arrogant attitude would
translate into his kisses, as well. Big mistake. He’d been confident and knowing, but there had also been a
careful tenderness in the way he cupped her head and worked his mouth over hers and... She had to stop
thinking about it. It had been one kiss. She’d initiated. He’d closed.
And the encounter had kept her up all night.
Big mistake.
Cal drove her crazy. He was cocky, too sure of himself and bossy. From the moment they’d met as kids,
he’d made it his life’s mission to oppose her any and every way he could. Now he had the Fiesta contract in
his sights, and if she was very honest with herself, he had as good a chance of winning as she did. She
didn’t like to lose. Who did? So, no, it wasn’t surprising she didn’t like Cal Brennan.
Cal didn’t wear his thoughts and his emotions on his face, but he’d made those sexy, growly noises, so
that had to be a positive sign, right? He kissed with his eyes closed, and he had impossibly long eyelashes.
When she’d snuck a peek, he’d seemed both hungry and determined. And the touch of his callused
fingers... Well, letting go of Cal had been surprisingly difficult.
She eyed the hotel. The cruise ship execs had unexpectedly scheduled a meeting for this afternoon,
claiming they had a decision to share, and her new policy was no more kisses until she won. She needed to
focus on getting the contract—not on his broad shoulders or sexy presence. Cal was a take-charge kind of
man and alpha to the core, so waiting guaranteed she didn’t lose control of the situation. Win, and she’d
have Cal to herself on her own terms for one hot night. Seeing him give up his tightly honed control was
simply a bonus. Cal wasn’t the kind of man who took orders in bed—but for one night, he’d take them
from her. Her big, bad rescue swimmer wouldn’t like it at all, but too darned bad. He’d be all hers.
She couldn’t wait.
Right on cue, a certain sexy SEAL rode up on his motorcycle. She had a moment to wonder where he
was coming from—because his dive shop was right around the corner—but maybe he’d been out at the
Brennan place. His family lived on Discovery Island year-round and had an enormous, rambling old house
a couple of miles outside town. The home sported the kind of cheerful, shabby chic she’d seen on the pages
of various magazines and was a far cry from her own family’s summer cabin. Her cabin was a euphemism
for “four walls held together with baling wire and duct tape.” She’d probably wake up in the ocean one day.
Since she’d spent the morning doing the books at Dream Big and Dive, she’d been just around the
corner, and she’d walked. Which—she shot a glance at her sandals with their three-inch heels—had been a
stupid thing to do. Her knee would hurt like the devil later tonight, but she’d chosen the shoes because right
now she needed to feel sexy. Powerful.
Cal should have looked out of place wearing a suit and straddling a motorcycle, but he didn’t. He also
probably had another PowerPoint slide presentation, which he’d use to wow the assembled minions, in the
messenger bag thrown over his shoulder. She hadn’t slept well, which she blamed on Cal. If he hadn’t been
such a good kisser, she wouldn’t be gritty-eyed from all the tossing and turning she’d done. She headed for
the door. The sooner the meeting started, the sooner she could win the contract and put all this behind her.
“Ignoring me?” The knowing rasp of his voice almost had her pausing.
Almost.
The truth was: absolutely. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking when she’d kissed him. And the
blame rested solely on her shoulders. As did their bet, when she thought about it. Whatever. Shaking Cal
out of his complacency was practically a public service.
Kissing him had nothing to do with how he’d made her feel.
Absolutely nothing at all... Liar, liar, pants on fire, the voice in her head chanted,
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