A Princess for Christmas Page 7

  Jake chuckled.

  “And if you want to dance with her, you might want to change.”

  Jake looked down at his dark navy suit and blue striped tie. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “You look like you’re heading to a convention for undertakers.” Will unknotted his own tie and tossed it over the seat. The silk fabric unfurled in a cacophony of red, green and white. “Here. Wear mine.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Act like a fun guy, Jake, and one of these days, you might just turn back into one.”

  Fun. The very thing he’d proposed to Mariabella earlier. Trouble was, Jake wasn’t so sure he was ready for fun in his life again. It was far easier to stay in the familiar world of work. Jake reached for the door handle, then heard a familiar click.

  “Wear the tie,” Will said. “Surprise her. You might surprise yourself in the process. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “For one, she might laugh her head off.”

  “So fire me, if she does. And if she kisses you instead, I want a raise.” Will winked.

  Kiss Mariabella Romano? Just the thought sent a roar of anticipation running through Jake. Today, he’d almost…

  He pictured her lush lips beneath his, her curvy body in his arms, her thick dark hair tangled in his hands.

  He changed his tie.

  “Get involved,” Will said before Jake got out of the car. “It won’t kill you.”

  “Maybe,” Jake said. “Maybe not.”

  Outside, a gust of winter wind cut down the sidewalk, cold, sharp, vicious. Jake inhaled, and drew his coat closed against the sudden frigid temperature. Mother Nature’s fury held nothing over the ice binding his heart, a self-protective shield he’d thought would keep him from ever feeling that pain again.

  But as he gripped the door handle to the Harborside Town Hall, he wondered if he was fooling himself. Did avoiding a topic mean it went away—or was he just killing time, filling those empty holes with balance sheets and architectural plans?

  He entered the building, and was immediately greeted by a rock band belting out Christmas songs, a crowd of people filling the dance floor and milling about the perimeter of the room, and a burst of red and green decorations, broadcasting Christmas spirit loud and clear.

  His gaze skipped over all of it. The logical, left side of Jake’s brain told him to move around the room, to start networking, warm up the residents of Harborside, start convincing the more reluctant sellers that this deal was in their best interests. He had a limited window of time, after all, and every minute he wasted cost the company.

  Except, he couldn’t seem to focus on anything except finding Mariabella Romano. He scanned the room, seeking her familiar face, telling himself he’d start with her. She was the most logical choice, after all. Head of the Community Development Committee, and all that.

  Uh-huh.

  Then why did his pulse kick up a dozen notches when he spied her across the room? Why did he start weaving through the crowd, mumbling vague hellos to the half dozen or so people he’d already met in Harborside, instead of focusing on the job at hand?

  “You look…stunning,” he said when he reached Mariabella. The rest of the room dropped away, the space seeming to close in to just him. And her.

  She’d accented her curves with an emerald sweater in a V-neck, decorated with rhinestones that peppered the front like snowflakes. A black skirt cut away from her knees in a swirl of ruffles, and drew his eye down to spiky black-and-silver high heels that only made her already amazing legs look even more amazing. She’d curled her hair, and piled it on top of her head in a riot of curls that begged a man to find every pin, and release the tendrils one by one.

  “Thank you.” A slight blush filled her cheeks. “Is that how you convince everyone to sell you their properties, Mr. Lattimore?”

  “Please, call me Jake.” He took a step closer, his gaze catching her green eyes, the color as deep and vibrant as a forest on a stormy day.

  “Jake.”

  His name rolled off her tongue in a sweet song he’d never heard another woman sing. Impartiality kept yielding to testosterone, making it impossible to think about anything but kissing her.

  Oh, he was in trouble.

  She stepped forward and ran a finger down his tie. A smile curved across her face. “What’s this?”

  Her touch nearly sent him over the edge. He drew in a breath, fought the urge to take her in his arms. “A” little Christmas spirit.”

  “I like it. You surprise me, Jake. I didn’t think you were a snowman fan.”

  He sure as hell was now.

  The band segued into a slow song, and couples began making their way onto the dance floor. Jake put out his hand. “Shall we?”

  She hesitated, then nodded, took his hand and followed him out to the dance floor. Her palm was delicate, she had long, fine fingers, and when she put one hand on his back, the other still clasped inside his larger one, he thought how like a hummingbird she was. Fragile, yet strong, determined, and impossible to pin down.

  “I thought this was business only,” she said.

  “It’s Christmas. Surely we can have a little fun, too.” Will would have laughed if he could have heard Jake right now.

  They began to waltz in a slow, easy circle, Mariabella’s steps surer and better than his. Clearly, she’d done this a time—or a hundred.

  “You’re not only beautiful, you’re a wonderful dancer,” he said.

  “Is that how you get what you want in business? By sweet-talking the other side?”

  He chuckled. “No. I don’t usually call the people I’m in the midst of negotiating with ‘stunning.’”

  Her green eyes met his. “Is that what this is, a negotiation?”

  “Isn’t that what all dancing is? A negotiation?” Except he’d stopped doing any kind of business the minute he’d stepped on the dance floor. Something else had started between them, something far more serious and with far higher stakes than a real estate transaction.

  He knew it. She knew it.

  A smile curved across her face, lighting her eyes, and lighting a flame in Jake’s gut, one he had thought died a long time ago. He found his hold on her tightening ever so slightly, his head dipping just a little, enough that if he wanted to, he could close the gap between them with a whisper—

  And kiss her.

  “If this is a negotiation,” Mariabella said softly, “then that means one of is going to lose, yes?”

  They stepped to the right, her body moving in perfect rhythm with his. Jake moved a half inch closer, and the silky ends of her hair brushed against his cheek. The scent of raspberries and almonds wafted up to tease at his senses. An errant curl had tugged loose from one of the bobby pins holding it in place, and Jake fought the urge to tug the tendril down, to let it slip through his fingers.

  “Perhaps,” he whispered, his voice nearly a growl, as desire roared in his gut, “we can compromise instead.”

  “You do not strike me as the type of man who compromises.” She took a step forward, bringing her torso in contact with his for an all too brief second. Every sane thought in Jake’s head disappeared.

  “And what about you?” He slid his palm up her back and twirled her to the right. She didn’t miss a step, matching him move for move. “Are you a compromiser, or a winner?”

  “Oh, I am very accustomed to always getting exactly what I want,” she said. “To people always doing what I tell them to.”

  “Pity.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I am exactly the same way.”

  “Then it looks like we have a problem.”

  Her perfume intoxicated him. The curve of her neck riveted his attention, and every step she took knocked him off guard. For a man used to being in control, the feeling was new, unexpected. “Or maybe,” Jake said, as the band began to sing the last few notes, “we’ll find a way to make this work out for both of us.”

  Th
e song ended, and the band announced they were taking a break. People began to leave the dance floor, and music from a CD player replaced the live instruments.

  “Or maybe,” Mariabella said, stepping away from him and breaking the spell between them, “one of us will win. Thank you for the dance, Mr. Lattimore. I think it will be smart if we stick to business instead of fun. Don’t you agree?”

  She headed for a table laden with appetizers and a massive bowl of red punch. He took two steps to follow her, then turned away.

  And did the smart thing.

  Got back to work.

  What had she been thinking?

  For five minutes, Mariabella had let herself get swept up in a dance, in a romantic moment, fooled into thinking the arms around her held interest in her, not her gallery. She’d forgotten the identity she’d worked so hard to protect, forgotten the life she’d built, and considered—

  Considered kissing him.

  Again.

  Twice in one day.

  She’d broken the cardinal rule her father had drilled into her. The one thing he had insisted on over and over, and made clear in the way he lived his life and interacted with his family.

  Reason over emotion. Never, ever let your desires do the thinking for you. That was the kind of mistake that started wars, for goodness sake.

  “He must be a Leo,” Carmen whispered in her ear.

  “A what?” Mariabella asked, turning away from the dance floor, and focusing on the trays of food, even though her appetite had disappeared.

  “You know, the astrological sign? He’s like a lion on the prowl tonight.”

  “I have no idea who you are talking about.”

  Carmen propped a fist on her hip. “Did you just dance with Mr. Invisible? Because I thought I saw you waltzing around the floor with Prince Charming a second ago.”

  “He is no prince. Trust me, I know. And far from charming.”

  Carmen leaned against the table and watched Jake cross the room. “Sure looks like every prince I’ve read about in a fairy tale. Tall, dark, handsome—”

  “Incredibly boorish, self-centered and after one thing.”

  “A beautiful princess?”

  The word hit Mariabella with the force of a rogue wave. She swallowed hard and glanced away for a second, hoping that surprise didn’t show on her face. “Well, he should look elsewhere.” A skittish laugh escaped her.

  “Why? I mean, you’re here.”

  “What?” Alarm raised the pitch in the word.

  Carmen draped an arm around her boss. “In case you haven’t noticed, you are a very eligible catch. I’ve even heard Cletus say he’d marry you and that guy is the biggest hermit to come along since Bigfoot.”

  Mariabella laughed. “Cletus? He just likes my cooking.”

  “Come on, Mari. You’re gorgeous. You have that accent thing going on, and you’re…mysterious.”

  “Did they spike the punch this year?” Mariabella asked. Change the subject. Get the focus on something other than herself and mysteries to be solved. “I think I’ll try a cup and see.”

  “Men love that stuff,” Carmen went on. “They love women who are a puzzle.”

  Mariabella ladled some punch into cup. Gulped half of it down. “No. No liquor.”

  “Let me give you one hint about guys. You don’t want to play Mystery Woman for too long.”

  “Did you see these cookies? They are like little Christmas trees. Cute, yes?” Mariabella grabbed one but didn’t eat it.

  Carmen didn’t move off topic. “It’s like doing the Sunday crossword. That sucker’s hard. Eventually you give up because you get frustrated. Unless you’re like a genius, and then maybe you stick it out. Most of us, we just let it go after twenty-nine down, know what I mean?”

  “Jake Lattimore is the puzzle, not me,” Mariabella said.

  Carmen grinned. “A lot of women wouldn’t mind figuring out what’s making him run across and down.”

  “Easy. He wants to buy this town.” Mariabella wagged a cookie in Carmen’s direction. “Do not let his smile fool you.”

  “So you did notice his smile.”

  “Only because he insists on using it as a lethal weapon.”

  Carmen laughed. “He’s not that bad.”

  “He wants to take over Harborside, Carmen. What is good about that?”

  Carmen leaned in to Mariabella and lowered her voice. “Did you ever think this town could use some extra oomph? That maybe its destiny is to become something more than a sleepy little place for people to work on their tans in the summer?”

  “You have no idea how that could ruin a place,” Mariabella said. “How a man like him can destroy a perfect world.”

  “I’ve been reading his auras, Mariabella, and I think his intentions are all for good. You should—”

  “No,” Mariabella said, interrupting Carmen before she could add another argument to the pile. Or worse, return to the Prince Charming and princess matchmaking conversation. That could lead to nothing good. “What I should do is gather the Harborside business owners together so we can come up with a plan to stop him. Before it’s too late.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  HE WATCHED them leave, one after another, following Mariabella Romano out of the room like chicks behind a mother duck. Every one of the people he had talked to that morning left the dance.

  He leaned against the wall and smiled.

  Well, hell. She was a step ahead of him, and he admired that. It had been a while since he’d met such a challenge—on a personal and business level.

  Not to mention such a mystery. He’d spent an entire day with Mariabella Romano and knew less about her than he knew about the doorman who worked at Lattimore Properties.

  And that guy just started working for the company last week.

  Jake rubbed his chin, and plotted a new strategy. Looked like he had an uprising in the making. He had to get creative.

  And that meant outflanking Miss Romano, before she did the same to him.

  Except, this time, a part of him resisted. Somewhere deep inside Jake, a rebellion had started, a whisper telling him to back away. To let this project go. To let Mariabella keep her town just as it was.

  Why?

  He’d never done that before. Never treated anything he’d pursued with kid gloves. This was business, pure and simple. Heart didn’t figure into the equation.

  That was dangerous thinking. Bad thinking. He had to nip that in the bud and quick. No way was he going to deviate from the plan, from the proven formula.

  His father would never approve of him thinking with anything resembling sentimentality. Once upon a time, Lawrence Lattimore had been a man who’d run his company with his emotions. But as he’d told Jake over and over, he hadn’t gotten rich until he’d left his heart on the curb and started thinking with his brains.

  And neither would Jake. No. He’d convince Mariabella Romano that a Lattimore Resort was a good thing for this town—and do it in a way she’d never forget.

  A half hour later, Mariabella reentered the room, her business owner ducks again following, then dispersing. The band had started up again, launching into a rousing rendition of a popular Christmas carol. Someone in a snowman suit climbed onto the stage and began gyrating along to the song, boogying close enough to the cymbals to provide an extra clash here and there.

  Jake crossed to Mariabella, his pulse kicking up as the gap between them closed. Damn. She had a certain mystique about her, like a veil blocking anyone from seeing the real woman. Even as he fought his attraction to her and told himself to stick to business, the rest of his body mutinied.

  “I’d like to make you an offer,” he said.

  Wariness filled her gaze. “An offer?”

  “Come with me tomorrow. And let me show you what a Lattimore resort can be like. Find out firsthand what my company can bring to Harborside.” She began to protest, but he put up a finger and laid it against her lips. When he touched her mouth, a surge of desire roared th
rough him. He lowered his hand.

  “I can’t possibly leave. I have an opening in two days and—”

  “You have an assistant. Let her assist.”

  “I—”

  “If you want to battle the enemy, what better way to do so than to see exactly what you’re up against?”

  He would give her a visual image—one she couldn’t argue with. Let her see the dollars and sense in his designs. In one of the diamonds of the Lattimore jewelry case. Then surely all her arguments about a megahotel would disappear.

  She considered him. “All right, I’ll go. But do not think I can be persuaded by a fancy room or a steak dinner. I am not like other women. At all.”

  Then she walked away, leaving Jake even more mystified than he had been when the evening started.

  Who was this woman? And where exactly had she come from?

  Mariabella loved mornings. But not early mornings.

  She stood outside the gallery, shivering in her winter coat, at a few minutes before four, and wondered what insanity had driven her to agree to Jake Lattimore’s proposal last night. The dark wrapped around her with an icy chill, the boardwalk eerily quiet, everything still closed up for the night. Behind her, the ocean whooshed back and forth, whispering its constant music.

  The limo glided down the street, tires crackling on the half-frozen road. Mariabella didn’t wait for Will to open her door. She hopped inside and closed the door, glad to be cocooned in the heated leather interior.

  “I would have been happy to pick you up in front of your house,” Jake said.

  She knew Jake Lattimore had no idea who she really was, but still, she wanted to put as many layers of protection between herself and her true identity as she could. Hence, meeting him at the gallery this morning. “I had some work to do before I left.”

  “You sound like me. No time for a personal life.”

  She laughed. “Small business owner. It goes with the territory.”

  “It’s the same for big business owners.” He handed her a cup of coffee, and she thanked him. “What do you know? We have something in common.”

  Mariabella simply sipped her coffee. The blend was hearty but wonderful. The rich, warm aroma helped awaken Mariabella’s senses, and draw her into the land of the living, despite the ridiculously early hour. “I can’t believe you found coffee this early.”