly. “And seafood for lunch sounds great—after I walk Winslow.”
“We’ll walk the pooch on the way,” Dominick said distantly, although he didn’t even glance at the dog at their feet.
She picked up Winslow, who bared his teeth at Dominick, then they all descended to the lobby. The concierge directed Violet to a place where she could walk Winslow and Dominick tagged along. She hoped desperately that the dog would go without his normal coaching, but after a few minutes of leading him up and down the shaded, grassy strip, it became apparent that he needed a nudge. So, swallowing her pride, Violet knelt and made little cooing noises in his ear. “You’re such a good boy, Winslow, yes, you are. And you’re so handsome, yes, you are, you good little doggie.”
Winslow almost smiled, then obliged her with a squat. She turned her head to find Dominick staring, eyebrows raised. “You have to compliment the dog into taking a dump?”
She gave him a wry smile. “It’s part of the job.”
“You need to increase your fees,” Dominick said.
She removed a plastic bag and disposable scoop from her purse to clean up after Winslow, then tossed it all in the nearest trash. “We’re ready,” she announced with a smile.
He looked down at Winslow. “And I thought I was demanding,” he said to the dog. Winslow growled, then barked as if he were much bigger than his fluffy twelve inches.
Winslow continued to “guard” her, walking between her and Dominick as they strolled to a beachside café for lunch. Violet had to scold the dog twice for snapping at Dominick. As they took their seats and she attached his leash to the leg of their table, it was clear there was no love lost between the two “men.”
“Does he ever take a nap?” Dominick asked sourly, “or are we going to have to take him everywhere?”
“He’ll be fine in my room for the afternoon,” Violet said. “We’ll have plenty of time to visit Sunpiper. And I still need to shop for some things on your gift list.” She pulled the paper from her purse. “I left the other gifts with Lillian to be delivered. But there’s still Heather, Mia, Sandy and Bethany. I need to get them soon to have them delivered to Atlanta for Christmas. Do you have any special requests?”
Dominick shifted in his seat. “Uh, the gift for Bethany should probably be some kind of jewelry.”
A tiny barb of jealousy struck her chest. “Okay. A bracelet, perhaps? Earrings?”
“We’ll talk about business later,” he said, dismissing the list with a wave.
Violet nodded and stowed the paper, wondering if Dominick was thinking of something more serious for Bethany, like a ring. She idly wondered what Bethany thought of her boyfriend spending Christmas in Miami with another woman.
Not that she posed any kind of threat, Violet reminded herself. Nan had been wrong in her prediction. Because while Dominick had been friendly and even complimentary, so far he’d shown no inclination whatsoever that he intended to “have his way” with her.
Violet wiped at her heated brow, then picked up her water glass for a long drink, glancing beneath her lashes at his handsome profile.
Darn it.
8
THE WAITRESS CAME and took their order. Because of the heat, Violet wasn’t very hungry, but since the only thing she’d had in her stomach today was the drink on the plane and some water, she ordered a shrimp cocktail and Dominick ordered a fish sandwich. They made small talk while they waited for the food. Violet felt awkward and stiff next to Dominick’s relaxed posture. He was at ease with the casual lifestyle of Miami and it suited him. She, on the other hand, felt as if she were visiting another planet.
The people in Miami were proud of their bodies and their sexuality. Everyone flirted and touched and laughed and danced. Alcohol flowed like the sea itself, and public displays of affection were commonplace. People moved in pairs or in groups and everyone seemed open to just about any game that erupted spontaneously, from doing the limbo to tucking an orange under their chin and passing it down the line, rubbing bodies indiscriminately. Everyone seemed to be in party mode, whooping it up before Christmas. Garland hung incongruously from palm trees, and many sunbathers wore Santa hats.
Winslow whined for food from beneath the table but Violet shushed him with water poured into a plastic cup for him to lap.
When Dominick had finished with his sandwich, he folded his hands behind his head and stretched out his long legs. “What great weather, eh?”
She nodded, pulling a finger around the collar of her suit jacket. Dressed in the black suit, the sun’s rays were brutal.
“I’m glad you came, Vee.”
His offhand comment sent her pulse pounding—this man could so easily affect her. She swallowed and tried to match his breezy tone. “Me, too.”
“I hope your folks weren’t upset that you changed your mind about spending Christmas with them.”
She wished she had her sunglasses to hide the sudden moisture pooling in her eyes, but she managed to look away and get a grip on her emotions. “No, they weren’t upset.”
“What do your parents do?”
“My mother is a teacher, my father is a translator. They spend most of their time outside the States.”
“Sounds like an exciting way to spend your childhood.”
“I mostly stayed with my grandparents in Atlanta,” she said, playing with the napkin in her lap.
“Ah, so they’ll miss having you there at Christmas.”
“My grandparents passed on earlier this year,” she murmured. “Only a couple of months apart.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone low and warm.
“They lived a full life,” she said, mimicking the words that people had told her at the time to make her feel better.
“Still, you must miss them,” he said.
Her heart squeezed and she nodded. “Do you have a big family?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m an only child, and my parents have been gone for some time now.”
It was a different side of Dominick. She had wrongly assumed from the man’s happy-go-lucky demeanor that his life was carefree. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, and reached for his hand before she caught herself and pulled back. “What do you normally do for Christmas?” she asked to cover her gaffe.
He shrugged. “Travel. Jump out of planes.”
She smiled. “Or buy companies?”
“Maybe this year,” he agreed, and the boyish hopefulness in his eyes caught at her heart. Warning flags waved in her mind. Discovering these tender things about Dominick wasn’t a good thing. Harboring a crush on a certified playboy was safe because she knew better than to take him seriously. But when he let down his guard, she was tempted to think that he was more than the horny daredevil the press made him out to be.
The waitress returned with a drink, which she set in front of Dominick. “Sex on the Beach,” she said, then pointed. “From the blonde over there.”
Unable to resist, Violet turned to look at the stunning woman in a leopard-print bikini who gave Dominick a little wave. A flush of embarrassment climbed Violet’s neck—the woman had obviously concluded that she and Dominick were too mismatched to be a couple. She quickly turned back around and pulled the lapels of her jacket closed, watching Dominick’s reaction.