Read Flash Burned Online

Authors: Calista Fox

Flash Burned (4 page)

It was a little disconcerting being so under lock and key but also comforting to know Dane had the danger contained now. Though, obviously, he remained cautious.

I nipped at the corner of his mouth and said, “It'll be a good two and a half or three weeks before we're done putting up all the Christmas decorations. Just in time for our first few pre-launch events with the press and potential members you want to woo.”

“I asked Sales to crunch numbers so that we don't oversell the various levels of memberships. And I don't want anyone to ever be turned away from a suite, the dining room, or the golf courses because of full capacity. We need to leave a little wiggle room.”

“It'll help to have all the casitas completed before we get into the grand opening festivities.”

He nodded. “Almost there.” With a grin, he added, “We're so close, baby.”

“I know.” I kissed him. “And I'm so thrilled. I'm happy you seduced me into the Event Director position—”

His brow jerked up once more.

“Well, you did,” I reminded him. With a ridiculous salary and an outrageous annual budget. With a gorgeous office. With his hotter than hell body—and the promise of no-holds-barred sex.

I'd taken a gigantic bite out of all the offers and he'd reeled me in, hook, line, and sinker.

“Anyway,” I said. “I'm just so glad everything's coming together. It's so exciting, Dane. Really.”

His lips teased mine for a few sexy moments. “I knew you were the woman for the job. And for me.”

“So sweet,” I whispered as I kissed his jaw. “And flirty.”

“Speaking of…” This time, his brows wagged.

“Uh-uh.” I slipped from his lap. “We're going to be late.”

His gaze narrowed. “You've never once said no to me.”

It was sort of an unwritten rule I'd agreed to when we'd gotten together. And because I couldn't resist him.

“I didn't refuse you when you joined me in the shower earlier, now did I?” Granted, I wanted him to take me back to bed now, but added, “Today's crucial, Dane. We have so much to do before the first seating. Everything has to be perfect. And don't forget—I want a champagne toast from you. Heartfelt. Warm and fuzzy, even.”

Now he glowered.

I sighed. “Heartfelt and … glowing,” I amended. “I want everyone to know how much you appreciate the effort they've put into bringing the hotel on-line, their training, hiring of staff,
everything
, when we don't even have guests yet.”

“I want them to understand that as well.” He stood and added dryly, “I don't have to kiss babies on the cheek and let them pinch my nose, do I?”

With a laugh, I told him, “It's a mock run-through at a hotel, not a campaign trail. And employees only.”

I headed toward the tall glass-and-wood-enclosed doors.

“Not that I have a problem with babies.” His unexpected words chased after me.

I whirled around and stared at him. The first time we'd made love without a condom had been a risky endeavor, since I hadn't been on the pill long. We'd both been willing to take the chance that night. I didn't really know what to make of his comment though, so I simply said, “Think we have enough to contend with at the moment.”

I headed into our bathroom for last-minute touch-ups. Then we drove to the Lux. It didn't matter how many times I'd viewed the perimeter with its stunning decorative black-and-gold-leaf wrought-iron fencing in between elegant ecru columns topped with large gas lanterns that burned even during the day, I would forever be in wonderment at the resort's beauty.

Dane's new limited-edition Mercedes McLaren slowed at the gate and he slid the tinted window down for the guard to ID him.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Bax,” John said. Bending at the waist to get a glimpse at me, he added, “And you as well, Miss DeMille.”

“Thank you, John. Happy pre-Thanksgiving.”

“To you both, too.”

“You'll be joining us this evening, right?” I asked.

“Wouldn't miss it,” he said with a grin. “In fact, it'll be difficult to concentrate on anything else today. I can only imagine how Chef D'Angelo will elevate a holiday meal to Lux standards.”

We'd included John with the executives' dinner, the last event of the evening. Dane held him in high regard, since he'd been the one on-duty when I'd been kidnapped. John had realized, in a split second, that what I had thought was Dane's rare Hennessy Venom F5 was a mirror image, but not the exact one. He'd noted the plate on the back of the sports car I'd gotten in to was from Nevada, not Arizona. And had immediately contacted Amano and Dane to alert them to the situation. That rapid response had gone far in aiding in my rescue.

Amano had given John a raise. Dane had promptly sold the F5, unable to face it in his garage without wanting to rip someone's head off, as it reminded him of the danger I'd been in.

We passed through the tall double gates and along the winding stone road, edged by lush green grass and full sycamore trees. The grounds were meticulously groomed, and as we entered the circular valet area with the fountains and magnificent waterfalls, immaculate hedges, and fancy topiary I felt exactly the same as I did whenever we arrived at Dane's secluded estate. That I was home.

Awe overcame me, but I was used to it by now. The hotel was too amazing for words, with carefully placed vines climbing up the stone walls and the entire front of the enormous four-story lobby accented with huge, asymmetrical windows showcasing a spectacular chandelier inside that I'd once joked could wipe out a small village if it fell, and its accompanying, more reasonably sized chandeliers. Relatively speaking, of course. This was the Lux. The height of lavishness and superior service.

One of the valets, Brandon, opened my door with his usual friendly smile. I tried hard not to worry about what speculation might run rampant over the fact that Dane drove me to and from the resort these days. The story we'd given was that I'd been in a car accident, which accounted for my presumably “totaled” SUV, the scar on my forehead, and the fact that I'd left the Lux for some time following the incident with Vale, which no one other than Dane, Kyle, and Amano knew about. Everyone appeared to buy it, but I wouldn't have been surprised if I offered some watercooler fodder.

“Good morning, Miss DeMille,” Brandon beamed. He'd dressed in his special-occasion uniform—a tailored cutaway black tux and white gloves. The casual attire for him and the other valets was dress pants with an elegant polo shirt, both in black, with the hotel's elaborate crest in gold on the left chest.

“You look dashing,” I told him.

“Yeah, Hollywood's been calling. They want me to be the next James Bond.”

“Come on, now. That's not worth leaving 10,000 Lux.”

His grin widened. “Sorry, but having my own Bond girl just might be enough to lure me away.”

I laughed. “I suppose I could see how that might tempt you.”

Dane collected me, gesturing for me to precede him toward the entrance. Two other impeccably dressed valets pulled the tall doors open as Brandon sped off in the McLaren. We entered the lobby, all gleaming marble and rich wood. The round table in the center was a focal point with a bronze, silver, and gold vase standing nearly six feet and positioned in the middle of the table, below the main chandelier. It sprouted gorgeous cream-colored flowers and dripped lush green foliage.

Farther back were two curving staircases with more of the decorative black wrought iron and marble that led up to a mezzanine. The entire property was breathtaking, but the lobby really spoke to me. The most minute details had been seen to, making it a fairy tale come to life. I'd take the Lux over any palace, any day.

It wasn't just the sophisticated extravagance that made the resort so near and dear to my heart. It was the fact that it was Dane's dream. His vision. His blood, sweat, and tears. He'd conceptualized the hotel and the grounds, then worked with engineers, architects, and designers to bring it all together. He had every right to be proud of the end result.

We walked to the west-wing bank of elevators. The executive offices were on the floors of this section of the hotel. The east wing was reserved for the guest suites and penthouses. The property was also covered with numerous two- to six-bedroom casitas boasting views of golf courses, babbling brooks, or mirror-surfaced ponds. All of it surrounded by the awe-inspiring red-rock formations of varying shapes and sizes. Rippled sandstone mesas, spires, and canyons. The location couldn't be beat.

We stepped out of the car on the top floor and Dane left me momentarily at my office. Amano awaited us.

I unpacked my laptop and responded to some e-mails; then it was time for the first seating. The weather was nice with our mild autumn, following one of the longest monsoon seasons in Sedona's history. The supplement of tall heaters with pyramid glass tops filled with roaring flames made it possible to host the day's events outside in the grand courtyard. A huge space with the potential to accommodate thousands of guests. There were also event lawns and a conference center with ballrooms on-property.

I'd selected the grounds by the gardens and fountains, however, because I wanted to see how we could work with the spaciousness when it came to an intimate group of roughly seventy-five to a hundred per party.

The first soiree was a lively brunch with a jazz ensemble to provide entertainment. The buffet tables were covered with full-length cloths and elegant silver chafing dishes. There were endless choices of salads and sides, along with four different carving stations, including pork loin, duck, prime rib, and the most gorgeous turkey I'd ever laid eyes on. Chef put his five-star spin on the traditional holiday fare as well as the contemporary offerings.

We'd set the brunch with rounds of eight, fully decorated with dramatic floral centerpieces, votives, and real fall leaves in crimson, orange, and gold. The full-length tablecloths were rich sienna satin and enhanced by shorter organza toppers in shimmering amber.

The china and flatware, as well as all of the serving dishes, had stocked the dining room while resort staff had been hired and had been invited to enjoy the food during their breaks for a very nominal monthly fee. It would all be moved to the employee dining room when the Lux opened, and all of the members-only dining rooms, formal and informal, would be equipped with new tables and chairs, never-before-eaten-off-of plates, and accompaniments, right down to butter knives and napkins.

I made the rounds, checking on everyone and noting on my iPad what worked well and what needed improvement. Dane was a gracious host, a little less boss and a little more personable, even cracking a joke or two, which seemed to take the staff by surprise.

The second seating was a four-course plated lunch. We used a u-shaped setting with six-foot tables to get a feel for that sort of execution. For dinner, we had a smaller crowd, since it was only the department heads and their directors. I didn't have a VP over me—just Dane, per his desire.

In addition to cataloging the pros and cons of this last party, I also mingled and sampled the food. A cocktail reception was set in the rose garden, with numerous high tops, three full premium bars, and a martini bar that was a lit ice sculpture carved into the 10,000 Lux crest and which chilled the martinis as they flowed from the top and drained into glasses at the bottom. There were also various appetizer stations, including a seafood tower, dim sum, and antipasto and charcuterie with imported cheeses and meats, foie gras terrine, pâtés, and more.

Tuxedo-clad servers also roamed the grounds, offering fancy hot and cold hors d'oeuvres and Cristal.

I'd brought in the pianist and harpist I'd hired for my last over-the-top wedding as an independent planner and they sounded lovely in the mostly quiet night, with the hint of fountains in the distance.

“This is pretty incredible,” Kyle said as he sidled up next to me. He was a sky-blue eyed Adonis with crazily mussed sandy-brown hair. At twenty-two, he was four years younger than me. “You did an awesome job.”

“I have staff, remember? Lots of help.” Though I inwardly beamed at his compliment.

“Sure, but you planned it all, right?”

“It's surprisingly not that dissimilar from planning weddings.”

“I feel like I'm in a movie. And the food…” His beautiful blue eyes seemed to practically roll into the back of his head. “I'm eating my way through the stations.” He also snagged a duck confit spoon appetizer from a passing waiter and then a toasted baguette round with the most amazing melt-in-your-mouth beef carpaccio I'd ever tasted.

“Don't forget we're also here for dinner,” I said. “Chef will
not
be happy if you don't devour all five courses.”

“Yeah, wow.” He deposited the empty spoon on a silver-plated cleanup tray that came around and then reached inside his suit jacket to the inner pocket and pulled out the menu card he'd lifted from one of the place settings. “I don't even know what any of this stuff is, aside from the turkey—and even that's too fancy to pronounce.”

I laughed. “It's a French dish. Don't worry about it. Believe me when I say it'll rock your world. I've sampled everything over the past couple of weeks and have the too-tight dress on to prove it.”

For the evening, I'd changed into an emerald strapless mini. The one I'd bought for my job interview, which had actually been a private dinner with Dane on the terrace of the hotel. It was my favorite dress, because it was close in color to his vibrant eyes.

“You look sensational,” Kyle commented as his gaze slid over me, glimmering with adoration.

He knew better than to admire me in Dane's presence, but since Dane was currently preoccupied with a group of execs, I surmised Kyle felt bold enough to steal more than a quick glimpse.

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