Laughing, Jensen settles me in the corner and covers my body with his, my hand flattening on his now damp, but still impressively perfect chest. “That wasn’t funny.”
“It snapped you out of all that worry going on in your head.”
“Who said I was worrying?”
“I could almost hear you listing all the reasons we’re a problem in your mind. I’ll tell you what’s a problem. One condom. That’s how many we have left. We’re going to have to either get creative or go to the store.”
I smile, my worry sliding away. “Can we do both?”
He laughs, a sexy, low sound that rumbles from his chest and awakens my nerve endings, his hands settling at my hips. “I like how you think. I like how you fuck.” His hands slide to my face. “There’s something about you, Danny Woods, and about us.” He lowers his head, his lips a breath from mine. “If you run this time, I’ll come after you.”
“I didn’t run—”
He swallows the objection with a slant of his mouth and a swipe of his tongue, and running is the last thing on my mind.
Part Nine: The Morning After Take Two
I blink, waking in sunlight, twisting around and sitting up, the blanket tugged up over my naked body, inhaling the spicy scent of Jensen all around me. My mind travels back to our night of creative orgasms, sans the condoms, lots of laughter, and a pizza from a place down the road. Rolling over, my brow furrows as I realize that I’m alone. The sound of Jensen’s voice mixing with someone else’s has me tugging the blanket more securely over my naked body.
Not sure what to make of the company we obviously have, I glance at the clock. It’s nine a.m., confirming I haven’t slept ridiculously long. I scan for my clothes with no success. Then I hear, “Good, you’re awake.”
At the sound of Jensen’s deep, sexy voice, my gaze lifts to find him standing inside the French doors that separate the bedroom from the rest of the suite, and boy what a sight he makes. Proving he can look just as hot no matter what he wears, Mr. GQ has traded in his suit and tie for a white T-shirt and distressed jeans. His feet are bare. His thick, dark hair is a rumpled, adorable mess, made more so by the certainty that my fingers, at least partially, are responsible.
“Is someone else here?” I query.
“Room service was here. I thought we should check out the quality. We could eat on the patio—”
“No,” I say quickly. “Not after...you know. What we did out there last night.”
He chuckles. “Yes. I do know what we did out there last night. I’ve been thinking about it since I woke up with vivid details. All the more reason to eat out there in my book.”
I shake my head. “I’m not eating out there.”
“No one saw us.”
“I’m not—”
He holds up his hands. “Fine. No patio. We can use the table.” He motions to the living area. “Come eat.”
“I have no clothes.”
“You say that like it’s a problem.”
“Jensen,” I warn.
He chuckles. “Okay. Okay.” He walks to a suitcase on the floor and pulls out a T-shirt, tossing it to me. “How’s that?”
“This works,” I say, the intimacy of sharing his shirt doing funny things to my belly. Cutting my gaze before he guesses my reaction, I slip it over my head. I like Jensen and I try to tell myself to embrace the short, sexy affair for what it is. Great sex. Just like I tell myself when a girl finds the said hard-to-find “great sex,” it makes her a little heady.
Jensen appears beside the bed, yanking the blanket away and pulling me to my feet, giving me a smoldering once-over. “I like you in my shirt.” His voice is low, seductive. “Even better out of it. Too bad we have to wait until tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“That’s right. Tonight.”
“What happened to sending me home?”
His hand slides to my lower back and he molds my hips to his hips, and his obvious erection pressing to my belly says he’s feeling the rather heady sensations himself. “I told you,” he begins, “that was me trying to be honorable. Seems I’ve thrown that idea out, so I’m embracing it.”
“I thought the morning-after regret and your ‘rule’ might come into play.”
“Considering we were up until the early morning hours, I’m pretty sure that idea means nothing. And you leave my ‘rule’ to me.”
“What does that mean?”
He tries to kiss me. I cover his mouth. “My toothbrush is next door.”
He dips his head and kisses my neck, his breath warm on my ear. “Tonight you stay with me. Understand?”
“Hmmm,” I murmur. “I’ll think about it.”
He inches back in the midst of a laugh, his green eyes sparkling in the beam of light, flecks of yellow in their depths. “Play hard to get all you want. I’m up for the challenge.”
“We’ll see about that.”
His lips curve. “Yes, we will indeed. But first, we eat. We’re both going to need our strength today.” He grabs my hand and tugs me forward, but I dig in my heels.
“Bathroom and a hairbrush first.”
“My leather bag on the counter should have what you need.” He kisses my forehead and releases me.
I blink at the very romantic gestures of both the kiss and the invite to use his personal items. It’s just sex, I tell myself. He has a huge career and I have medical school. So what if it already feels better than anything I’ve ever experienced?
Mentally shaking myself, I rush to the bathroom and shut the door, quickly using the bathroom and then staring into the mirror to find my skin brushed and reddened with whisker marks. I smile with the many memories that created those marks, deciding it’s my best morning look ever. Digging through his leather bag, I find a comb and managed to tame the blonde mess on my head. Toothpaste and my finger are next. There’s no real hope for my smeared makeup until I get to my room and can use proper products, so I leave it alone.
In all of five minutes, I exit the bathroom to find Jensen sitting at the dining room table, framed by a window view of the ocean. “Amazing view,” I say. “That has to merit guests just on its own.”
“Every property on the beach has the same view, so we have to be the best property to stand out.”
I move to sit next to him and inspect the ridiculous amount of covered plates on top. “Did you order the entire kitchen?”
“I didn’t know what you would want. Besides, sampling is a good way to check quality. You up to it?”
I glance at him and shake my head. “It sounds kind of fun, actually. What’s first?”
“Coffee?” he asks, lifting the pot.
“Oh yes. We slept, what? Three hours?”
“If that,” he agrees, filling both our cups. “And since the flight to Miami is only an hour and a half, we won’t have much time then to sleep either. We leave at six. The airport is about half an hour from here, so we should try to be out of here by four-thirty.”
I take a sip of my coffee and choke. “That’ll grow hair on your chest.”
Jensen tastes his and those sultry green eyes of his go wide. “Oh yeah. That has a sock-it-to-ya punch if I ever felt one. Let’s hope the food is better.”
“Dinner in the bar last night was good,” I say optimistically.
“Same kitchen,” he comments. “We should be good.” He lifts a tray with an omelet and we both grab a fork, and the look we share is punched with intimacy beyond patio sex. No. That’s not true. It’s not more than sex. How many times am I going to have to repeat this to myself this morning?
“Ladies first,” he says, motioning with his fork.
“Chicken,” I tease. “You’re afraid it’s as bad as the coffee.”
His lips curve. “Fine. Together.”
“Together,” I agree and we both cut off a bite and stick it in our mouths.
I grimace at the butter-sodden glob in my mouth and his expression isn’t much better. “I guess if you’re looking for a heart
attack, it’s fine.”
“Same impression on my end.” He covers the plate and shoves it aside, dragging another offering forward. Lifting the cover, we discover pancakes.
Remarkably comfortable with Jensen, I use my fingers to tear a small piece off. “Here’s hoping this is better,” I say, popping it in my mouth while Jensen does the same.
I shrug as I swallow. “As good as a box can do.”
Jensen sighs and scrubs his jaw. “Obviously, we need a room service overhaul.”
“It has to be the same kitchen as last night.”
“Apparently, a different chef,” he comments, which means the head chef doesn’t have a grip on the big picture. He glances at the floral furnishings. “This place needs a remodel as well.”
“Is that doable with the company’s low profits?”
“No profits overall,” he corrects. “What one hotel makes, the others lose, but an investment has to be made if this location is to stay afloat.” He turns his chair and then mine so that we’re facing each other. “I don’t want you to stress over all of this.”
“I don’t want to stress over it, but I am. How can I not?”
“Just know this. I’m committed to trying to save Meredith and increase the operation, not shrink it.”
“But the rest of the board is committed to the opposite.”
His cell phone rings and he digs it out of his pocket, grimacing. “I have to take this.” He holds up a finger and answers the call. “This is Jensen.” A pause. “Yes. Of course, I’m fucking in Florida. Do you think I’m in Paris sight-seeing?” He pauses, that dark edginess I’d seen in him when he’d thought I’d been pulling a fast one ever present now. “No,” he continues. “We’ll talk when I look everything over.” His jaw clenches and he glances at his watch. “When?” Another beat. “That’s ridiculous.” He waits a moment and makes an irritated sound. “Get everyone on speaker in thirty minutes. No. I’ll call you.” He ends the connection and sets his phone on the table, standing to walk to the window beside the table, his back to me.
Remarkably, I have no sense of intruding where I’m not wanted. “The board?”
“Yes. The same uncle and lynch-mob leader I told you about yesterday.” He turns and rests his hands on a chair. “They’re playing some dangerous games to try and push me out. I have to deal with them.”
“Push you out?”
“They want to force me to sell.”
“Can they?”
He laughs without humor. “Not a chance in hell, and they’re only making me more determined to stay in.” He scrubs his jaw, whiskers rasping on his hand, and there is a tiny pinch in my belly, remembering that rasp on my skin. “I’m sorry. I have a call with them in thirty minutes. I have to deal with this.”
I push to my feet, taking the obvious hint but not offended. I don’t think he wants me to go. He just needs me to go. “I’ll go shower and dress.”
He glances at the fancy watch he’s wearing. “It’s 9:30 now. I was going to suggest we go check out the competition’s breakfast at the nearest comparable hotel, but we should make it an early lunch.”
“Don’t we need time to meet the staff?”
“If we get out of here by eleven, we can be back by one o’clock and have a couple of hours with the staff.”
“You want me to announce our presence and set up the meetings?”
“Yes, but wait an hour. Let me call down and complain about the food and see how they respond. I’ll come get you when I’m done with my meeting.”
“Yes. Okay. How are you going to dress for today’s meetings?”
“As much as I’d prefer beach attire, I need the management team to know how serious this is.”
“Professional it is,” I say, motioning to the bedroom. “I need to grab my shorts.”
He nods and turns back to the window. I intend to leave but for a moment I find myself just standing there, studying the hard lines of his body, the tension rippling down his spine. Whatever that call was, it wasn’t good, and I can’t help but worry that the end is coming. The end of my job. The end of this...thing we have going on, and that punches me in the gut.
Suddenly terrified by how quickly I’ve become exposed with Jensen, I tear my gaze from him and walk into the bedroom. Spotting my clothes under the foot of the bed, I quickly pull them on under his shirt and then tear it away, intending to replace it with my own. My skin prickles and my gaze lifts to find Jensen standing in the doorway, his eyes sliding hotly over me, and my nipples pucker under the inspection. I give him my back, quickly slipping on my shirt, and tell myself lust really has the best of me. My brain is mush.
As if I’ve challenged him to prove he has control, not the same lust, he steps behind me, his hand sliding possessively to my belly. My lashes flutter, warmth spreading through me where moments before I was cold with confusion. He leans in and nuzzles my cheek and neck, his lips grazing my lobe, sending a shiver down my spine. I feel him smile against my neck before he groans softly and turns me to face him, hands on my shoulders. “You had better go before I tell the board to fuck off and take you back to bed.”
“If only it were that easy.”
“If only is right.” He takes my hand. “I’ll walk you out.” He starts to back up toward the living area.
I dig in my heels. “No room key. I have to go over the patio fence.” He turns and I pull him along with me, letting him reach around me to unlock the sliding door.
I step outside, realizing that I’m barefoot, but I had on sandals when I arrived. My eyes catch on them by the wall, and I reach down and snag the straps, dangling them in the air. “I don’t even remember taking these off.”
“I’m pretty sure they fell off when I lifted you.” My cheeks heat and he laughs, catching me around the waist. “How can you blush after everything we did last night?”
“Outside the moment is nothing like inside the moment.”
His expression turns somber. “Few wiser words have been spoken.” He reaches up and brushes my hair behind my ear. “When I’m in, I’m in, Danny. And I’m in now. With the company and with you. And don’t worry about that call. I’m not as easy to get rid of as they think.”
“I don’t imagine the word ‘easy’ being spoken often where you’re concerned. ‘Easy’ is like ‘nice.’ It’s rather unexceptional, and I know how you dislike unexceptional.”
“And perhaps that’s the answer to the mystery of why I can’t get enough of you.” He turns me toward the gate and leans in, pressing his lips to my ear.
I tilt my head and stare at him. “What’s the answer?”
He turns me to face the gate. “You’re exceptional, Danny Woods, and it seems it’s addicting. Which is why you really have to go before I strip you naked on this patio again.” He lifts me and sets me on my patio.
I turn to face him and he shackles my wrist, pulling me to the gate and him, his hand going to my jaw as he gives me a deep, fast kiss. “Make sure the maids didn’t lock you out of your room,” he says, settling me away from him.
Reluctantly, I walk to the door and slide it open. “It’s good,” I say.
“Yes,” he agrees. “It is good.” And then he turns and disappears into his room. I stare after him, and I’m not sure why, but something feels off. He’s just told me he can’t get enough of me. He’s just told me I’m exceptional and he’s working to save the company. What is this strange ball of anxiety in my chest? Fear over how drawn I am to him? How easily he could hurt me? Maybe. Or maybe not.
Part Ten: The Wolf
Forty-five minutes later, I’ve dressed in a pale blue sleeveless silk blouse and a black pleated skirt, with strappy black sandals. My hair is flat-ironed to a blonde, silky wave around my shoulders, and I’ve chosen a pale pink lipstick. I settle at the desk in my living area to begin making calls, trying to shake the anxiety from earlier, but I can’t. I try to call Meredith but don’t reach her, and I wonder if she’s on the call with Jensen. Next, I try Katie, only to
get her voice mail. Finally, I call down to the front desk and make contact with the manager, who recovers from the shock of our presence quickly and promises to line up key staff for our interviews. Task complete, I repeat my earlier efforts and try to reach Meredith and Katie again, and upon failure, settle on staying busy. I pin down meeting times with the key management staff of the hotel, try to reach Meredith and Katie yet again with no luck, and find out which hotel is our biggest competition and lunch choice.
I’m just about to try Meredith again when there’s a knock on the door. I pause with my hand on the knob, telling myself Jensen will not impact me any differently than any other man I’ve dated.
I’m wrong.
I open the door and his presence slams into me with the fury of a hurricane, and I am definitely in the eye of the storm. And that storm is power and confidence in a pale-gray suit with a green tie that makes his already striking green eyes a pure emerald fire.
He looks me up and down and drags me to him, kissing me soundly on the lips. “Every time I’m away from you, I convince myself I won’t want you this much next time.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” I say, despite having just done the same thing myself.
“I’m not either. Nor am I sure how I keep my hands off you while we conduct these meetings.”
He kisses me again, leaving me breathless. I reach up and wipe his cheek. “If we’re being discreet, I’d say leaving my lipstick off of you and on me is smart.”
“What fun is that?” he asks, wiping my cheek as well. “You’d better go fix your face and I’ll stay here like the good little Boy Scout I am, or you’ll never get that lunch I promised you.”
I laugh and turn away, but as I fix my lipstick, I remind myself to be cautious. He’s right. He’s no Boy Scout.
* * * *
Thirty minutes later, Jensen and I are sitting outside on a wooden patio of a waterfront restaurant that’s part of a nearby hotel, and I am heartily enjoying my meal. “This,” I say, pointing at the bowl in front of me, “is the best macaroni and cheese I’ve ever tasted and I’m a mac n’ cheese connoisseur.”