She gave him a glacial smile. “What can I help you with, Mr. York?”

“It’s Blake.”

“My apologies. What can I help you with?” she asked, leaving his name off altogether.

“Why the frosty reception this morning?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“I didn’t realize that I was required to be sunny and warm around you,” she snapped, and he was taken aback. His Ella never spoke like that. Ever.

“Civility isn’t a hardship, Ella.”

She looked down her nose at him. “I have to get back to work, sir.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said and she flushed, giving him a glimpse of the real Ella.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said politely.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I only wanted you to know you have nothing to fear from me,” he pointed out.

“Thank you, sir, for setting my mind at ease about workplace violence.”

He made a face of disgust. To equate him with an abuser... it was the worst insult she could ever give him. “Why are you twisting my words?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” A blank look covered her face. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“No,” he said tightly.

She walked away from him, her shoulders rigid and her back straight. He willed her to look back, to reconsider this new attitude, and become his friend once more.

But she didn’t.

And now he knew that he’d lost her forever.

So much for being her rescuer.

Chapter Two

Three Years Later

Ella Simpson was in love with a married man, and not just any married man, but her boss. Not that she had ever let him know, even before he’d recently married his childhood sweetheart.

But she had come close to doing it when she’d first found out about his hasty marriage. She’d almost blurted out everything she was feeling and thinking.

How could you do this to me?

Don’t you know I love you?

Why do I always fall for the ones who are unattainable?

She hadn’t though. Instead, she had left Andrew Montgomery’s office in tears. It was just her luck that his business partner and the one man she couldn’t stand, Blake York, had intercepted her on her way to the ladies’ room.

“Did Montgomery make you cry?” Blake demanded in a voice she’d never heard before. Harsh. Unforgiving. If she didn’t know for a fact that the two of them were friends, she would have thought Blake wanted to hurt Andrew.

She shook her head, drawing herself up and straightening her shoulders. “No one made me cry.”

“Then why are there tears on your cheeks, love?”

Ella hated it when he called her love. It made her feel special, which was stupid because he called every woman at Montgomery Industry love. “Allergies.”

“You don’t have allergies,” he insisted. “If he made you cry, I’ll talk to him, yes?”

Ugh. Why hadn’t she gone with ‘the sight of you makes me cry’? Or ‘that tie clashes with your face’? She didn’t want his concern, and she sure as heck didn’t want his pity. She’d had enough of that when he’d discovered her one-sided emails.

“Whatever you think is best.” She brushed past him. “I have work to do, Mr. York.”

Ella took another sip of her strawberry daiquiri and stared out at the crystal-blue sea, feeling more and more like a lovesick fool with each passing minute.

Only a lovesick fool would agree to be a bridesmaid, in a “proper wedding” as York kept calling it, when she was in love with the groom.

Only a lovesick fool would fly to a destination resort two days ahead of time to fully enjoy the amenities.

Except... Andrew counted on her to keep his life running, and she couldn’t let him down. She hadn’t in five years... And his wife, Ella grudgingly admitted, seemed very nice. Her boss could have done a lot worse, like marry Alexis George instead.

She shuddered at that horrifying thought.

“Is this seat taken?”

Ella looked up, eyes narrowing as Blake’s smiling face. Of course he would come to the resort early as well. “Yes.”

He sat down. “Brilliant.”

“I said it was taken.”

“Of course you did.” He held up his glass. “Care to make a toast?”

“Will it make you leave if I do?”

“Most definitely,” he murmured, sending her heartbeat skittering out of control.

She hated how he could do that to her. Blake shouldn’t be able to do that to her at all. “Great. Here’s to you leaving.” She threw back her drink.

“Cheeky.” He didn’t look the least bit put off by her impromptu toast, and he didn’t look ready to leave either. “My turn. Here’s to a mutually satisfying week.”

“The only way I’d be satisfied would be if you left early. Like now. But since you won’t, I’ll be on my way.”

Blake stopped her with one touch. Tingles shot up her arm. Her eyes rounded.

“Don’t be in such a hurry, Ms. Simpson. We have so much to discuss.”

“We have nothing to discuss,” she said primly.

“Dear Andrew, I can’t stop thinking about—”

“How dare you!” Cold fury and embarrassment invaded her body, replacing every bit of desire that had dared to cloud her mind. Would she ever be able to live down those private emails?

“Now that I have your attention, may I make my intentions known?” he asked smoothly, crossing his long legs at the ankle.

“And what would those be?” She glared down at him, at his smirking mouth and wicked blue eyes. Such a shame that the devil looked like a handsome prince.

“You in my bed.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Give me one date.”

She laughed. “You think you could change my mind with only one date?”

“Fine. Two dates.”

“Ten,” she snapped.

“Five,” he countered.

“Eight.”

“Done.” A satisfied smile covered his gorgeous face.

Sweet Lord. What had she agreed to? Holding up her hands, she began to shake her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I got caught up with arguing and—and—”

He jumped to his feet, like a graceful cat. “Oh, but you did.” Leaning down, he lightly kissed her cheek. Her pulse raced. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for breakfast.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t want a nightcap,” she grumbled.

“That’s date three.” He winked, and then sauntered away, like a man who’d just... well, had gotten one over on her.

She had the childish urge to stomp her feet and throw something at him. “Ooooh. There is no way I’m going on one date with that man, much less eight,” she said as she began to make her way back to her hotel room.

Chapter Three

Blake’s first thought upon waking was his conversation with Ella.

It wasn’t well done of him, but he didn’t bloody well care. He was determined to get her to see him in a new light, even if she thought he only wanted her in his bed.

Of course, he wanted her in his bed, but he wanted more than that. He wanted her smiles, her laughter... he wanted the woman he’d met three years ago.

He shoved the covers back and walked to the bathroom, cutting on the shower. While the water steamed up the room, he shaved and brushed his teeth before quickly washing up. He had to catch her at breakfast, only he wasn’t sure if she would be seated on the pavilion or stay in her room.

Taking a chance, he pulled on a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt before heading to the pavilion. Luckily, the place wasn’t packed.

Eyes roaming the room, he found the woman of his dreams seated near the pool. She looked enchanting in her sundress and a wide, floppy hat that kept her pale skin from burning.

Keeping one eye on her, he ran the breakfast gauntlet and filled up a plate. She still hadn’t seen him because if she had, Ella would have left already.