Page 64 of The Best Wrong Move

“I wouldn’t be here tonight sitting across from you if I didn’t agree with that.” The way his eyes are suddenly burning into mine sends a tingly shiver down my spine. Then he breaks into a boyish grin and squeezes my knee. “But I’m still going to introduce you to Quinton. And I’d really like for you to have the opportunity to pitch him.”

I start to protest, but he puts a finger over my lips. I pretend to bite it, before breaking into a smile, touched by his persistence, and the trust he has in me.

“Just think about it.” He’s studying my eyes. “You don’t have to say yes right now. He won’t be here for a few more weeks.”

“Deal.” I kiss him back. “So, even with all that Hollywood blood rolling through your veins, you never got into directing or acting? Not even when you were little?”

“No.” He sits back against his chair again. “I tagged along plenty of times, but I was more into the set building and staging I saw in the production houses. Those set builders could create anything you could imagine. Make a whole house full of rooms out of thin air in just a few days. As a kid, it was as good as magic — seeing what they could do with a few sketches and a team of skilled tradesmen. This was before CGI was a thing, when pretend worlds had to be built with their bare hands.”

“Is that how you got into the vacation rental industry then? You like the idea of making little homes? Building or fixing them up?”

He chuckles a little, then takes a deep breath, like he’s about to let me in on something else I should know. “I own a property development company. Among other ventures. While Dad gave Quinton a shot at directing, he gave me the gift of investing in my first company when I was sixteen.”

“Yourfirstcompany at sixteen?” I feel like I’m unwrapping all of Dom’s hidden layers tonight, but as carefully and slowly as possible. “How many do you own now?”

“I’m not sure.” I study him for any signs of fibbing, but he looks like he’s telling the truth.

How many companies would you have to own to lose track?

“Just like you weren’t sure how many rentals you have on Airbnb when I first called.”

I’m trying not to stare at Dom too intently. What he does for a living — or the fact that he’s related to Hollywood legends — would have been boasted about on a first date back in New York. But Dom has been so quiet about all of it. I understand why, but it’s like I’m seeing the full picture of his life now, and it’s a lot to digest.

“You’re a man of many hidden talents,” I say, watching him carefully. He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me deeply, until my head feels like it’s swimming in a sea of stars.

“There’s a few more hidden talents I plan to show you.” He pulls back, a suggestive edge deepening his voice. “If you’ll let me.”

“Yes, please.” I bite my lip, hard, keeping myself from mounting him again right here on the table.The air between us feels like it’s practically erupting with steam. I’m already panting for another round, and we’ve barely just finished the last.

His eyes travel down the kaftan, then spring back up to my lips, watching me smile. “You look beautiful tonight. In case I haven’t told you enough times.”

I smile. “You have. But I don’t mind.”

“Well, it feels like a sin not to say it enough.” He glances at my lips again.

Between the ocean waves, a slight breeze rustling the garden around us, and sweet compliments like that rolling off Dom’s tongue, the soundtrack of my life right now sounds like a new song I never want to end.

“Care for a swim?” He stands up suddenly.

The meandering soundtrack in my head screeches to a halt.

“A swim?” I sit up and look around. “Did I miss the part of the garden with a pool?”

“The pool is down the path on the other side of that rock wall.” He points past the stone table where I sat working earlier today. “But I prefer the sea.”

Chapter 40

My eyes dart out to the vast expanse of water. I can hear the waves rolling onto the shore slowly, almost like the ocean is getting sleepy, but it looks nearly black against the sky. Majestic and menacing at the same time.

“That? At night? You’re not serious.” I grab what’s left of the wine bottle and pour it into my glass. I take a sip, narrowing my eyes at him. However, the look on his face appears to be dead serious.

“If you haven’t gone night swimming while you’re here yet, we need to cross it off your bucket list. Tonight.”

He can’t actually expect me to get in that. Not with all the creepy night creatures I was just thinking of moments ago.

“I distinctly recall a very wise man telling me that sharks feed at night. And besides, I don’t have my swimsuit.” I smile, knowing full well my lack of swimsuit will only encourage him even more.

“Who said anything about swimsuits?” Dom grins back at me. A rush of new adrenaline runs through me when I realize what he’s suggesting. Then he stands up. His ab muscles practically dance in the firelight, daring me to take the bait.

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