Crew had always been tenacious, never willing to back down from a challenge. His father said it was because he came from good stock. And his dad seemed to have the Midas touch. Crew found it a thrill to know he was making smart choices, and he had a better relationship with his father than he’d ever thought he’d have again.
His father had thrown him and his siblings out to fly or to die, and changed all their lives forever. Never before had he looked himself in a mirror and felt shame, but after the first six months of sweating it out pounding nails into wood on the broken-down resort, he’d woken up one day to realize he was a different man. After a year, he’d called his father to apologize.
Now, finally, he was ready to open his new resort, and he was proud for people to walk through her doors. Yes, this thing of beauty before him couldn’t be called anything but a woman, because her curves were smooth, her lines flawless, and she’d been transformed by his blood, sweat and…well, not tears, but she’d gotten everything else she could out of him.
As he gazed in adoration at the sleek and glistening entryway, he felt a pang in his heart. He knew to sell her would be bittersweet, but that was the deal. Get the business up and running, turn it around, and then make a profit.
It wouldn’t be easy, but a smile flitted across his lips when he thought of doing it all over again. His father had laid down the law, setting the ultimate challenge, and the old man had won, because Crew was changed forever now, and a man his dad could be proud of. Crew had discovered what he excelled at, and he would embrace that gift, even if he left a piece of himself behind each time he left the old and ventured on to a new project.
The old resort had been in shambles, the corporation going bankrupt, and it was walking away, leaving the place to fall into the sea. She wasn’t tall, only ten stories high, but each floor had a theme, and each room was fit for royalty. Crew’s absolute favorite floor was the flamboyant thirties. He had to dedicate a floor to the year the resort had originally opened, of course.
The wide hallways were decorated with fine pieces of art and vintage antiques he’d uncovered in his high-powered hunting. Fresh flowers decorated delicate tables; the colorful bouquets would draw the eye of every customer who stepped from the cherry-wood-lined elevators. Hand-fashioned carved railings led up the wide staircases, and the walls were painted in soft golden hues. Dazzling chandeliers glowed in the center of each room and down the grand corridors.
He’d poured his entire soul into the place, and he wanted his clientele to walk through the doors and instantly feel as if they were in a luxurious wonderland. His staff would treat each and every one like the most important guest in the building, and they all would want to return over and over again.
He’d hired only the best cooks, and his restaurants would soon be famed for tantalizing entrées and enticing ambience. A small theater room was decorated with dark colors, soft lighting and red velvet curtains above a stage where live bands and professional vocalists would perform. The resort planned to cater to its guests’ every whim, wanting no one to feel the need to step outside onto the island for anything except the abundant gifts of nature.
Half of the rooms faced an exquisite stretch of the Pacific Ocean, and half faced the inner workings of the island. Crew’s preference, of course, was the water, but there were many who would want to open their French doors and step out on the balcony to watch the entertainment below of a town that played hard, and never stopped moving.
The price tag at his resort wasn’t cheap, but the clientele he attracted wouldn’t bat an eyelash. They would pull out their wallets, open them willingly, and, in turn, they would get to experience a once-in-a-lifetime vacation.
A stay on his small corner of Catalina would have them floating back home, dreaming in vivid color with digital animation where before they arrived it was only in black-and-white Claymation. The longing for a return, for paradise regained, would begin the minute they left the resort.
A burst of adrenaline caused Crew’s stomach to tense as he took a stroll around the outside of the building. His staff was busy, doing all the last-minute preparations needed for a successful grand opening. As the small island awoke to a new day, he awaited the twelve o’clock hour — when the resort doors would open to the public for the first time in ten years.
Though she wouldn’t be his for too long, when he finally proved her a success, the months he did have her would be glorious, and he would set the standard for the staff to follow. When he finally sold, under the deal with his father, it would be only to someone who would give the Catalina Couture Resort the same tender loving care that he did.
As he stepped back inside, he was pleased that his marbled floors gleamed, too clean to admit a single germ on their pristine surface. The detailed stained glass sparkled in brilliant colors, the flowers majestic fragrance filled the room, and the Italian granite counters shone. The last of the edibles were being put away in the kitchens, and the final inspection was being performed on the rooms. His project was a work of beauty and she was soon to open her doors.
Chapter Three
Gazing at the man walking from the resort, Haley felt her blood racing as she firmed her shoulders and gave herself a pep talk, which sadly, wasn’t unusual for her. Though she put forth the appearance of a woman who had it all together, she didn’t know how she pulled it off.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered to herself, then felt anger well up inside. She was tired of backing down, tired of being afraid of rejection. She wasn’t the horrid being that her evil grandparents had continually made her believe she was. She was a strong, beautiful woman who could speak to a handsome stranger without fear and trembling.
As a matter of fact, Crew Storm didn’t feel like a stranger to her, because she’d researched the heck out of the man. She needed to know him inside and out if she were to ask him what she was about to — that was, if she didn’t chicken out.
Her college professor had suggested a summer assignment just for her. She was to approach a stranger and ask for a date. It didn’t need to be anything more than a ten-minute coffee date, but she still had to ask a man out. He felt this would help her to get over her fears. At first she’d thought he’d gone mad, but as the idea had sunk in, she realized he was right. She could and would ask a man on a date. She just needed someone to teach her how to do it properly.
Why had she taken the human-sexuality course in the first place? It wasn’t as if it were going to be a part of her career. She was an archaeology major, eager to explore the ruins of ancient civilizations. Living people were trouble; Haley wanted to focus on the dead. Or did she?
She knew why she’d taken the course. She was tired of being afraid of men. It was ridiculous to make it to the age of twenty-six and still be a virgin. She’d been infatuated with a man on her college campus for two years and yet she couldn’t work up the courage to ask him out on a date.
Now, she was on Catalina Island with a free two-week stay in an exclusive resort, and it was the perfect time for her to learn how to be a consummate seductress. If she could convince this man to teach her, she could go back to her college and ask the guy of her dreams out to lunch — maybe even dinner, if she worked up enough courage.
Haley watched cautiously as Crew Storm checked every inch of his resort, not the slightest possible flaw invisible to his fastidious blue eyes. If there was something wrong, he would find it. The man’s strides were long and powerful, as if every step he took had a purpose, and there was no wasted energy in his movements.
He was tall — intimidatingly tall — standing a few inches over six feet, making her feel almost dwarflike at five foot six. Working on the island had obviously been good to him. His tan was a creamy golden color, making the blue of his eyes glow from beneath his thick, dark lashes.
Without a doubt, however, his hair was his best feature — just long enough for a woman to run her fingers through, then grab a handful and guide his mouth in the direction she most desired.
Although she hadn’t spoken the words aloud, Haley’s face flamed; she looked around, afraid someone nearby could actually hear her thoughts. What was wrong with her? She didn’t want to appreciate Crew Storm’s beauty; she wanted to hire him.
She could do this. When she’d found out she’d won the dream vacation, she’d hopped on her computer and researched all she could about the island and the resort. She’d found out the owner was an eligible bachelor and babe magnet. He had a new woman on his arm every week and was exactly the kind of man she needed to teach her how to be what she wanted to be.
“Do not chicken out!” she snarled under her breath before stepping from the shadows and making her way down the beautiful slate walkway. She’d parked around the corner, since the resort wasn’t open yet and management wasn’t allowing in cars, trying to prevent an early mob.
Though she should be trying to be a femme fatale at the moment, she was woefully underdressed in her loose linen blouse and jean capri pants. She’d been in school for the past three years, plus working part-time at a small stationary store and she never had the energy to dress up or worry about clothes. It had taken her five years of therapy to work up the courage to go to college in the first place, or she would have been finished with her education by now.
Though she’d received a large inheritance when she was nineteen, she hated using the money because her grandparents hadn’t wanted her to have it. They’d just never made a will, and because she was their only heir, the money had come to her. She was sure that if they’d taken the time to designate beneficiaries, they would have left it all to their precious birds rather than to her.
Still, there were times it was necessary for her to dip into her substantial funds. This was one of those times.
It was now or never.
“Are you lost?” Haley stopped the shiver fighting to travel down her spine from just the deep timbre of his voice. Oh yes, she had chosen well. This man could teach her all she wanted to know. He was sex personified.
“No. I’m looking for you, Mr. Storm.”
Nervous tension filled her as his gorgeous eyes gave her body the once-over. When they reached her face, she had the feeling that he’d checked her out and found her wanting.
Too bad!
She’d planned this down to the smallest detail, and she’d make him help her.
“And what can I do for you, miss?”
Oh, the promise in his tone was what women’s wet dreams were made of. She knew he spoke to every woman this way. She’d studied him, read about how effortlessly he flirted — how women fell at his feet. With one snap of his fingers, females young and old were panting, their salivary glands in overdrive.
“Haley Sutherland,” she said a little breathlessly as she stuck out her hand.
After a slight pause, he grasped her fingers and squeezed, then slowly lifted their entwined hands to his mouth and ran his lips across the top of her knuckles, his warm breath brushing over her skin.
“This!” Haley practically shouted as excitement filled her.
Crew’s normal cool seemed to be shaken; he stared at her in confusion. The expression on his face was almost comical as he stood frozen with his lips only a couple of inches from her skin.
