Free Tempting Eden by Celia Aaron Page B

ditzy. Then, I began to earn my keep. I greeted each potential client and numerous brokers. Some I’d known for years, and some were new buyers from out of state and even out of the country.
    Before long, the room was alight with conversation, liquor, and sales pitches. I led each potential buyer over to the mock-up, giving them an idea of the views and finishes they would enjoy in the luxury condominiums. The pitch was simple. Where else could you own a piece of the Gulf with breathtaking views and the choicest amenities? There were very few locales that offered such luxury, and Belle Mar was set to become the hottest and highest-end spot available.
    The string quartet played beautifully, alternating between classical and more contemporary tunes to keep the room lively. Conversations swelled and ebbed, and I talked my way into several deals on the condos. Jack flitted around my periphery, asking guests if they wanted more drinks or food, giving out my cards, and distributing other sales materials. He seemed to intuitively pick up on what I needed. When Gray got too boisterous at the bar with an old friend, causing several heads to turn and my sales pitch to falter, Jack clapped Gray congenially on the back and coaxed him and his friend out onto the balcony.
    By the time the party was halfway over, I was parched and starved. I took a champagne from the nearest tray, downed it, and grabbed another when no one was watching. The hors d'oeuvres looked maddeningly delicious, but I wasn’t able to snag one from a server before another potential buyer walked up. I made do with the champagne while I extolled the virtues of the higher floor condos, which, not coincidentally, also had a higher price tag.
    I smiled, flirted, and endured more than a few roving hands, and by the end of the evening, I’d sold a quarter of the condos in handshake deals. I would have Jack send out the contracts in the morning.
    After I escorted the last broker from the room, I plopped down at the bar and downed yet another glass of the bubbly. My feet were aching, and I realized it was close to 2 a.m. The pre-sale event had been a roaring success, by my count. With a quarter sold and soft deals on a few more, I was on track to beat Gray’s deadline. The only condo that hadn’t gotten any bites so far was the penthouse. I would just have to work harder.
    The servers worked to load all the glasses up on trays for the kitchen, while others cleaned the tables and began setting the room back to rights. I didn’t see Jack anywhere, but Gray stumbled in from the balcony, a drink sloshing in his hand. I was feeling a bit woozy myself, but a few more drinks would ease the pain in my feet.
    “Hey.” I motioned to the nearest server. “No more for him, got it?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “But one more for me.”
    He filled my flute as Gray sank down on the stool beside me. He draped his arm across my aching shoulders.
    “Well, well, little Rochester heiress. You get it done? Sold out?”
    “Not quite. But a quarter of the condos are handshake deals. Contracts out in the morning.”
    “A quarter?” Gray shook me. “That’s not so bad. Maybe if you’d worn a shorter dress, you would have done half.” He leered at my breasts, the top swells revealed from the low neckline.
    “There aren’t many shorter than this that would be acceptable in public.”
    He licked his lips. “I’ve seen you in a few that might have worked well.”
    I took a deep breath to calm myself. Not tonight. Not tonight. Please .
    “What do you say we go up to my room?” His fingers dug into my shoulder, anticipation making him rougher.
    “I—”
    “It wasn’t really a question. You know that.” He smiled, predatory and smug.
    My stomach roiled, matching the chaos in my head. I couldn’t say no. He’d take this project away from me. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t bear to live with the consequences. I had too much to lose, more than even Gray