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  He nodded, understanding how she felt. Still, he could offer her so much more. But maybe this time, it wasn't going to be about what he wanted. Even though he'd never once lost out on a deal, maybe this was one he should walk away from.

  Even if it wasn't in Greta's best interests.

  He sipped his beer and pondered his options.

  "Mitch."

  He looked over at Don. "Yeah?"

  "I know you want the property and the land. And you and I go way back. But don't hurt my sister. She's been through enough."

  "Yeah, she has."

  "Look, man, I love you like a brother, you know that. But I love her more. And if it comes down to choosing between the two of you, I think you know where I'll stand."

  Mitch nodded, glad that Greta had a man like Don backing her up. "I would never hurt her, Don." In fact, he was going to do whatever it took to help her. Even if that meant losing what he wanted.

  Chapter Nine

  Somehow, it worked out that Greta's children had both been asked to spend the night at their friend's houses, and Mitch had invited Greta out to dinner again. This time, he said there was a Christmas party at the mayor's house.

  The mayor's house! She'd never been there, even though she was a member of the Chamber of Commerce. But sure, let a millionaire swoop into town for the holidays, and he garners an instant invitation to the mayor's annual Christmas party.

  She'd had time to run to the mall and buy a nice black dress, refusing to let Mitch outfit her for this soiree. The dress was expensive and not at all in her budget, but as soon as she'd tried it on she knew she had to have it. Sleek and silky, it fit her perfectly. It had cap sleeves and a silver band embedded across the empire waist. The dress flowed out right at the knee in kicky little waves. She loved it and had to admit it looked gorgeous. Besides, a black dress was something she could wear again and again. Just in case the mayor took a liking to her and decided to invite her to the party next year.

  She laughed at that, hung crystal drop earrings on her ears, and slipped on the shoes Mitch had given her which went great with the dress--no sense in buying new shoes when these were so versatile.

  Mitch arrived on time wearing a dark suit with a red tie and looking devastatingly handsome as usual. Whether in surf shorts or tux or anything in between, the man took her breath away. He cupped her chin, giving her a soft kiss. She melted.

  "You look beautiful," he said. "That dress is stunning."

  Her face warmed. She wasn't used to compliments, or attention of any kind. She'd lived wrapped up in a cocoon of work and her kids for years, and felt like a butterfly spreading its wings in the few days she'd been around Mitch. "You're good for my ego," she said. "And you look incredible."

  He grinned. "Thanks. Ready to go?"

  She was shocked to see a white stretch limousine with blacked out windows parked in front of the motel. Her gaze snapped to Mitch. He grinned.

  "Thought you'd want to arrive at the mayor's house in style."

  She laughed, climbed in, and marveled that the inside of the limo was big enough to live in. Television, long bench seats, full bar, it was luxurious and utterly decadent.

  The mayor lived at the top of the hill in town, in an old white mansion that had been redecorated by one of the top interior designers in the country. Greta had seen pictures of it in the state magazine, but she'd always wanted to get a glimpse of it in person, so she was excited that she was actually going to be able to do so tonight.

  It didn't disappoint. Parquet flooring in geometric patterns greeted them in the entry. As they moved inside, Greta stared slack jawed at marble statues, granite countertops in the kitchens and state of the art appliances, objects d'art spread throughout the pristine marble floors of the dining hall, thick white columns and plush carpeting you could sleep on. She continued to gape as Mayor Thomas Jefferson Patterson gave them a tour of his marvelous home. She hoped she wasn't drooling.

  "Of course, I know your hotels are five star all the way," Mayor Patterson said to Mitch as they walked out to the gardens. "So I hope you can appreciate the work we put into the mansion."

  "You've done an amazing job," Mitch said, keeping his hand tightly held to Greta's.

  "It's lovely, Mayor Patterson."

  He smiled at Greta. "Thank you, Mrs. Mason. And how is your little motel on the beach doing?"

  Little motel on the beach. How...patronizing. "It's doing just fine, thank you. We'll be nearly full by Christmas."

  "Lovely. Word around town is that there was a recent offer to build a resort on your land, and that you refused to sell."

  Uh-oh. Her gaze shot to Mitch, and he shook his head. She didn't think the information had come from him. He might want her hotel, but he wouldn't exactly send out a press release about it.

  "I'm happy with the motel the way it is, Mayor."

  Mayor Patterson turned to her and sniffed. He might be influential and popular, but he was also a pompous ass. "Mrs. Mason, do you have any idea what a resort of that caliber could do for the residents of Ft. Lincoln Beach? The other business owners in this town? The revenue, the tax dollars? The improvements we could make in our city would be beyond belief. You're holding back progress, my dear, and I don't understand why."

  "But it's my choice to make, and it's my property, Mayor." She smiled tightly and Mitch squeezed her hand.

  "Your motel is ancient. It needs work. You're never at full capacity and barely meet code."

  She inhaled, knowing she'd never be able to explain to him that she loved the Crystal Sands just the way it was, the way her father had left it to her. "I'm not interested in having my motel demolished, Mayor. Perhaps whoever is interested in buying up ocean front property can look elsewhere."

  The mayor narrowed his gaze and lowered his voice. "You know very well that's a prime location. You're simply being stubborn for no reason."

  "I think Greta is perfectly able to make her own decision about her future and that of her business, Mayor," Mitch said, the clipped tone of his voice indicating that the mayor had stepped out of line.

  Mayor Patterson took a quick step back and plastered a smile back on his face.

  "Of course, of course. And it's Christmas, so we won't discuss business tonight. Come, let's have some punch."

  Asshole. He'd already discussed business and made his opinion clear. He thought she was getting in the way of town progress. Great. Just what she needed--more guilt.

  "Ignore him," Mitch said as the mayor went off to greet more guests. "We're just here for free food and drinks."

  She laughed. "He's been ignoring me for years. I guess I can try to return the favor."

  Mitch slid her hand in the crook of his arm and led her into the house. "That's my girl."

  Some of her excitement over being at the mayor's house diminished after talking to him, but she refused to let him completely dampen her enthusiasm. After all, she rarely got a night out, and never dressed up like this. Since Mitch had arrived in Ft. Lincoln Beach, she'd done so twice in one week. She intended to enjoy every minute of it. This was her chance to mix and mingle with other business owners in town, the opportunity to trade ideas about growing their respective businesses--especially her own. She wanted more people to stay at her motel, and if she could get some of the other businesses in town to send people her way, to carry her advertising, then it would be worth having to listen to the snooty mayor look down his nose at her and criticize the decisions she made.

  Unfortunately, as she attempted to mingle with the other guests over drinks and dinner, she ran into the same unwelcome topic.

  "You won't sell the motel, Greta? Why not? It's old, run down, needs major refurbishing."

  "No amount of paint and rehab will help the old Crystal Sands, Greta. You need to sell and sell now. You must have been offered a fortune for that old place. Are you insane for turning down that kind of money?"

  "Greta. Sell. What are you thinking? You're holding us all back."

  Every
one knew about the offer to buy the motel, and everyone was stunned she had turned it down. They all saw it as a prime growth opportunity for the town, and saw Greta as the evil monster who was holding back progress--and revenue--for everyone.

  Shit.

  None of them understood why, and she wasn't about to try and explain it to them. They wouldn't care. The few friends she'd made in the business community were now turning their backs on her. Money was more powerful than friendship, apparently. And she was taking revenue out of their pockets by refusing growth.

  Her evening sailed south in a hurry, though she tried to put on a brave front for Mitch. He had just been doing what he did best--buy up non-revenue producing properties to build his gorgeous resorts. He brought thriving commerce into communities. That was his business.

  He was a savior. Everyone loved him.

  Conversely, everyone hated her, especially here at the mayor's mansion tonight.

  "Can we go?" she finally asked after dinner when she couldn't tolerate the silent, devil-eyed glares of her peers any longer. "I have a terrible headache."

  Mitch frowned in concern and smoothed his hand down her back. "Of course. I'll go get your coat."

  She shrank against the front door, trying to look invisible while Mitch stopped to talk to the mayor and a couple others who whispered in his ear, shooting pointed looks in her direction the entire time. By the time he returned with her jacket, his expression was grim. He helped her with her coat, left his hand pressed to the small of her back, and escorted her out the door to the waiting limo.

  The ride was silent, Greta lost in her thoughts.

  She was making the right decision in sticking to her guns. She knew she was. Dad would never want the Crystal Sands to be anything more than what it had always been. A nice family-run place. Small, comfortable, not a resort monster like the kind of places Mitch built.

  "You don't owe them any explanation, Greta," Mitch said after they'd left. "Nor an apology for the decisions you make."

  She stared down at her lap. "They hate me."

  He laughed, and she whipped her head up to look at him.

  "Honey, there isn't a day goes by that a decision I make doesn't make someone wish for my immediate demise. In business, sometimes you make unpopular decisions."

  "But you don't make the kinds of choices that have everyone in your town despise you."

  "They'll get over it."

  "I doubt it. I probably won't be welcome at the grocery store or local mall anymore."

  "I think you're overexaggerating."

  "This is a small town, Mitch. Everyone knows everyone else. Word will get out that I single handedly halted major progress."

  "One hotel would not be responsible for a growth explosion in Ft. Lincoln Beach. Every retailer in town would have to pony up improvements and expansions to their own facilities."

  "They don't see it that way. Steps two and three can't happen without step one, and that's where I squashed the entire thing." Guilt stomped around in her stomach, mashing the delicious lobster she'd had for dinner.

  "You have to stop carrying the world on your shoulders. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

  She frowned. "Yours? Why?"

  "I should have been more low key, should have approached you directly. I'd forgotten about small-town gossip."

  She waved her hand. "That's not for you to worry about. I can handle it."

  "You handle everything by yourself, don't you?"

  He'd said it like an accusation, though his voice was soft.

  "I have to, Mitch. I'm responsible for my children."

  "You're a remarkable woman, Greta. You have more strength than you give yourself credit for. I admire you."

  She snorted. "Yeah, I'm just superwoman, aren't I?"

  "In many ways, you're one of the strongest women I've ever met."

  She didn't know what to say in answer to that, just stared into his cool blue eyes and got lost in the warmth of his smile. She snuggled against him and decided to enjoy the end of the night with Mitch, since the beginning and middle had been utterly forgettable.

  It took her awhile to realize Mitch wasn't taking her back to her motel. They were coasting up the highway next to the beach.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "Nowhere." He reached into the bar to pull out a bottle of champagne. He uncorked it and popped it open, then filled two glasses with the bubbling liquid and handed one to her. "I thought we'd take a ride."

  She watched the white surf go by as they rode leisurely from town to town and sipped champagne, feeling decadent and so like a fish out of water. Did he have any idea how out of her element this all was? "This is not my lifestyle, Mitch."

  He took a long swallow, emptied the glass and set it down, then turned to her. "It could be."

  Her smile died as frustration filled her. She thought they'd never have to have this conversation again. "I'm not selling."

  He took the glass away from her. "That's not at all what I'm talking about."

  She frowned. "I don't understand."

  "Don't you?" He swept his knuckles against her cheek, then slid his arm around her waist to draw her closer, bringing his head down to hers. He brushed her lips with a faint kiss, and she tasted tart champagne, smelled his crisp, clean soap, inhaled the fragrance of the man she'd grown all too close to way too fast. In seconds, the disastrous night melted away, replaced instead by a rush of need for this man, this moment.

  He could make her forget, but more importantly, she simply loved being held and touched by him. There was only one problem.

  "Mitch."

  He leaned in, nuzzled her neck, causing pinpricks of delicious sensation to pop out over her skin. "Yeah."

  She reached out to grab his shoulders, conscious of the driver up front. "We're not alone."

  Without pulling away from her neck, he reached behind her and pressed a button. A black screen coasted slowly upward, cutting them off from the driver. "Now we are. He can't see or hear us, and he's been ordered to drive until I tell him to take us back."

  She shuddered when his lips found hers again, leaned back in the roomy seat. Mitch followed, his body covering hers. He lifted his head. "Is this too confining for you?"

  She hadn't even thought about it. With Mitch, she never felt restrained--in any way. "No. I need to feel you pressed against me."

  He slid one hand underneath to cup her bottom, raising it up, aligning her sex against his cock and making her ache even more. He drove against her, making her feel like a teenager in the throes of first passion.

  Maybe she was, because she didn't remember ever being fired up like this, ever becoming so aroused so quickly. He rained kisses over her face, down her neck, sucking gently against her throat until her skin was covered in goose bumps. She reached for his shoulder, but contact with his clothes wasn't what she wanted under her hands. She whimpered in frustration and Mitch lifted, hauling her to a sitting position.

  "Ever been naked in a limo, Greta?"

  His wicked smile and the devilish twinkle in his eyes emboldened her. She pulled off her shoes and dropped to her knees on the carpeted floor, then spread his legs to climb between them. "I haven't been in a limo before."

  He shrugged off his jacket.

  "Are you going to get naked in here?" she asked, reaching up to take off his tie and toss it on the long bench to her side, then rested her hands on his thighs.

  "Would you like me to?"

  "Yes."

  He unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled it off. When he started on his pants, she brushed his hands aside. "Let me."

  His gaze swept to hers, then he leaned back in the seat and she undid his belt, the button, and went for his zipper. His cock was hard, straining against her fingers as she drew the zipper down. She was conscious of Mitch watching her every move, but she was concentrating on drawing his pants apart, pulling them over his hips and down his legs, baring his body to her view, her touch, her mouth.

  She
'd been dreaming about having access to him. He'd done some amazing things to her body. Now it was her turn to explore, though she wondered about doing this now. Maybe it wasn't the right time.

  She gazed over her shoulder, but Mitch leaned forward and turned her chin to face him. "We have all the time in the world. It's just you and me."

  He resumed his position, leaning back against the buttery soft leather and opening his body to her.

  "Take your dress off," he said, the command spoken in a darkly soft voice that thrilled her, so unlike when Cody used to order her around. Probably because she knew she could tell Mitch no and there would be no repercussions. He would never hurt her, never berate her or smack her around just because she had a mind and opinion of her own. And in his command was a request, a need--his need. She lifted the clingy dress over her head and tossed it to the side, leaving her in the plunging satin and lace bra and matching panties.

  Mitch's eyes went smoky. "Nice." He palmed his cock and began to stroke it, an act so incredibly erotic all she could do was watch. "Now take off your bra."

  He made her want to strip for him, a bold act utterly new to her. She stretched up and reached behind her, making sure to take her time releasing the hooks, then pulling the straps down. She held the cups against her breasts, watching Mitch's jaw clench, the way he gripped his cock at the base of the shaft and held his fingers there as she pulled the bra away from her breasts. Just as he touched himself, she did the same, cupping her breasts, using her thumbs and fingers to swirl over her nipples. Touching herself had never been as exciting as it was this night. She'd never done it in front of a man before, but doing it for Mitch aroused her, because she could see it turned him on.

  "I like that."

  She smiled, pushed back and sat on the edge of the long bench across from him, spreading her legs slightly apart. With one hand still on her breast, she slid the other hand down the front of her panties. She heard his indrawn breath as she cupped her sex, using her fingers to slide over her clit, surprising even herself with the heat and pleasure that swelled there. Her lips parted and she whimpered a breathy moan.

  Mitch resumed stroking his cock while Greta half reclined on her seat, her hand buried in her panties. She slid two fingers inside her pussy, using the heel of her hand to grind against her clit. With every movement she became further entrenched in the fantasy, in her aroused state, her body in tune with what she was doing, her mind awash in the awareness of Mitch's actions.