The Dare Collection: July 2018. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
handing out snorkels and life vests. Allie slipped out of Roman’s grasp and headed for Becka. Her friend gave her a significant look. “I thought you two were going to go at it right there.”
Her face flamed, but she tried to laugh it off. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous if it’s true.” Becka grinned. “Get it, girl.” Her gaze went over Allie’s shoulder and her eyebrows inched up. “Would you look at that?”
She turned around in time to see one of the other women saunter up to Roman. Her bikini was tiny enough to border on indecent, and she wore it with utter confidence. Normally, that would have been enough for Allie to want to give her a high five, but with the way the brunette was eye-fucking Roman, the only thing Allie wanted to high-five was her face—with a chair. She sidled up to him, all flirtatious moves and sweet smiles, and placed her hand on his arm, leaning in so her barely covered breasts pressed against his biceps.
He took off his sunglasses and looked down at the spots where she touched him with such coldness that she actually jumped back a step. Roman gave her one last long look that wasn’t in the least bit friendly and then turned to take his snorkel gear from their guide. He donned it quickly, dropped his sunglasses on top of his towel and slipped into the water.
All without saying a word.
Becka whistled under her breath. “He gets a nine for takedown, with a plus-two bonus for dramatic exit.”
Allie snorted and then tried to cover the sound with a cough. “You’re horrible.”
“No, what’s horrible was that attempt to poach your man.” She spoke just loud enough that there was no way the other woman didn’t hear her. “Who the hell does that? He was two seconds from dragging you into the ocean to bang you against the side of the boat and she thinks she has a chance?” Becka tsked. “Girl’s got issues.”
Allie smacked her friend lightly even though she agreed with everything Becka had said. All her worries seemed silly in the face of what had just happened. Hell, they were silly even before Roman rebuffed the woman. A fling in paradise. Don’t complicate things for no damn reason.
Easier said than done.
ROMAN ENJOYED THE hell out of the day. The weird tension riding Allie disappeared once they got into the water, and they spent several hours exploring the reef and then floating in the waves. By the time the boat dropped them back to the island, she was tucked comfortably under his arm and chatting animatedly with Becka. Roman kept expecting her friend to say...something...about their arrangement, but Becka seemed content to hang out as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
He drove them both back to their villa and left the women there. Though he wanted to take Allie back to his place, he recognized that she needed a little space.
Frankly, he could use a little space himself.
Roman had never been more conflicted in his life. He liked Allie. He wanted to see her succeed. Fuck, he just flat-out wanted her. But she was right this morning. There was a lot more to take into account than what they’d experienced together on West Island.
With that in mind, he strode into his villa and sat down with the papers he’d stashed there the day before. As much as Roman wanted Allie to give him the information voluntarily, the truth of the matter was that she was blocking him. She had her reasons for not wanting to open up, and he respected that, but this wasn’t about his growing feelings for her—it was business.
He had to separate the two.
He couldn’t afford not to.
She needed his help. She just didn’t know it yet. If he let her wait until she was comfortable talking about this stuff with him—if that ever happened—the opportunity would pass and she could lose everything.
He needed to know what he’d missed about that damn gym, and he needed to know now. Stomping down on the guilt that tried to dissuade him, Roman sat down and fanned out the papers. He started at the beginning—with Allie and her family.
A story that he’d seen played out before. Alcoholic father. A mother who fled with her child when the abuse transferred to her daughter. A hard life lived, but which didn’t stop Allie from graduating from college with honors and very little student debt. She’d worked her ass off to get Transcend up and running with money her mother had left her when the woman passed away three years ago. The shelter was set up under a nonprofit bearing Allie’s mother’s name.
But a successful nonprofit took a lot of work and shmoozing, and Allie obviously didn’t have a taste for it. It didn’t bring in enough to cover the costs, so she’d been draining the income generated by the gym—and her own personal savings.
Roman shook his head. It was an easy fix. Pass off the nonprofit to someone else, franchise Transcend and things would even out—and transfer from red back into the black.
So why was she so resistant to the idea?
Once he knew the answer to that, he’d know how to play things. He sighed. Except it isn’t that simple. This wasn’t a prospective client he could manipulate into doing what he wanted without remorse. This was Allie. He didn’t want to hurt her, even if it was ultimately for her own good. He wanted her to trust him—to let him help her.
He kept reading. Her abusive father was horrible, but it didn’t explain why she was so determined to do this alone. The woman Roman had started to get to know over the last couple days was strong and smart, but not a control freak like he’d expected. That was the only thing that would explain her insistence on not allowing the investor he represented to buy into the company.
Frustrated, Roman flipped through the papers again. Nothing, and he’d essentially breached her trust by doing this search to begin with. Fuck. He’d done the basic background on her when he first found the business, but Allie Landers kept her nose clean and, aside from the business’s financial records and her school history, he hadn’t dug deeper before.
He wished he hadn’t now, either.
Roman threw the papers back into the folder and tucked it into a drawer under the kitchen counter. There was no easy answer here. He’d promised that they would leave business in New York, but the only way he could figure out what was stopping her was to talk to her... Some fucking businessman he was. He’d painted himself into one hell of a corner with this.
Enjoying their time together was the only option. If he tried to push her, she’d call an end to the whole thing. Allie didn’t care about the pending deadline, since she had no interest in selling her business.
Which was a problem, because the whole damn ship was sinking. She’d be underwater inside of six months and then she’d lose everything. If she would just trust him, he could take care of everything. That was the problem, though. Roman knew he wanted what was best for the gym and Allie, but Allie didn’t know that. It didn’t matter how many different ways he tried to tell her, the truth was that he hadn’t done anything to earn her trust, and it was doubtful he’d manage that feat sometime in the next four days.
Roman sat there and contemplated it for nearly an hour, no closer to finding a solution by that point than he had been when he’d first started thinking about it.
What the fuck am I going to do?
* * *
Come to dinner with me. Dress to the nines.
Allie looked at the masculine scrawl on the note that had been delivered to their villa with the snack Becka had ordered. She felt a stupid grin pulling at the edges of her lips and tried to fight it. A single note from Roman shouldn’t be a highlight of her day—especially after the glory that was snorkeling off the coast of the island—but her heartbeat kicked up a notch knowing that he was thinking about her...and