Bound for Me (Be for Me #4)(43)

“And that’s not a good thing?”

“Why would it be?” She threw him a look. “So it’s just a fancy place for spoilt people with too much money to come and hang out together? And feel even more exclusive?”

“It’s not like that, most of our guests truly love the snow. Love skiing.”

She actually shuddered.

“You don’t like the snow?”

“It’s cold and wet. What’s to like?”

Uh huh, she’d really woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

He laughed. “Yeah, like you don’t like ice. Let me show you the ballroom.” He turned briskly, before she felled him with the death-look. He knew she was just going to loathe the ultimate showpiece.

Sure enough, she stood in the center of the vast room, looking up at the three massive chandeliers, then at the series of wide, fireplaces, the gilt-edged mirrors. Her eyes were wide, but shadows were deepening within them.

“You have many parties?” she asked.

“Too many,” he admitted. “We’re getting lots of wedding requests but I limit those.”

“To keep it exclusive?”

“Of course.”

“Because you couldn’t have the ordinary riff-raff here enjoying themselves, only the spoilt predatory types.”

He laughed. “People like to feel like they’re coming somewhere special. We have guests who make it a once in a lifetime trip and others who come year round. They all are treated the same. I never wanted to be a party-planner. But the amount some families are willing to pay is too much to ignore. And if it keeps numbers down while the bottom line, up, then that’s all good.”

“Numbers down?” She shook her head. “Unreal.”

“Why? No one likes crowds.”

“Is that why you like to keep your restaurant so empty?” She turned limpid eyes on him and moved beyond the large circular tables and into the dance area.

He laughed. “We don’t do as badly as you’d like to think. Yes, St Clair’s is the most popular, but that doesn’t mean it’s the best.”

“You go on thinking that if it makes you feel better,” she purred.

“You think you’re the best behind the bar?” To his surprise, he saw her shoulders stiffen. Her head lift.

“You know I am,” she said.

“And you’re teaching Dante some tricks.”

“A few.”

“Where did you train?” He followed her onto the dancefloor. She’d definitely tensed.

“The International Academy of YouTube.”

Ah. Self-taught. Self-motivated. Smart. “No formal qualifications?”

She turned and walked off the dance floor. “I did finish school.”

“Congratulations. And then I’m guessing you went straight into full time work.”

“Exactly.”

So defensive. Had she wanted to study but couldn’t? Was she saving for it now? He’d bet on it. So why was she here and not using the money her father had gotten from the sale of their hotel to study?

“Presumably you have Ivy League qualifications coming out your ears,” she grumbled.

He smiled, pleased she was curious about him too. “Actually no. I went straight into work too. Studied while working.”

“So you’ve been here your whole life?”

“Pretty much.”

She turned just before the wide doorway, her eyes glittered. “Can’t handle it in the real world?”

“Why would I want to.” He stood under one of the crystal chandeliers and spread his arms wide. “When I have this?”

And to really ram the point home, he took her to the Sanctuary. Showed her the indoor pool that had an infinity effect that he still couldn’t figure how the architects had gotten to work.

“What’s your verdict?” he asked, having given her ten minutes to just look.

“Jury’s still out on many things.” She gazed over the pool, but a defeated expression flickered in her eyes. “It does look perfect.” She turned, ran her gaze over him. “Absolutely perfect.”

Just like that he was hard. Correction. Harder.

“You use the pool?” she asked.

“Every day. And the gym.” He hadn’t shown her that yet.

“For a couple hours?” Her cheeks pinked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, surprised. “How did you know?”

“You don’t get your kind of muscle definition without serious training. It helps you sleep?”

“Usually.”

Her lashes lowered. “You didn’t sleep well last night?”

“My ribs were sore.” Which was true, but not what had kept him awake.

“Of course.”

“Would you like to make use of the spa? If you want to sample any of the options, I can arrange it.”

“Oh, you do the massages?” Her lips curved wickedly. “Didn’t you say you’ve done all the jobs at the resort at some point or other?”

He realized she was doing it deliberately. That all his great plans to stay close, to touch, to tempt her with simmering looks… were exactly what she was doing to him. Only her talk was more tart. Her looks more effective.