Page 37 of Maneater (The Mavens #1)

TWENTY-FIVE

ROWAN

After I tell Josie I won’t kiss her until she tells me what she’s doing here, I make a vow to stay away from her to avoid her further messing with my head.

I didn’t go to the beach cabanas when I saw her and her friend there yesterday, after I found her in that hallway, and I didn’t interrupt when I saw her flirting with a guest at lunch today.

I didn’t find an excuse to bump into her when she was wearing yet another tiny dress to an early dinner at one of the more formal restaurants, nor when she stopped for a drink on her way back to her room.

I’ve been able to sate my need for her through the resort’s CCTV footage.

For better or worse, watching her has become a habit of mine.

Some might call it a sickness. It’s been almost three full days since I felt Josie’s whimpers while she tried to ride my leg, and I have to say, it may have been hotter than hearing her moan my name in Dante’s office as she came.

It’s been a day and a half since she begged me to kiss her in the hall, and I turned her down.

I thought it was a testament to my restraint and a turning point in my obsession and distraction, but now, as I flick through the live cameras to see if she ventured back out this evening, I realize I’ve just funneled it into a different format.

At least this one doesn’t reveal to her how deeply I’m entangled in her web.

That justification itself is just another example of just how fucked I am. But until I can figure out what’s happening in this resort, I can’t allow myself to give in to the distraction she poses.

I’m on a call now, listening to someone blather on about numbers and margins and reservations, shit that normally I would already have memorized, but I can’t find it in me to care.

No, instead, I’m flicking through feeds to try and find where she might be.

“And in Q4 we anticipate?—”

That’s when I see it: Josie at the employee party.

Josie’s hand on the arm of one of the guys who manages the landscaping, her head tipped back, and, despite the feed being silent, I can hear her laugh.

He says something else, and she takes a step closer, flirting in that way she does.

A part of me recognizes the sexy look on her face is different from the one she uses when she’s talking to me, but I still can’t focus enough to seem to care.

I wish I could say the fury running through me is because there is a guest at an employee get-together, but I can’t. Not in the least.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Can you just send me an email with the notes and let me know if there’s anything you need from me?

” I say, interrupting his spiel. I know all eyes in the meeting are on me and are confused since this is so out of character, but I just don’t care.

My eyes are on the feed where Josie’s body is swaying to music I can’t hear, and I know every man in that room is watching her.

“Yeah, of course. I?—”

But I can’t hear the rest, because I’m closing my computer and standing, making my way out of my room and down the hall to the elevator, where I know the employee party is being held tonight. We try to do these once every month or so to encourage employee morale.

When I step into the room, it’s loud and chaotic, laughter and chatter filling the room, music playing loudly, and no one notices me enter quietly.

No one except for Josie. It’s as if she’s pulled toward me subconsciously, like she feels the same unexplainable magnetism I feel toward her, like I could find her in any room, any time.

Her ass is tipped into someone from the kitchen staff’s crotch as she grinds, his hands hovering over her hips but not touching, thank fuck.

I feel my jaw get tight as I note the tiny tank top she’s wearing, clearly without a bra.

That’s when she smiles at me. She smiles like she gets some kind of satisfaction at knowing I’m here, watching her, exuding jealousy. I wonder if she somehow knows how hard I fought finding her.

The song ends, and she stands up, turning to her dance partner and thanking him before walking off the makeshift dance floor, a pep in her step as she approaches me.

“My, my, didn’t expect to see you here, Rowan.”

“What are you doing here, Josie?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is a staff party. You’re not staff.”

She shrugs as if that doesn’t matter at all. “I was invited.”

“So what you’re saying is you flirted your way into an invite?”

She smiles sweetly. “What does it matter to you?”

I tighten my jaw because it shouldn’t matter to me. Not at all, but every fucking time I even think about her moving her attentions to some other man, I feel absolutely violent. It’s been like that for years, but now that she’s at my resort and I have no way of ignoring it, it’s only gotten worse.

“You know, you keep getting all flustered and jealous when you see me getting any sort of attention. Seems like fan behavior,” she says before I can answer, her eyelashes fluttering as she takes a step closer to me.

It wouldn’t take much to close the gap between us, to press her body against mine, to press my lips to hers, to tell everyone in this fucking room that she’s mine.

But there’s something about this game we’re playing that I like too much to end now. The flirting, the teasing, the tempting and taunting, the push and pull. I like it far too much.

“Trust me, Troublemaker, I am not jealous,” I say with a small shake of my head, and her own smile spreads, her voice going low and sultry.

“Oh, but you are. We both know it. You’ve been jealous for months that it’s never been you, haven’t you? That’s why you’re in such utter denial of how badly you want me.”

One more tiny step to me, not touching but close enough to feel her body heat.

“Whatever you want to believe, Josie.”

“Hmm. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” she says.

Just then, the music starts, and a noise of approval goes through the room, a dozen or so people moving to the center to start dancing.

That’s when Rory comes over, grabbing Josie and tugging her to the center.

But when she looks over her shoulder, her smile has gone wicked, and I know I just started a war.

Ten minutes later, I’m still at the employee get-together even though I should probably be in my office getting something done.

But I can’t seem to find the will, so instead I’m leaning against a wall, watching her.

The makeshift dance floor is full, bodies pressed against each other, and Josie and Rory have spent the entire time with their bodies pressed to each other, laughing and having a good time. I can handle that.

I can handle watching Josie have a good time with her friend, her eyes occasionally shifting around the room to find me and smiling when she does.

Something tells me that even if someone were lucky enough to lock down Josie, they’d have to be okay with that flirty side of her, and in that moment, I realize I could handle this.

I could handle the wild version of her—the flirt, the chaos—so long as at the end of the day, it’s my eyes she searches for in a room.

That is, until a pair of hands moves to her hips, tugging her back away from Rory and into a man’s chest. I recognize him as Dax from food service, and I also note the quick flash of panic in Josie’s eyes.

I almost move to interrupt, but the nerves melt when she looks through the room again, finding me.

That jealousy she accused me of having flares, and she smiles before looking over her shoulder to the man behind her.

She keeps moving against him, and he returns the look.

Then her eyes return to me as they start to move together, her hips swaying to the beat of the music, their bodies moving in time.

That smile on her lips goes knowing, like she understands what she’s doing, and I fight the urge to tighten my jaw, to give anything away to her.

Instead, I settle in against the wall, watching her with a challenging raise of my eyebrow.

She shakes her head, and that smile grows before one hand moves to cover his on her hip, and the other moves up and back, cupping the back of his neck.

Her hips move against his seductively, and I’d think she was being genuine, actually enjoying this dance with that ass, but her eyes tell me the truth.

It’s a tease. A taunt. A test.

A challenge.

Come get me. Win me over. Prove you want me. Take what you want.

My mind is screaming at me to do just that, despite my better judgment, despite knowing that I’ve got enough on my plate to add the whirlwind that is Josie. I’m here for work, not fun, after all.

But you can do both at the same time, can’t you? My mind reminds me. It goes over the conversation with Annette yesterday, where she told me she worries about me, about my not having a life, not having balance.

And most importantly, how in the last week I’ve had more fun arguing with Josie, despite the train wreck that is this resort, than I can remember.

I’m lost in thought, battling over my decision when I watch Dax press his lips to her neck. It’s not excessive, just a gentle brush of lips on skin, but it sets off something in me, snapping that final tether on my restraint.

Fuck it.

Fuck this game we’re playing.

Fuck keeping my distance .

Fuck whatever secret she’s hiding away.

God, right now? Fuck this job if it means I lose the first woman who has made me feel this wild and untamed.

I push off the wall, stalking toward Josie in the middle of the dance floor. Her hips continue to shift against Dax, grinding and moving as I approach, but a smile pulls at her lips like she knows she’s won.

“Hey, Dax, do you mind if I talk to Ms. Montgomery for a moment?”

He stops moving altogether, stepping away and lifting his hands in the air. “Oh, of course not, Mr. Fisher. I’m sorry, I know she’s a guest, but?—”