The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(47)



She pressed her lips together to hide her smile as she unpacked her clothes from her bags to the dresser in hers and Tag’s shared room. It wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination. There was an en suite bathroom and another off the main space, which boasted a living room and kitchenette. A sliding door opened to a balcony, but no one was above them, seeing how Tag had requested the top floor. He’d mentioned he liked to be on top, giving her a saucy wink at the front desk.

Rachel could attest to that, so she hadn’t argued, simply tried not to look like a satisfied recipient of his attention.

He appeared in the doorway now, hands bracing either side of the jamb as he leaned the top half of his body into her room. Her eyes went to his biceps, bunching beneath his short T-shirt sleeves. When she redirected her gaze to his face, he was shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. I was uh…” She trailed off, at a loss for an excuse.

“Objectifying me?” His smile split into a grin, and she felt her cheeks go warm. He gave up staying away and came to her, capturing her mouth in a soft kiss. “I’m yours to use up, Rachel.” He ran both palms along her arms and goose bumps sprang to the surface of her skin. “Ready to see the bar?”

She had to blink out of the sex fantasy that had just formed. She was here for something other than pleasure.

“Oh. Okay. Sure.”

He kept hold of her hand and they headed out of the room, to the elevator, and then outside to the pools. She liked her hand in his, the way their palms fit together comfortably. Again she was struck with the memory she’d thought he was too much for her. How ridiculous was that? All of him seemed to fit her just fine.

There were two pools, one a standard square with chairs lined up like soldiers around the edges and another lagoon-shaped pool with rocks, a slide, and covered cabanas. A bar stood between the two pools, teeming with women in bikinis and men in trunks or Speedos.

“Wow. Busy.”

“What the hell…” His face pinched as he studied the area. “It’s never this disorganized.”

He kept hold of her, and she noticed that one of the women working the bar stopped what she was doing to examine their linked hands. Rachel felt her heart palpitate. For all she knew, the dark-haired beauty shaking up a fruity cocktail used to date Tag. Rachel’s stomach flopped, and she purposefully shook off the thought. Now was what mattered. The past didn’t matter, and the future would take care of itself, as it often did.

Disorganized was a good word for the bar area. The long bar in the center of both pools was on a limited amount of concrete, forcing drinkers to smash together in a crooked line while waiting their turn to order. There was nowhere for the people ordering drinks to stand while they waited, and those who had received theirs hadn’t immediately returned to their designated areas, hanging out and further clogging the bar.

“Hey, Tag. Aloha!”

Rachel turned her attention to a wide-framed, wide-bodied Hawaiian man with a kind smile. He wore the loudest royal blue shirt she’d ever seen, matching the bright blue sunglasses resting on his wavy, short hair.

“Greg.” He shook the other man’s hand and then introduced her. “This is Rachel. She’s advising on the bar project.” Tag turned to her. “Greg’s our on-site maintenance manager.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Bar project?” Greg’s eyebrows went up in interest.

“Yeah. Speaking of, what’s going on with this mess?” Tag gestured to the crowd.

“Swim-up bar’s shut.” Greg pointed to an area on the far side of the pool with the waterfall. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but sure enough, palm-frond decor was covering the bar and there was a small CLOSED sign hanging from one of the bamboo poles supporting the roof.

“No one cleared that with me.” Tag took a step closer to Greg. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Sinks were acting up or something.”

“How about you find out what the ‘or something’ is and get back with me on how fast you can have it repaired?” Tag’s voice dipped low with authority, sending a shiver through her. She’d never heard him speak like that. Who knew he could be sexier? “How long has it been closed?”

Greg, despite his size, looked chagrined when he answered, “Few weeks.”

“I want an answer in an hour.”

“You got it, boss.”

Tag held Greg’s gaze and extended a hand for a farewell handshake. “Thanks for taking care of this.”

Greg’s next smile was one of relief. When Tag released him, Greg looked to Rachel. “Enjoy the island.”

When he hustled off—and yes, even at his size, it was a full hustle—she smiled up at Tag, who’d reclaimed her hand.

“What?” His eyelids slipped, his entire demeanor snapping back into relax mode.

“You pack a lot of authority for a guy so laid-back.” She wasn’t able to resist him either way.

“I know how to get what I want.” He lowered his face to hers and stole a quick kiss. Against her mouth, he muttered, “You personally know how authoritative I can be, Dimples. You want to transfer that control, you let me know.”

He angled through the crowd as Rachel turned over that enticing idea.

They sidled behind the bar, not an easy task with the bar area packed and three bartenders slinging booze left and right. The two men and the woman behind the bar wore smiles on their faces and they kept the banter going as they worked.

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