Relieved to have gotten that off her chest, she pivoted and hustled away as fast as her trembling legs would carry her. Too bad she couldn’t find a way to avoid him for the remainder of his stay, but hiding wasn’t an option. She had too much pride to be a coward a second time.
Two
E mbarrassed?Disappointed?
Less than wonderful?
Didn’t want to repeat the experience?
Trent’s pride shot up a series of distress flares. He’d wanted information, but he didn’t like what he’d learned.
He took great satisfaction in the skills he’d developed since his first fumbling adolescent affairs. And even though it hadn’t actually been him with Paige, the idea that she believed he had failed to satisfy her in bed chaffed like a cheap, overstarched shirt.
He yearned to correct her. But he couldn’t. Not without shooting his expansion plans for Hightower Aviation out of the sky and risking his brother’s marriage and the subsequent consequences—monetary and otherwise.
Part of him—the intelligent, thinking-with-his-brain part—warned him to implement damage control and walk away from Paige.
But part of him wanted to make her eat her words.
Not smart, man. Let it go.
What in the hell had happened between his brother and the hotel’s assistant event coordinator? Trent didn’t want to know, and yet he couldn’t afford not to. Diffusing the situation would be impossible without knowing what he was up against. Whatever it was couldn’t have been good.
Damnation. He wanted to wring Brent’s neck. Short of fratricide Trent had to find another way to avoid certain disaster. But how?
His intention of getting rid of Paige before Brent and Luanne arrived in town had hit turbulence the moment Trent had read her name tag and realized Paige McCauley—or so the engraved brass bar pinned to her breast stated—worked at the Lagoon.
There had to be another solution. And he would find it.
He visually tracked her retreating form, taking in her stiff spine, small waist, curvy h*ps and sleekly muscled legs atop sexy high heels. She had great legs. Hell, who was he kidding? Her hourglass shape in a green figure-skimming dress had caught his attention the moment he’d spotted her, but he’d ignored the call of his libido because he had a tight schedule, and because he never mixed business with pleasure.
For once his brother had great taste—without resorting to poaching. But Trent had always had a serious aversion to his brother’s leavings, a remnant from high school and college when Brent had relished playing tricks on Trent’s girlfriends to prove he could fool them out of their clothes and into the sack. Then Brent would tell Trent about his scores in graphic detail. Brent’s deceptive, juvenile actions had killed more of Trent’s relationships than he could count. Any woman who couldn’t tell the difference between him and his brother wasn’t worth his time.
The memories left a bad taste in his mouth, but if he wanted to derail disaster and keep Paige from discovering Brent’s deception, then Trent had to find a way to get her out of the hotel before next weekend.
“Paige,” he called out and pursued her. She kept walking. Either she didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him.
She turned a corner. He followed. At the sight of the dark casino with its garishly lit machines flashing even at this time of the morning, repugnance swept through him. He halted short of the entrance. If she kept going he’d have to let her escape. Given his father’s gambling addiction, a weakness that could be hereditary, Trent avoided casinos at all costs—a circumstance that made attending the annual aviation conference in Vegas a challenge.
“Paige,” he called again, louder this time.
She turned. Arms folded across the clipboard hugged to her chest, she looked less than thrilled to extend their discussion. “Was there something else?”
“I apologize for my rudeness. Let me make it up to you by buying you a drink.”
The obvious lack of interest thinning her lips and furrowing her brow blew a hole in the fuselage of his ego. “That’s not necessary. But thank you.”
“I insist. I’ll finish here by seven this evening.”
“I’m sorry. I have other plans after work.”
“Then lunch tomorrow.”
She shifted in her sexy shoes and glanced toward the exit—her desire to escape him as clear as crystal in her expressive brown eyes. “Trent, you don’t owe me anything.”
“We need to talk about what happened.” He had to find out how many people had seen her with Brent. Had the witnesses known it was his brother or had they, too, believed Brent’s pretense?
Paige frowned. “We had a good time. And then…we didn’t. I’d prefer to forget it.”
So would he, but then she might put two and two together when Brent arrived and detonate like a scorned woman. He had to find a way to circumvent that, and the only way to do that was by gathering enough facts to formulate a plan.
“I insist. What time is your lunch break tomorrow?”
She swallowed, looking as if someone had given her a dose of bad medicine. “I can’t leave the hotel during my shift.”
Meeting with her in the hotel was risky, but a risk he had to take. He considered his options. The top floor seafood restaurant was pricy enough to discourage most convention-goers. “I’ll make reservations for us at The Coral Reef.”
Indecision flickered across her face before resignation settled in, taking another sharp jab at his ego. He wasn’t used to having to work this hard to get women. His wealth had always brought them to his door whether he had time for them or not, and he’d made Knoxville’s most eligible bachelors list often enough to know his looks weren’t slowing them down.
“Sure. Fine. Whatever. Lunch tomorrow. Upstairs at noon.” With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she turned and departed, flaying him with her lack of interest.
Failure—even if it wasn’t actually his—didn’t taste good.
Brent, buddy, you are going to pay for this one.
From her corner table in the hotel’s seafood restaurant Paige had a clear view of Trent Hightower swaggering into The Coral Reef like he owned the place.
He hadn’t been that arrogant last year. Sure, he’d been confident, but also fun and flirtatious in a harmless, nonthreatening way. This year he appeared driven and serious, like a man on a mission. He emitted an I-can-handle-anything-you-throw-at-me vibe that she found quite sexy.
What could have happened over the past twelve months to change him so drastically?
Not your problem.
But a lifetime of being her sisters’ sounding board and problem-solver was a hard habit to break. Her momma claimed it was because Paige was “a born fixer” who couldn’t stand to see others out-of-sorts. Paige knew better. She hated unanswered questions and the unexpected chaos that usually accompanied them, so she tended to probe where others wouldn’t dare to go.
Trent’s gaze met hers across the linen-draped, crystal-topped tables. Her heart blipped erratically. Cold water splashed over the rim of her glass, wetting her fingers. She set down the goblet before her unsteady hands gave away her agitation.
Trent waved off the maitre d’ and made his way to the table alone. Heads turned as he crossed the room. The women were no doubt as drawn as Paige to his charismatic black-suited form. The men were probably envious. Who wouldn’t want a body that looked as though it had walked off the cover of a fitness magazine? Trent possessed powerful shoulders, lean h*ps and all the good bits in between capped by a drool-worthy gorgeous face.
His attitude wasn’t the only thing that had changed. She’d thought him handsome before, but they hadn’t had this potent attraction that hit her like a triple-shot of espresso each time he came near, making her skittish, breathless and her heartbeat irregular. If they had, then maybe things would have turned out differently and her walk on the wild side wouldn’t have fizzled like a dud firework.
She had to admit the combination of his attitude change and their sudden sizzle had snagged her curiosity. There was nothing she liked better than a puzzle, and trying to figure him out was going to be more interesting than the crosswords she did alone on her treadmill each night rather than face the scary Vegas singles scene alone.
Excavating the cause of Trent’s transformation should keep her entertained during this duty lunch. Afterward, once he’d satisfied himself by making whatever amends he believed he needed to make, she’d go her own way and relegate him and the memory of that miserable night to the past. If she didn’t, she’d never find the courage to try again, and she really had to do that before her sisters decided to make good on their threat to visit Vegas.
Trent lowered himself into the seat across from her. A faint whiff of his cologne drifted across the table to tease and tempt her. Had he changed cologne? Funny, she’d forgotten the scent and taste of a jaw she’d kissed. As big of an impact as he’d had on her year you’d think she wouldn’t forget any of the details.
“So how’s the airplane biz?” she asked even before he’d unfolded his napkin.
“Still profitable despite the economy. How has event managing been?”
She mentally rolled her eyes at his deflection. Apparently, he wanted to chitchat before getting to the point of the conversation. Two of her sisters were that way. The other two blurted out information like avalanches. Before you knew it you’d been buried under too many facts and had to dig your way to the point.
“It turns out I’m good at event management since I’m used to juggling multiple crises simultaneously.”
His focus sharpened. “A trait we share.”
“Probably because we both worked in our respective family businesses with our siblings. But unlike home, now I get a paycheck for handling catastrophes instead of a soggy shoulder, and I don’t have to loan anyone my favorite earrings to cheer them up.”
Amusement flared in his eyes, jump-starting her pulse. “Remind me which part of the South you’re from.”
Had he forgotten everything she’d told him? “South Carolina—a very small town on Lake Marion about halfway between Charleston and Columbia.”
“Are any of your siblings still there?”
“Yes. All of them. Kelly, my oldest sister, left for a while, but she came back.” Single, two months pregnant and dumped by her lover. Tongues had wagged, making starting over all that much more difficult for heartbroken Kelly.
Failure in a small town provided entertainment for the gossips—something Paige had learned firsthand when David had dumped her after seven years together. It hadn’t been one of her finer moments when she’d taken the cowardly way out and run clear to Vegas to avoid being fodder for the rumor mill. But as her granny always said, she’d made her bed and now she had to lie in it.
“And the rest?” Trent prompted.
She pushed down a twinge of homesickness and focused on her lunch companion. “Jessica and Ashley still live within thirty miles of my parents. We’ll see where Sammie ends up when she graduates from USC in June, but my guess is she’ll teach in the same elementary school we attended. I suppose we McCauleys like to stick close. Even when I first left home I was just over an hour away in North Charleston. Are your brother and sisters still working for the family?”