Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“We were.” I lift my glass. “You’re going to regret giving me this.”
The waiter appears. “We have your table ready. I’ll bring your drinks after we get you settled.”
Ethan’s attention is warm. “Let’s go eat.”
I nod and wet my dry lips, pushing to my feet as the waiter pulls back my chair. Ethan is standing now, and when he steps beside the table, his presence, his height, and the way he turns to face me steals my breath. He’s intimidatingly and wonderfully male.
“This way,” the waiter instructs and starts walking.
I quickly follow, with Ethan right by my side. I’ve never, ever been as aware of a man who is not touching me as I am this one. We’re led to a private area that’s both enclosed and covered. It’s a mock hut, and when I step inside, candles flicker with orange flames on corner perches, casting shadows dancing their own version of the hula on the walls.
The table is long and lined with chairs, and Ethan motions to one side. “Let’s sit here.”
In other words, together, and as if driving home that point, his hand settles on my lower back, urging me in that direction, the touch spiraling heat that could easily out-flame those candles through every part of me.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks, and appetizers will arrive shortly,” the waiter announces.
And just that easily, we’re side by side, intimately close, and alone in a setting one could only call pure romance, or rather, seduction. Nothing about this night is romantic, I remind myself. It’s sexy. It’s enticing.
“Before you sit down,” Ethan says, and we angle to face each other, “promise me something.”
Now he’s making me nervous. “Promise you what?”
“Eat the food and feel no regrets. You’re in Hawaii.”
Tension uncurls in my belly and my lips curve. “Okay, I’m going to eat the food, but I’ll feel regret.”
“Why?” he challenges. “Why can’t this be the night of no regrets?”
Chapter Six
No regrets.
It’s what my mother used to say to me, it’s why I’m in Hawaii right now, chasing my dreams. It’s a way of life that I embrace where my career is concerned, but never, ever in my personal life. “What happens in Hawaii, stays in Hawaii,” I joke nervously, because do I dare think about where this night is leading me with Ethan Dalton?
“I’d say we can pick and choose what gets to stay and what gets to go.”
This is not the reply I expect. It, in fact, implies there might be a tomorrow for us when I doubt that very seriously. He pulls my chair out and offers me a seat. I’m happy to sit, to grab just a moment to calm my nervous energy and confusion over this man. He sits next to me, his obvious choice. He could have sat anywhere else, there are many seats open, but he’s right here, right next to me.
The waiter reappears and sets our glasses beside us, and the bottle in between our place settings. “The food should begin coming out in the next five minutes.” And then we’re alone.
“What have you done with your brand thus far?” Ethan asks, and when I shift to look at him, not only is he already angled toward me, I realize just how close we are—intimately, romantically close.
I wet my lips, and I’m aware of his gaze tracing my tongue, and Lord, help me. my nipples pucker against the thin material of my dress. Perhaps going braless was not a good idea, just as this secluded gathering with Ethan may not be either, but no regrets, right? I shove aside my reaction to this man and force my brain to refocus on the words he’s spoken, or rather the question he’s asked. What have I done with my brand thus far? “Nothing compared to what you’ve done with yours,” I reply. “But I’m working on changing that.”
“I inherited mine,” he counters. “You’re an entrepreneur working for what you desire.”
“According to your wiki page, you work pretty hard yourself. I’m sure running an empire is no small job, but one I hope to experience one day.”
“Then don’t sell to Moore’s.”
“Noted,” I say, “and though I’m a little discouraged by this suggestion, I can assure you it’s well received. On the other hand, any advice you have to offer would be welcomed.”
“Despite sitting on Moore’s board, that’s not my expertise, but I know people who can help. If you want to send me your designs, I’ll see what I can do.”
I’m blown away by such an offer. “Why would you be that generous?”
“One thing your wiki search doesn’t tell you is that I help people where I can.”
But he didn’t help my father. I’m very confused by this. Is it only women he helps? This is not an idea I enjoy much at all. “How do you choose who you help?”