Taken by Storm
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Cat Schield
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16,4K
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15
One
He’s Just Not That Into You.
The title of Isabel Withers’s favorite rom-com movie and, unfortunately, the theme of her love life. Or lack thereof. In fact, a better title might have been He Doesn’t Know You’re Alive.
The same couldn’t be said for Isabel. She was dreamily, frustratingly, sexually, heart-palpitatingly aware every time Shane Adams stepped into The Opulence, a five-star luxury getaway resort an hour east of Seattle. The president in charge of Richmond Hotel Group wasn’t just handsome, with his broad shoulders and piercing sable eyes. He wore aloofness like a magical cloak, enthralling Isabel at first sight.
Her movie title would go more like… He Knows You’re Alive, but Only as the Helpful Employee Who Drops Everything to Get Him What He Needs in the Hope That He’ll Notice the Woman beneath the Uniform.
“You just sighed.” This statement came from Isabel’s best friend, Aspen Wright.
Isabel shot her a look. “You’ve been sighing since Richmond announced it was hosting its fifth anniversary retreat here.”
With a sly smile that softened the lines of tension around her eyes and mouth, Aspen replied, “I sigh to relieve tension.” The creative genius behind the resort’s lavish events, Aspen was currently stressed to the nines after Matt Richmond hired A-lister event planner Teresa St. Claire to coordinate Richmond’s upcoming retreat. “You’re sighing because that chiseled hunk of you-can’t-touch-this just walked by.”
Aspen was right and Isabel wasted no breath arguing. “I can’t help it. He’s just so gorgeous.”
“That he is. And all business.”
Recognizing that Aspen was once again counseling her to give up her crush, Isabel responded with the same stubborn determination that marked her rise from someone who grew up wearing thrift-store clothes to The Opulence’s head concierge and self-appointed representative of all things romantic at the resort.
“And that’s exactly how I’m going to approach him this time.”
“Oh, honey—”
Isabel raised her hand like a determined traffic cop. “Don’t.” She’d heard Aspen’s lecture all too often and predicted what she was about to say. “I just know there’s something between us. It’s impossible for me to feel as strongly about him as I do and have it be only one-sided.”
“Says every stalker ever.”
“I’m not a stalker.”
“You find ways to run into the man at every turn.” Aspen ticked off each point on long, slender fingers. “You know his schedule better than he does. You make sure he has the best table whenever he dines at Overlook and that his room is stocked with all his favorites whenever he stays overnight.”
“That’s just part of the fine service we offer here at The Opulence,” she said, waving away her over-the-top service to their executive. “And why wouldn’t we want him to have the absolute best experience every time he comes here? It only improves his perception of the resort.”
Aspen shrugged. “Some days I’m not sure he notices any of the positive features we have to offer. He’s too busy trying to improve efficiency.”
Rigidly organized and driven to improve the resort’s already stellar efficiency, Shane was a formidable taskmaster and prone to terrifying the staff whenever he made an appearance. It wasn’t that he was harsh with any of his employees, but the man was so focused on business that he simply forgot to smile when things went well.
“He needs someone to soften his edges,” Isabel said. “Someone who can show him that the resort’s success isn’t just about providing consistent service, but that we pour our heart and soul into giving our customers a unique experience.”
“Someone like you?”
Hearing the teasing lilt in Aspen’s voice, Isabel released a wide grin. “Do you know of anyone better?”
“No,” Aspen conceded. “Just don’t be disappointed if you fail. I admire everything you’ve accomplished in the year since you arrived here, but that man’s cold heart may be frozen too solid for even your warm touch to heat.”
“I’m The Opulence’s romance concierge.” Isabel lifted her fist in a gesture of power and triumph. “I will not fail in my mission.”
A champion of true love, Isabel believed that everyone had the perfect someone out there. Even Aspen, although the older woman scoffed every time Isabel brought the subject up. As for herself, Isabel daydreamed about Shane Adams, even as she recognized that they were opposite in almost every way.
Aspen regarded her with solemn eyes. “Maybe I’ll stock up on ice cream and red wine just in case.”
Automatically brushing off Aspen’s cynicism, Isabel blew her friend a kiss and headed to the little office behind the front desk where she organized romantic events for the guests who came to The Opulence looking to celebrate or connect with their partner. Each experience was tailored to the couple’s particular needs and wants thanks to a questionnaire that Isabel had developed over the last few months.
Although she had a degree in hotel management, Isabel’s knack for customer service had evolved into a passion for delivering fantasy romance experiences after her first month at The Opulence when a dreamy weekend she’d planned had helped a long-married couple see that their marriage could be saved.
“Fighting for love one couple at a time,” Isabel muttered as she settled into her desk chair and pulled up the presentation she’d been working on to convince Shane that they should actively promote The Opulence as a romantic destination.
Satisfied that the pitch had the right balance of facts and fancy to convince Shane this was a solid marketing strategy, Isabel dialed Shane’s personal assistant. By the third ring, when Sheila picked up, Isabel’s heart was hammering so hard she could barely hear herself ask the question she’d been rehearsing.
“Hi, Sheila, it’s Isabel Withers from The Opulence.”
“Hello, Isabel.” Shane’s assistant had a warm, inviting manner so unlike her brisk, all-business boss. “What can I do for you today?”
“I was hoping I could get a meeting with Shane while he’s here. I have some ideas for the resort that I’d like to go over with him.”
If Sheila found it odd that Isabel would skip over the resort’s management and go straight to Shane, she gave no indication. In fact, Isabel had already mentioned her idea to Tom, but he hadn’t grasped the value in it. Going over his head was a risk, but if she could convince Shane, the gamble would pay off.
“With the upcoming Richmond event, Shane’s schedule is full,” Sheila said.
“If you could squeeze me in,” Isabel persisted, uncaring that she sounded desperate. “I’ll take fifteen minutes. Whatever he can spare.” Hell, she was so convinced her idea was a good one she was ready to chase him into an elevator and pitch him on the run.
“Well…” Sheila paused and Isabel could hear the keys clicking on her computer. “He’s free for dinner tonight at eight.”
Isabel didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take it.” Dinner with Shane? A dream come true. “I’ll get us a table at Overlook. Thanks, Sheila.”
“I’ve added you to his schedule. And you’re his last meeting of the day, so you won’t have to rush.”
Was it Isabel’s imagination or did Shane’s assistant sound as if she was smiling?
“Thanks for your help.”
Hanging up with Sheila, Isabel exited the tiny office and made her way back to the concierge desk. The carpet seemed suspended over hundreds of springs because Isabel noticed an extra bounce in her stride. She noted several guests responding to her wide grin with smiles of their own. This only added to Isabel’s bright mood.
The concierge currently assigned to the desk looked up from her computer as Isabel approached. “Shane Adams was looking for you a few minutes ago.”
Isabel’s nerves vibrated in a mixture of alarm and glee. “Did he say what about?”
“He wanted your report on the arrangements for extra activities during the Richmond retreat.”
She’d already shared the information with Teresa St. Claire as well as The Opulence management team, but wasn’t surprised that Shane Adams had requested the update, as well. He’d been quite hands-on these last few weeks leading up to corporate’s massive event. And with good reason. This was a major opportunity to show off the best of the hotel’s operation to A-listers and some of the wealthiest people in the country.
Although Isabel knew she could simply send Shane the report by email, she always grabbed any opportunity to speak to him in person. “Did he say where he’d be?”
“He’s over there.” Cindy pointed toward the front door, where Shane was currently deep in discussion with The Opulence’s executive manager, Tom Busch.
As if suddenly aware he was being discussed, Shane glanced toward the concierge desk, and his keen brown gaze struck Isabel, knocking the breath from her lungs. That the man could land such a blow to her senses from clear across a room should’ve put Isabel’s defenses on alert. Instead, she responded with a warm smile that hinted at the strength of her infatuation.
He blinked.
Isabel’s heart leaped as his eyes narrowed and he seemed to truly take her in for the first time in a year. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for. He would see her as a beautiful woman he desired and recognize that she was someone who strove to improve the hotel’s reputation every chance she got.
And then it was over. Shane turned his attention back to the executive manager, dismissing Isabel from his thoughts.
She sagged like a leaky balloon.
Moments later, he ended his conversation and she headed his way. Clutched to her chest was the ten-page document detailing every guest’s preferences, their requested spa services, rounds of golf, and the schedule of visits to area attractions including the local winery and those participating in unique interactive culinary experiences offered at Quintessential Chef.
“Here’s the report you wanted,” Isabel said, waiting in breathless silence for several heartbeats while Shane scanned the document.
With his attention focused elsewhere, she took several seconds to drink in the strong structure of his jaw and cheekbones. The ever-present dent between his eyebrows and surprisingly full, kissable lips. She shivered at the thought of how their softness would feel against her skin and wasn’t prepared when he lifted his gaze and caught her staring at him.
His eyes narrowed as he silently studied her. Isabel bit her lip to stop herself from babbling out an apology for the infatuation he must’ve seen written all over her face, but his phone buzzed, interrupting his focus.
“If you have any questions, we can go over them tonight,” Isabel said, rushing to make the offer before she lost his attention once more. “I’ve arranged for a table at Overlook at eight.” Isabel barely paused for breath. Shane hadn’t yet answered his phone—his gaze hadn’t even drifted toward the demanding thing—and she was going to capitalize on every millisecond of his notice. “I’m really looking forward to our dinner.”
Heart hammering with uncharacteristic vigor, Shane Adams regarded the plucky redhead standing before him while his phone’s insistent buzz barely registered. Striving for detachment and finding it beyond his grasp, he surveyed Isabel’s flawless pale skin, the thick dark lashes framing her lively hazel eyes, and her lush mouth painted a rosy pink while her words replayed in his head.
I’ve arranged a table at Overlook at eight.
I’m really looking forward to our dinner.
Had she just asked him out?
Since Isabel Withers had joined Richmond Hotel Group, he’d noticed a disturbing tendency to become distracted whenever he visited The Opulence. With her russet hair and lively personality a beacon for his attention, he’d pinpointed her as the source of his agitation. But it wasn’t until midway through his first quarterly tour, when he caught himself trying to identify what about her perfume had caused him to lean forward and suck in a lungful of the lushly aromatic, sweet scent, that he realized what a danger she was to his disciplined professionalism.
“Ah—” Damn the woman. Her invitation left him gaping at her like an idiot. “I’m not sure my schedule—”
“Oh, don’t worry. I already checked with Sheila. She said you were booked into meetings all day, but that you were free after eight. That’s why I arranged for a table at Overlook then.”
“You spoke to my assistant?”
Shane imagined the glee with which Sheila had fielded that particular phone call. She was constantly harping on him to take a little time out of his schedule to date. Although he never did anything to fix the situation, Shane recognized the need for balance in his life. Working eighty hours a week might not have been a problem for him, but he recognized his staff didn’t have his endurance.
“Of course.” Isabel’s lips parted in a dazzling smile that made Shane’s head spin. “I check with her every time you visit so I can make sure all your needs are met.”
His needs?
Those two words sent sexual awareness rushing through him. He barely won the battle to keep his gaze from roaming down her slender frame, but that didn’t stop him from speculating about the sort of curves hidden beneath the hotel’s blue-and-gold uniform. Shane yanked his thoughts back under control. She was one of his employees. He couldn’t go there. Ever.
Shane made a mental note to set up a date in the near future with one of the women he saw from time to time. He’d obviously neglected his needs as the Richmond retreat drew near.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I do need to eat,” And it was a business dinner. Despite that momentary slip-up, he shouldn’t have trouble keeping things strictly professional. “We should discuss the specific arrangements for each of the VIPs arriving next week.”
Isabel nodded. “Actually, we have a meeting scheduled with Teresa tomorrow to go over those details. I have something else I’d like to discuss with you.”
Something of a business nature? Her expression gave him no clue, but nothing in the last year indicated she was anything other than a professional. With a sinking feeling, he realized his earlier flare of personal interest was leading him to question her motives.
“Can you give me a hint what that might be?”
“I’d rather surprise you.” She hit him with another bright smile, this time flavoring it with a dash of sly teasing. “I’d really appreciate if you’d come to dinner with an open mind.”
Against his better judgment, Shane found himself utterly intrigued. “Why would you think I’d do otherwise?”
Her eyebrows rose at his question. “You have very strong opinions about everything done at the resort.”
Although her measured tone and demeanor remained neutral, Shane recognized the point she was trying to make. He’d shown a heavy hand at The Opulence in the three years following Richmond Hotel Group’s management of the resort. The place had been a chaotic mess when they’d won the contract. By instituting strict rules for how everything was done, from folding towels to welcoming the guests, he’d whipped the operations into shape in record time.
The turnaround had been instrumental in boosting him into the presidency of the Richmond Hotel Group division of Richmond Enterprises. He was proud of how the division had flourished with him at the helm. Of course, as more properties had been added to their management portfolio, he’d focused his attention on getting the newer ones up to RHG standards, leaving the earliest properties to function without as much oversight. For most this had worked out well.
Normally Shane didn’t weigh in on staffing decisions at the hotel level, but he hadn’t liked some of the reports that had been coming out of The Opulence. Tom Busch had been hired by the area manager ten months earlier to act as the hotel’s executive manager, and the level of customer service had begun to drop.
The timing of this was not good with the fifth anniversary retreat for Richmond Enterprises taking place in less than two weeks. Everything needed to be running as smooth as glass. The smallest bump could have a catastrophic ripple effect.
“So, we’re having dinner to talk about the resort?” he asked.
The shock on her face, quickly masked, sent a flurry of curses winging through his mind. Had he really just admitted to her that he’d assumed her invitation had been personal rather than business?
She gnawed on her lower lip and avoided his gaze. A betraying flush raced up her throat and turned her cheeks bright pink. Shane noticed his own skin becoming hotter with each breath. What was it about Isabel that consistently threw him off balance?
An awkward, breathy laugh escaped her. “Of course. You didn’t think I was hitting on you, did you?”
“Well…no,” Shane replied, but his response lacked conviction. He cleared his throat, discomfort rendering him less judicious than usual.
“And if I was?” The smile she threw at him had cheeky undertones.
Attraction flared anew, tightening his gut. The unwelcome sensation continued to disturb him. “I always keep my business relationships strictly professional.”
“Of course,” she repeated, nodding vigorously. “And it isn’t as if I thought…” Hot color flushed her cheeks as she trailed off.
It occurred to Shane that this was the longest conversation he’d ever had with Isabel. He was starting to understand why all the management staff remarked on her winning personality as often as they praised her high level of customer service. She had a knack for drawing people in and making them like her.
“I imagine you have a lot of women hitting on you,” she prompted when he declined to venture into the silence building between them. “After all, you’re handsome, intelligent and successful.”
“Not as many women as you think,” he lied, easing her tension with a dry smile. “I work too much and play too little. Friends assure me I will end up a crusty old bachelor if I keep going like this.”
Why was he discussing his personal life with a member of his staff? Because this slender redhead roused all sorts of unprofessional impulses.
“All it will take is the right woman.”
He doubted that was true. “Spoken like a true romantic.”
“You say ‘romantic’ like it’s a dirty word.”
He used his thumb to gesture at his chest. “Crusty old bachelor.”
“You don’t believe in romance?”
He was an emotionally shuttered workaholic. “Let’s just say I don’t have time for it.”
“But do you believe in it?” she persisted, mesmerizing him with the specks of green shimmering in her hazel eyes.
“No.”
The single, blunt syllable was meant to shut down the conversation. To his dismay, he underestimated the petite idealist. She grinned at him, her challenging smirk a too-late warning that he’d blundered into quicksand.
Before he could elaborate or explain, her smartphone buzzed. She shifted her attention to the screen and sighed.
“The Jamisons’ wedding party has started to arrive early and we’re not quite ready for them. I have to go. See you at eight.” And then she was speeding off, her long strides taking her arresting presence beyond his reach.
In the back of his mind, a voice reminded Shane why he avoided engaging with this woman. All the information he gleaned about her from his management staff said she excelled at her job because she had a knack for reading people and providing them an experience they didn’t even realize they wanted. Returning guests flocked to her concierge desk, knowing anything Isabel planned for them would be the perfect experience.
Alone with his thoughts, Shane found himself needing a bracing hit of brisk mountain air. He turned in the opposite direction and headed for a side door that led to the lower terrace. That the encounter had not gone his way didn’t surprise Shane. Isabel’s quick mind, passionate nature and eloquence were more than a match for his dogged determination and disciplined pragmatism.
He glanced at his watch as a cool fall breeze smacked his overheated face. He had four hours until their next meeting. Barely enough time for him to shore up his defenses. One thing was for certain, he needed his wits about him when dealing with Isabel Withers.
