Читать книгу: «The Make Me Series»
“I crave you...”
Can their hunger be satisfied?
Roman Bassani will do anything to close a deal. Even chase down Allie Landers on her Caribbean vacation to make an offer on her company. He expects a challenge—but not their immediate intense attraction. After an accidental one-night stand they agree to put business aside—for now. The island lulls them into a heated sexual journey...but what happens to their opposing interests when they return from paradise?
“DARE is Harlequin’s hottest line yet. Every book should come with a free fan. I dare you to try them!”
—Tiffany Reisz, international bestselling author
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author KATEE ROBERT learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her 2015 title The Marriage Contract was a RITA® finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it ‘a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension’. When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense she spends her time playing imaginative games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if? questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.
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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk
Make Me Crave
Katee Robert
ISBN: 978-1-474-07128-4
MAKE ME CRAVE
© 2018 Katee Hird
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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Version: 2020-03-02
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To Hunter McGrady.
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Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Extract
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
“I SHOULD CANCEL.” Allie Landers threw another massive load of white towels into the washer and bumped the door closed with her hip. “Honestly, I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this in the first place.”
“It’s cute that you think you let me do anything.” Her best friend, Becka Baudin, laughed. She pulled another set of shoes out of the metal bin and paired them up with the appropriate-sized cubby. “And, besides, I already checked us in for our flight. It’s too late to turn back now. Our classes are covered. Claudia is handling all the administrative work for the week—for both the gym and the shelter. If you stay, you’ll just stand around and stress out because things are operating just fine without you.” She slid another set of spin shoes back into their cubby. “When’s the last time you took a day off, Allie?”
Allie sighed, because that was the one argument she couldn’t win. She didn’t take days off. Her gym, Transcend, and the women’s shelter it helped support were her life. She even lived in the apartment above the building combining the two. When she wasn’t filling in teaching a class for one of the girls she employed, she was handling administrative work or doing whatever was required for the shelter.
She preferred it that way. Being busy made her feel complete in a way that nothing else did. She was a vital cog in a perfectly operating machine.
Except little about it was perfect these days.
The few donors she’d had who helped keep the women’s shelter afloat had dried up. The gym functioned just fine on its own, but she’d been using every bit of profit to keep the shelter going. Because of that, the gym was in jeopardy now, too. The result... She was in trouble. More trouble than she’d let on to anyone. Admitting it aloud was akin to making it real, and she couldn’t do that. There was a way out. There had to be.
A way that didn’t involve selling out to the vulture investors who’d been circling for months. Allie just needed time to figure it out.
The very last thing she needed was to jet off to the Caribbean to some private island for a week. But if she admitted as much to Becka, then she’d have to admit everything else.
She couldn’t. Not yet.
Allie had just sunk what remained of her personal savings account into keeping the power bill paid at the shelter, which meant another month gone by without debt collectors calling. Or, worse in so many ways, without having to turn out any of the women currently living there.
“Hello? Earth to Allie.” Becka waved a hand in front of her face, a frown marring her expression. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere important.” She forced a smile and reached over to flick her friend’s hair. “The blue suits you.” It was just as bright as Becka’s personality, several shades melded together to create something beautiful.
“Don’t change the subject.” Her friend frowned harder. “You aren’t going to cancel, are you? If you try, I will hog-tie you to your suitcase and haul your ass to the airport myself. You’re going to relax and enjoy yourself for a week even if it kills both of us.”
Allie snorted. “If it kills both of us, that’s hardly relaxing, is it?”
“Smart-ass.” Becka’s blue eyes were pleading. “I’ve already left our contact info with Claudia. I promise, if something happens and they need you, I’ll pay for your flight back to New York without bitching about it once. And I’ll never bully you into going on vacation again.”
Allie raised her eyebrows. “How much did you have to pay Claudia to make sure she doesn’t call me?” That was the only way Becka would make a promise like that. Her friend played to win, and she wasn’t afraid to play dirty. Claudia was just as bad.
Becka all but confirmed it. “Claudia is on the same page as I am. We both agree that you need to get the hell away from this place for a little bit.”
She sighed again, but a small part of her looked forward to seven days with no email, no phone calls, no weight of the world on her shoulders. The island had no internet access except in the main lodge, so she’d have no choice but to relax. “I guess I have to go, then.”
“Yes, you do!” Becka gave a little wiggle. “Now help me get the rest of these shoes put away before your class. I’m going to pop in if it doesn’t fill up. Seven days of drinking and sunning myself are going to add up quick.”
Allie laughed and moved to help. She pushed away the worry and stress that had plagued her for months. It would still be here when she got back. What would it hurt to just cut loose for once in her adult life? “I’m looking forward to it.” And for the first time since she’d bought the tickets, she actually meant it.
* * *
Roman Bassani glared at the pretty Chinese woman behind the counter. “You’ve been giving me the runaround for weeks. I know for a fact that Allie Landers is in here daily and she’s actively dodging my calls. I just need to talk to her.” He couldn’t tender her an offer to invest in her business if he couldn’t pin her down, and he’d been having a hell of a time managing that since his initial call to propose the idea. Coaxing reluctant business owners into seeing things his way was something that usually came easily for him. But Allie Landers was a slipperier quarry than he’d expected.
Apparently she’d successfully dodged him. Again.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Claudia didn’t look the least bit sorry. “She’s out of town for the next seven days. Any business you have with her will have to wait until then.”
“Out of town? Where the hell did she go? There’s got to be some way to get ahold of her.” He didn’t actually expect Claudia to answer, but apparently needling him was too much of a temptation.
She leaned forward with a small smile. “She’s on a private island with no cell service or internet. If you want to contact her before she gets back, I suggest smoke signals.”
Cheeky.
He could use this. Roman plastered a disbelieving look on his face. “That’s bullshit. There isn’t a damn place in the Western Hemisphere without cell service or Wi-Fi, let alone without both.”
“There is on West Island.”
Aha. He didn’t let his expression shift. “If you say so. You tell Allie to call me when she gets back.”
“I’m sure she’ll have you at the top of her list,” Claudia said sweetly.
Roman turned without another word and stalked out of the gym. He breathed an audible sigh of relief once the door closed behind him. Everything about that place was so feminine, he couldn’t walk inside without feeling like a bull in a china shop. It was more than the tiny instructors that he seemed to argue with the second he asked after the owner. There wasn’t a single pink thing in sight, but the place was always packed with women.
None of that was a bad thing, but the looks they gave him—as if they expected him to go on a rampage at any moment—and the subtle flinches they made if he moved too fast... It grated. It wasn’t their fault, and he applauded what Allie Landers was doing there, but their behavior left him painfully aware of how big his body was by comparison to theirs, and of the fact that no matter how carefully he spoke or how expensively he dressed, he was still a goddamn animal beneath the suit.
He didn’t let anyone see it, but those women sensed it all the same.
A predator.
It didn’t matter that he’d chop off his hand before he raised it to a woman or child. To them, he was a threat.
Roman cursed and started down the street. He should hail a cab, but he needed to work off his aggression more. The long strides helped clear his mind and ease his agitation, leaving nothing but cold purpose in its wake.
This Allie thought she could skip town for a week and ignore the fact that his deadline was bearing down on them. Two weeks until she had to make a decision, or other investors would make the decision for her. Normally, Roman wouldn’t hesitate to play dirty, but his client wanted Allie to agree to the contract without him putting on undue pressure. An impossible task. He had a healthy bonus waiting for him if he could pull it off, but that was secondary. His client wanted full acquisition of the business with the shelter intact—the women in the shelter would scatter if they thought it was a hostile takeover. They trusted Allie, and they sure as fuck wouldn’t trust him.
All of it boiled down to his needing the damn woman to go along with this buyout and he couldn’t convince her to get onboard if she wasn’t here.
But he had a location.
Roman fished his phone out of his pocket and did some quick searching, his frustration growing when he realized that the resort was booked for the next year straight. The website promised a discreet paradise, which translated to the staff being unwilling to move things around to accommodate him. Since giving him guest names so he could offer his own incentive was against company policy, he’d hit a dead end.
Only one thing left to do. He called his best friend, Gideon Novak. “Hey, don’t suppose you have any connections with West Island in the Caribbean?”
“Hello, Roman, so nice to hear from you. I’m doing well, thank you for asking.”
Roman rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m being a prick. We both know that’s not going to change. The island. It’s important.”
The slightest of pauses on the other end wouldn’t have been there if he hadn’t fucked things up royally six months ago. He and Gideon were mending that bridge, but rebuilding the trust was slow going. It didn’t matter that Gideon understood where Roman was coming from—Roman had still almost cost his friend the love of his life, Lucy.
Finally, clicking sounded on the other end of the phone. “I haven’t dealt with the owner specifically, but I’ve placed two separate clients with his company and they’re both still working there.”
It was better than he could have hoped. “I need one of the villas.”
Another pause, longer this time. “Roman, if you need a vacation, book it yourself. I’m not a goddamn travel agent.”
“No shit. This isn’t pleasure—it’s business. I need to find a guest arriving today. And offer the owner of the reservation a truly outstanding amount of money to reschedule. The resort won’t give out that information to me, but if you have an in, they’ll give it out to you.”
“This better be really important.”
It wasn’t a question, but Roman had nothing to lose at this point. “Vitally. One of the businesses I’ve been trying to court for months is coming down to the deadline. If my client doesn’t invest first, the other wolves circling will. They’ll damage the integrity of this place and do irreparable harm to people’s lives as a result.”
“Sounds like you’re playing the hero. A new look for you.”
“Fuck no. I’m in it for the bottom line, and the bottom line is that with the right spin, this place could be making a significant amount of money, and the good press that comes from it being connected with a women’s shelter would go a long way to opening doors to me that have previously been closed.”
Gideon snorted. “Whatever you have to tell yourself. Give me thirty.”
“Thanks.”
His friend hung up without saying goodbye. Gideon would come through for him. The man was an unstoppable force, and Roman counted himself lucky to have him on his side.
Sure enough, thirty minutes later, a text came through with the reservation details—and the significant amount of money to be wired to the owner of the reservation he was co-opting. Roman wasted no time sending the money and booking the first flight out of New York.
He had seven days to track down Allie Landers and convince her to see things his way. How hard could it be on an island with only ten villas on it?
CHAPTER TWO
ROMAN TOOK FIVE minutes to change and stalk through his villa, getting a feel for the place. It was all vacation luxury, heavy on the driftwood furniture and big open spaces to maximize the view of his private beach and the foliage that surrounded three quarters of the building.
And therein lay the problem.
He should have anticipated that an island with only ten villas would play heavily into privacy, but with the various activities open to all guests, he’d anticipated there would be plenty of time to find Allie and make his argument.
He hadn’t figured on not knowing which part of the island she was on.
He strode onto the beach and looked around. The natural curve of the island created a miniature bay that blocked out the view of anyone else. There were bicycles and walking paths to get to the main buildings, where there was a restaurant, a bar, a yoga studio and a boutique gift shop. He could hang out there and hope like hell that Allie would venture in for a meal, but with the option to have dining brought to the villas, he didn’t like his odds.
No, better to get the lay of the land and plan accordingly.
A quick examination of the storage unit right off the sand—designed to look like a weathered shack—gave him the answer. There was gear for a variety of water sports. He considered his options and went with the kayak. It was the fastest way to get where he needed to go and stay relatively dry in the process. He shucked his shoes off, paused and then dragged off his shirt, too. The summer sun should have made the heat unbearable, but as he pushed the kayak into the water, it was damn near pleasant.
Roman hadn’t been on a kayak before, but it seemed easy enough. He experimented in paddling until he got a good rhythm, then set off, heading south around the island. He’d make a circuit and go from there.
The main problem lay in the fact that he didn’t exactly know who he was looking for. He’d never managed to pin Allie Landers down into meeting him in person. The digging he’d done online had brought up precious little—both in details about her as an individual and pictures of her. Her social media accounts were both set to private, and the one photo he’d found of her was from ages ago. The Transcend website, which revealed more about the company’s services and vision than its founder, didn’t give more information than a contact email address. Considering it was linked with a women’s shelter, that wasn’t surprising, but it still irked him.
That said, Roman had secured deals in the past that began with even less information than he had now. He was confident he’d pull it off this time, too.
The first villa to the south had a family with two smallish children making sandcastles, so Roman kept going, starting to enjoy himself despite the fact that he much preferred the city to anything resembling nature. This didn’t feel like nature, though.
It felt a whole lot like paradise.
He made his way around the island, surveying beach by beach. There were two with families, two with groups that seemed to consist solely of men, three empty and one with a group of four women who catcalled him as he paddled past. He filed that information away to check on later. There was no telling how many friends Allie had come down here with, but he knew she wasn’t married and had no children, so at least he’d narrowed down the search.
By the time he came around the north point of the island, he was fucking exhausted. Roman spent time in the gym regularly, but the heat and the constant paddling wore on him. He steered around the outcropping of rocks and let his paddle rest across the kayak in front of him, taking a moment to roll his shoulders.
Which was right around the time he saw the woman.
She lay on her back, her arms stretched over her head, her long blond hair stark against the vivid red of her beach towel. But that wasn’t what made his breath dry up in his lungs.
It was the fact she was topless.
Her golden skin glinted in the sunlight as if she’d oiled herself before coming out to the beach, and the only thing resembling clothing she wore was a tiny triangle of indeterminable color. Her long legs bent as she shifted, her large breasts rising and falling with a slow breath.
He forgot what he was there for. Forgot that his muscles were damn near shaking with exhaustion. Forgot everything but his sudden need to see what color her nipples were.
What the fuck are you doing?
He shook his head. Going closer was inappropriate. Fuck, sitting there and staring like a goddamn creep was the height of inappropriate. It didn’t matter how mouthwatering her curves were or the fact that she’d propped herself up on her elbows to watch him.
Roman took a deep breath, and then another. It did nothing to quell his raging cockstand, but he managed to pick up the paddle and keep rowing. Whoever that woman was, no matter that he wanted to spend a whole lot of time up close and personal with her...she wasn’t Allie. The one picture he’d managed to source of the woman alone was several years old. Her goddamn senior yearbook photo. She’d been skinny to the point of being unhealthy with her hair chopped short and dyed pitch-black.
He highly doubted she looked anything like that currently.
The one defining characteristic of the women who staffed Transcend was that they were all tiny and chiseled and didn’t have a soft spot on their bodies. Beautiful, yes. Roman could appreciate all body types, but none of them had made his hands shake the same way that woman on the beach did. Soft and curvy and with breasts he ached to get his mouth on.
Knock that shit off. You aren’t here to fuck anyone, no matter how sexy she is. You’re here for business.
He’d go to dinner tonight and see if he could sniff out which of the women on the island was Allie and make his plan from there.
And if he saw the mystery woman once he’d gotten the rest of it figured out?
Roman grinned. Maybe he’d make an exception to his rule and indulge in some pleasure along with business.
He was in paradise, after all.
* * *
“How are you doing, sweetie?” Allie pulled on a sundress and headed over to check on Becka. Her friend had indulged a little too heavily on the vodka on the flight down from the city, and the short plane ride from Miami to West Island had made her sick. She’d spent the afternoon sleeping it off, but she still looked a bit green around the gills.
Becka managed a shaky smile. “I think vodka and I broke up.”
“It’s temporary.” She hesitated. “Do you want me to stay? Nurse you back to health?” She was pleasantly tired, but the draw of tonight’s menu was enough to have her itching to ride to the lodge and get a better lay of the land. Becka had been so out of sorts when they arrived, it had been a rush to get checked in and settled in the villa so she could sleep off the worst of it.
“God, no. It’s bad enough that I’ve brought shame on my family for ruining the first day of your desperately needed vacation. I’m not going to let you spend any time paying for my bad decisions. Go. Eat delicious food. Drink.”
Allie still didn’t move for the door. “Why don’t I see if the chef can make up some broth or something easy on your stomach?”
“Go, go, go. You’re on vacation. You’re not required to mother me.” She softened the words with a smile, still looking queasy.
Allie went. Becka wouldn’t thank her for staying and would only feel guilty if she did, which would distract her from resting. Tomorrow would be soon enough for them to go exploring and try out the stand-up paddleboards Allie had eyed when she’d checked out the beach.
Her face heated at the fact she’d been caught sunbathing topless. Whoever that guy was, he’d been far off enough that she couldn’t clearly see his face. Those shoulders, though... Allie shivered. Even at a distance, she’d seen the cut of his muscles and how purposefully he’d maneuvered the kayak through the turquoise waters. The island must have already gone to her head, because she’d spent a truly insane moment hoping he’d come to shore so she could get a better look at him.
Maybe more than a better look.
Allie laughed at her fanciful thoughts. Vacation hookups were all well and good, but if that was what she’d wanted, she’d chosen the wrong place to go. Isolation and relaxation were the name of the game on West Island, which was exactly what she’d craved when she let Becka talk her into booking the trip. It was the exact opposite of New York and her life there.
But now she found herself wondering if maybe something slightly more chaotic would have been a better choice. The sun and sea had soaked into her blood and the heady feeling had her convinced anything was possible. It was only a week. The perfect length of time for a fling...
If she wasn’t on a private island in the middle of the ocean without a single man in sight.
She bypassed the little golf cart that was one of the main forms of transportation here. It felt good to walk after being cooped up on the plane and then lying prone while she sunned herself. She usually taught at least one class a day at Transcend—more if she needed to cover someone else’s schedule—so being inactive wasn’t natural for her. It was only a mile or two to the restaurant and the day had started to cool as the sun reached for the horizon. It’d be downright pleasant tonight.
She’d make sure to wake early and attend one of the yoga classes offered, and the rest of the day would be filled with activities that would keep restlessness from setting in. There was even scuba diving available, though Allie wasn’t sure she was feeling that adventurous. Snorkeling? Sure. Going deeper with only a tank and a few tubes between her and drowning? That would take a whole lot more convincing.
The path was cleared and well maintained to allow the carts to drive without problems, so she let her mind wander as she fell into a natural stride that ate up the distance without tiring her out. Every once in a while, the path would branch off in different directions, some heading toward other villas, some heading deeper inland. There was a small selection of hiking trails that offered tours of the history of the island.
She made it to the restaurant easily and found it practically deserted. Allie paused in the doorway, wondering if she’d misunderstood the woman who’d checked them in. Maybe it was closed?
“Looks like it’s just you and me.”
She jumped and spun around. The man stood a respectable distance away, but his sheer size ate up the space and made her feel closed in. She froze. I’d recognize those shoulders anywhere. Confirming her suspicion, his gaze slid over her body as if he was reminding himself of what she looked like with nothing but what she’d worn on the beach. She tried to swallow past her suddenly dry throat. “You.”
“Me.” He finally looked her in the face, and she rocked back on her heels. The man was an Adonis. There was no other way to describe his blond perfection, from his hazel eyes to the square jaw to the cleft in his chin to the body that just wouldn’t quit. He might be wearing a shirt now, but the button-down did nothing to hide his muscle definition.
He held out a wide hand with equally perfect square fingers. “Let me buy you a drink?”
“We’re at an all-inclusive resort.”
His lips twitched, eyes twinkling. “Have a drink with me.”
Oh, he was good. Charm practically colored the air between them, and she had the inexplicable impulse to close the distance and stroke a finger along his jawline. To flick that cleft chin with her tongue.
Allie gave herself a shake. “Since we’re the only ones here, it’d be silly to sit apart.”
The look he gave her said he saw right through the excuse, and why not when it was pathetically flimsy? The truth was that this man was magnetic and she suspected she’d be drawn to him even in a room full of people. He waved a hand at the empty place. “Lady’s choice.”
“How magnanimous of you.”
“I try.”
She laughed and headed for the table in the middle of the small patio. There were half a dozen tables, and she picked a spot that put her back to the building and presented the best view of the ocean through a carefully curated gap in the foliage.
He eyed the view and then the chair on the other side of the table, and then he picked it up and set it adjacent to hers so they were sitting on a diagonal, rather than directly across from each other. “Nice view.”
She turned to agree—and found him staring at her.
Allie wasn’t falsely modest. Life was too short to play games with body shaming and pretending she didn’t have access to a mirror. She was pretty—beautiful when she put some effort into it—but she’d given up being skinny or petite after the agony of high school, and she wasn’t athletically built like some of the women at her gym. Sure, she had muscle beneath her softness, and she could keep up with the best of them in her spin classes, but she loved food just as much as she loved to sweat, and her curves reflected that. Some guys had a problem with that, though she didn’t keep them around as soon as comments like “Should you really be eating that?” started.
