I almost laugh as I think about how much I’m about to see of her. “It was a blind date, set up by my sister. I’m not sure I see this becoming a long-term thing.”

  Delaney’s shoulders slump. “Oh man. I like her. I was hoping you’d hit it off.”

  “If you like her, you date her.” I kiss her on the cheek. “I’m sure Gary would go for kinky shit like that.”

  She tries to swat me on my chest, but I’m too fast and agile for her.

  “See you later, Lane.”

  Delaney waves me off and gets back to it, her mind on a million other things than what I’m up to tonight. And thank goodness for that. Because I only have a one-track mind in my pants right now, and he’s guiding my way right back to my date.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  PRESTYN

  I know Nick said to wait for him at the table, but I’ve been schmoozing all night while drinking more liquids than I should have and I have to pee. I don’t want to kill the mood by making a run for the toilet when we get upstairs—the walls aren’t thin here, but they’re not soundproof either—so I figured now was the best time to relieve myself.

  Besides, it gave me a chance to do a quick pit check, smooth my hair, and add just a touch of color to my lips. All things I’ve been taught to do during swanky events all my life.

  All things that come in handy before getting your dress ripped off so you can be thoroughly fucked, as well.

  Coming out of the restroom, I round the corner to where my date is probably waiting, and almost run right into the table Aaron is rolling to the storage closet.

  “Oh!” I exclaim and hold out my hands so I don’t barrel into it the table.

  “Prestyn.” Aaron’s voice is practically a sneer. “Not a bad turn out tonight.”

  I appease him with one quick nod of my head. “And there is chatter that we exceeded our fundraising goal, so I’d call it a success.”

  “Why haven’t you changed out of your dress yet?”

  Furrowing my brow, I try to figure out what game he’s playing at. With him, there’s always a game.

  “So you can help the crew tear down,” he continues. “That’s part of the job when you work in catering.”

  I fight the eye roll threatening to break free and turn on my sickeningly sweet voice instead, unable to stop myself from pulling ‘rank’. “First, I don’t work in catering. I work in retail sales. And I’m a Caine, Aaron. That would look terrible on the hotel, and the department, if the richest men in Tampa saw a Caine moving furniture into storage tonight, don’t you think?”

  His nostrils flare and he almost drops the table he’s holding upright. I’m definitely paying for that one on Monday.

  “In that case, the party is over. You need to vacate so us working folks can finish the job we’re paid to do.”

  Sounds like I hit a giant, insecure nerve. I always knew he wanted to weasel his way into my family, but I didn’t realize how much it irks him that he’s still not included on nights like these. I move that little nugget to a secure part of my brain to use at a later date.

  “I’m on my way out now. Just looking for my…” I look up and see Nick sauntering toward me, looking sexy as hell in his very dark grey suit. “…date.”

  I can’t take my eyes off him. He carries himself with such confidence, which comes as no shock. Not only is he a fantastic goalie, or so I’ve been told, from the chatter around the table tonight, he’s also been offered numerous modeling contracts, all of which he’s turned down.

  I just realized I’m about to have sex with a world-class athlete and potential runway darling. He better be as good in the sack as my fantasies think he is.

  Aaron’s voice begins to break through my thoughts, though I’m not really listening.

  “…those cost breakdowns on my desk first thing Monday morning. Are you listening to me? Prestyn?”

  “Hmm? What?”

  I finally glance at him to find him fuming at my very obvious lack of concern about his opinion.

  “I’m glad you had fun playing the hotel princess tonight, but you still have a job to do. What could be more important than listening to your boss’s very explicit instructions on reports… due…”

  Aaron’s voice trails off as he finally sees who is coming. His eyes blink several times and a weird red color starts to creep up from under the collar of his shirt.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  From the weird noise that comes out of Aaron’s mouth, I think the sound of Nick’s voice made my “very important boss” fangirl a bit. That’s my cue to turn this conversation around.

  “Nick, I don’t believe you’ve met my boss, Aaron. Aaron, this is Nick Williams, goalie for the Florida Glaze.”

  Aaron fumbles with the table and finally puts his hand out to shake. “Yes… yes, sir… yep… so nice to meet you, Mr. Williams.”

  He pumps Nick’s hand way too hard and for way too long. I have the fleeting thought that it’s probably how he is in bed, too. Ew.

  Wondering if there’s a way to bleach the thought from my brain, I refocus my attention on the scene in front of me.

  “Always glad to meet a fan,” Nick says kindly. He’s smiling, but somehow it’s not reaching his eyes.

  “Any time you need anything, anything at all,” Aaron gushes, still holding on until Nick finally pulls his hand free of his grasp, “Just give us a call and I’ll get Prestyn right on it. I’m her boss so she has to do what I say.”

  Nick looks at me for just a split second, probably wondering how I’m going to react.

  I give him a tight smile, my eyes just a little too wide as I grit out, “Yes. Aaron’s my boss.”

  “Oooookay. Well thanks for the offer Aaron. I’ll be sure to let you know. I’m heading out now.” He turns to me and I know he’s trying not to blow our cover. “Are you on your way out, too? Can we continue discussing that donor idea I wanted to run by you?”

  “Sure. I know a private exit so you don’t have to worry about walking the red carpet again.”

  We quickly say goodbye to Aaron who yells, “If you need help with that donor thing, call me.” Nick doesn’t even respond.

  As soon as we’re out the door and out of earshot, Nick begins laughing. “Ohmygod, is he always like that?”

  “What? The biggest Florida Glaze fan in the world?”

  I’m joking. I know exactly what Nick is talking about.

  “No. I’m her boss. She has to do what I say,” he says in a nasally voice, imitating what has to be one of the most uncomfortable work-related conversations I’ve ever been part of.

  “He’s like that all the time,” I answer truthfully as I lead us to a bank of elevators most people don’t know are here. “Actually, that’s not true. He’s usually worse.”

  “Worse than demeaning his employee, who is also the owner’s daughter?”

  “You’d be surprised how much men can get away with when you work in a misogynistic environment like this one.”

  “Misogynistic?”

  “It’s a long, not so pretty story. But as a hotel ‘princess’,”—I flash air quotes since I don’t really feel like royalty—“I’m determined to have a hand in changing that. But not tonight. I don’t want to talk about that right now. It’s depressing and squashing my libido.”

  Nick laughs again as we arrive at the elevators. As soon as I press the arrow pointing up, the door opens and we step into the enclosed space where I press another button to the seventeenth floor.

  “We certainly wouldn’t want to squash your libido.”

  “Are you making fun of me?” I look up at him through the very long false lashes I wear for important events.

  He pinches his thumb and forefinger together until they’re almost touching. “Just a little bit.”

  “It’s a good thing. First step of sneaking around this hotel—knowing there are cameras in every elevator in the building. Picture and sound. Likely, a security guard is watching us and listening in right now.”

  Nick’s eyes shift around the small area, trying to spot the cameras.

  “You’ll never find them.” He looks down at me with a smirk. “We need the security for a myriad of boring reasons, but we keep them well hidden. We never want the guests to feel like we’re spying on them.”

  “But they’re spying on you.”

  “That’s different. I’m alone with a man they haven’t seen me with before. They’re either waiting to see if you are going to harm me, or waiting to see if I’m going to start sucking your face, neither of which are going to happen. We have a great team, but those pictures would still sell for a lot of money.”

  I catch Nick’s grimace in the reflection in front of me.

  “You can’t even trust your own staff?”

  I look up at him, cocking one eyebrow. “Do you trust every single staff member at your job?”

  He presses his lips together and nods once. “Gotcha. Are there any more tricks I need to know about this place?”

  “Just one.” The elevator dings and the door opens to our floor. I step off and call behind me. “Don’t get lost.”

  I hear him chuckle as he follows me down the long hall to the family suite. I open the app on my phone and unlock the door, pushing it open to step inside. I’ve been here a million times since I was a kid, so nothing about it is unusual. Nick’s mouth, on the other hand, is gaping wide open as he looks around.

  Tossing my clutch onto the foyer table, I watch as he takes it all in, waiting to see what draws him in the most. I expect it’ll be the multimedia system or maybe even the view of the ocean from the floor to ceiling windows. Instead, he stops right in front of the built-in bookshelves, his eyes raking over the titles.

  “Are you a big reader?”

  He runs his fingers over some of the spines and I feel a shiver up my own, just from watching how gentle his touch is.

  “I don’t know if you’d call me a reader. Like I said before, poetry is more my style.”

  I lift one eyebrow, surprised by this declaration. I’m obviously not the first person to be shocked by the information.

  He turns to me with a wide, beautiful grin on his face. “Not what you were expecting me to say?”

  “Not what I ever expect anyone to say. I don’t know many poetry lovers.”

  He pulls a book off the shelf and opens it, flipping through the pages. “I’m usually the only one. It’s too bad. People are missing out on some beautiful lyrics.”

  “Lyrics?”

  He slides the book back into place and pulls out another, fingering its pages with reverence. The movement makes my thighs squirm with anticipation. Will he treat my body with the same gentleness?

  “Poetry always sounds like music in my head.” He snaps the book shut, but doesn’t put it back. “I’m sure I’m not the only one. Everyone knows song lyrics are just musical poetry. But for some reason, my brain automatically sets it to music.”

  “Sounds like you missed your calling to become a musician.”

  He laughs and I feel the rumble deep down into my core.

  “I didn’t say the music was any good, only that it was there.”

  I watch as he slides the book back into place, at an achingly slow pace. I’ve never had such an erotic reaction to books. But something about Nick’s hands on them, touching the pages, devouring the words with his eyes, turns the entire experience into something completely different than just reading.

  I’m not sure how much more I can take before I rip my dress off and dry hump his leg.

  “Would you like to see the rest of the place?”

  Nick turns to me, his eyes twinkling. He knows I’m trying to move our night along. How is he so patient?

  “I’d love to.”

  We take our time, meandering through the different areas of the suite. I show him the full kitchen that has probably never been used, and the large balcony where you can hear and smell the ocean. He’s impressed by the shiny black grand piano in the sitting room, even though none of us can play. I even take him into the very impressive master bathroom. The white marble counter is still scattered with my makeup and hair supplies from when I got ready for the gala earlier. The room comes complete with a bedroom sized walk-in closet, an oversized marble tub that can easily fit two, and a shower that has not just a rain head, but eight different sprays in the wall.

  “It’s opulent, but it’s my favorite part of the entire suite,” I admit as I explain how each individual spray can be adjusted for temperature or pressure. That elicits both of his eyebrows raising in surprise. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but feel free to come on over and try it after an extra hard practice.”

  He smirks at me. I can’t read what it means, but I hope it’s excitement over trying my favorite toy. “I’ll have to do that.”

  “Anyway,” I say quickly, moving through the doors and into the master bedroom. “That’s the whole thing. I’m sure there are details I forgot, but you’ve got a good idea of how over the top it is now.”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s over the top.”

  I purse my lips. “Mm-hmm.”

  “I’d say it’s a nice home away from home when you just need a break but can’t go far.”

  “You overestimate the intentions behind why this suite was built in the first place.”

  “I don’t really care about the intentions. I care about what we’re going to use it for.”

  I gasp as he come up behind me, his lips gently resting at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. The way his hands grab my hips reminds me of the tender way he handled those poetry books. My breathing picks up as I wait for him to squeeze or kiss or move or something. But he doesn’t. He stands there patiently, still, building the anticipation and I wonder what he’s going to do. What he’s going to do to me.

  Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks.

  “If we do this…” The puff of air from his breath grazes my shoulder making me weak in the knees. “We have to be on the same page.”

  “Yes, yes. Same page.” I’m practically panting and I can’t stop my hand from raising and sliding into his hair.

  He lets out a small groan from the contact. “This is not a love match. This is two high-profile people finding pleasure in each other. And it stays between us.”

  “Yes,” I whisper, my chest heaving like I can’t catch a breath.

  And then his lips begin to move. He nibbles on my shoulder, my neck, and when his teeth graze behind my ear, my legs practically give out.

  Before I can get my bearings straight, I feel Nick’s hands at my rib cage, his deft fingers pulling the zipper down on my dress. The silky material slides straight down my body and lands in a pile at my feet. I hear Nick gasp when he realizes I’m in nothing but a thong and my heels.

  The sound gives me a feeling of empowerment. Carefully, I pull away, stepping out from the material on the floor and turn to face him. Channeling my inner sex goddess, I reach up, grabbing the pins in my hair and pull.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NICK

  I have two thoughts as her dark hair cascades down her shoulders.

  One, my mouth is completely dry and I may have stopped breathing.

  Two, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  I knew Prestyn was stunning. There’s no denying her beauty, but right now, standing in front of me, in nothing but a scrap of red lace, a pair of sky high heels, and a hint of vulnerability on her face, I’ve never seen anything more stunning.

  Her flat stomach and breasts that will fill my mouth just right aren’t even the best part about her. It’s the softness in her eyes. The plumpness of her mouth. Her teeth betraying her nerves as she bites her bottom lip.

  I slowly peel my jacket off, tossing it to the side, my eyes never leaving hers. Stepping forward, my hands grace her legs and the words to one of my favorite poems begin to pour out of me.

  “I thirst for thy kisses; let me lay my lips on thine which are as fresh and ruddy as the pomegranate.”

  She gasps, eyes widening in surprise as I slowly move my hand up, circling her belly button with my finger.

  “Ah! I die within thine arms.”

  My hand flattens as I sweep it over her stomach. “Let me press thy lovely breasts, firm as the golden apples in the garden of Cama...” I continue to move, my hand going where the poetry takes me. “…and sweet to smell as the jasmine-flower.”

  With my hand now holding her head in place, I lean down and nip at her bottom lip. She sucks in a short breath before melting into me. She tastes like pomegranate, which, of course, brings more words into my mind as my tongue invades her mouth.

  Press me tighter in thine arms and let an amourous embrace unite us like the tree and bark.

  She finally pulls away, her eyes hazy with lust. “Did you come up with those words on the fly?”

  A smile breaks out on my face, knowing she’s about to be shocked. “No. It’s called “A Love Letter From India”.”

  She blinks rapidly as she processes my words. “So you didn’t write it?”

  I shrug. “No one knows who wrote it. It’s a great poetic mystery.”

  “Wow,” she breathes and I take her lips with mine again, poetry be damned.

  Prestyn’s fingers begin working the buttons on my dress shirt as I pull the knot free of my tie, tossing it across the room, words suddenly escaping me.

  What started slow and sensual, is now speeding up at a rapid rate. By the time she is pushing my shirt over my shoulders, I already have my shoes off and my belt unbuckled. I’m hardly able to wait when Prestyn pushes me away.

  Stepping back, I allow my eyes to take her in again. This time her lips are puffy and it’s a good thing I practice yoga or I’m not sure I’d be able to control my breathing at this point.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

  I can’t disagree there. Channeling my inner Zen, I slowly slide the zipper of my pants down, push them over my hips and let them fall in a heap. My socks are next, and despite my attempt at drawing out this moment, we’re suddenly wearing the same outfit—underwear and a smile.