45. Lorelei

45

LORELEI

I watch as Kian marches through the reception of The Regency. I want to say he moves with the authority of a man who owns the place, but let's be honest, he literally does.

Everyone around me senses it too, because I swear, every set of eyes—both male and female—turns to watch him.

The man sitting behind the reception desk he's set his sights on legit looks like he's about thirty seconds from shitting his pants. It's funny as hell, but also…I get it.

Kian Callahan can be one intimidating motherfucker when he wants to be.

I knew I was in for a whole world of pain when I booked the cheap airline seat and then reserved him a budget hotel room. Not that any room in a Callahan Hotel could ever really be considered as such. I'm not sure any of the men in charge of this empire know the meaning of the word.

I was hardly surprised when he admitted on the drive here that he'd called ahead and "fixed" my little mishap.

I smirk, just thinking about the great Kian Callahan squeezing his big body into a small, twin-sized bed.

It's almost a shame that he's figured me out, because as much as I'd hate to share that twin room with him, it would be funny as fuck.

I watch him at a distance as he talks to the young guy with the pale face. Even from here, I swear I can see his hands trembling.

I've no idea if he prewarned the staff here that he was coming, but something tells me that every single person on the payroll will know thirty seconds after he walks away from that desk.

I wonder if they'll have time to give his room a once-over before he unlocks it and walks inside.

After a few short words, Kian spins around with room keycards in his hand and a scowl on his face.

My stomach knots.

Did that guy just lose his job?

"What's wrong?" I ask the second he approaches me.

"Nothing. Come on," he demands, snagging his bag from beside me, throwing it over his shoulder, and grabbing both of our cases before he marches toward the elevators.

Not wanting to be left behind, I take off after him.

The second we're inside the car, he hits the button for the top floor—of course—and we begin to rise through the building.

"Why are you scared of elevators?" he asks simply, distracting me from the classical music that fills the space.

"I'm not scared of elevators, per se. I'm claustrophobic. Or I used to be."

"Used to be?" he echoes.

"I thought I'd worked through it. Apparently, I'm not quite there."

"Why are you scared of enclosed spaces?"

Thankfully, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open, allowing me to escape the question. There is no way I'm discussing my childhood with him.

Despite not knowing where I'm going, I take a chance and turn left.

I hear him following me, and I take that as a good sign that I made the right decision.

"Lorelei," he demands just before I turn a corner.

Pausing, I turn to the closest door, assuming that it's mine.

After passing me a keycard, he stands beside me and waits for me to let myself in.

I step inside, finding that the carpet is as thick and bouncy as it was out in the hallway. The need to kick my heels off becomes too much and I sigh in relief as I wiggle my cramped toes.

Releasing the door behind me, I expect it to slam, finally cutting me off from my annoyingly hot travel buddy. But the bang never comes.

I barely get a look at the luxury suite before I sense him step up behind me.

Spinning around, I find his eyes and give him my very best glare.

"Why are you in my room?"

One side of his mouth kicks up in a smirk.

"Your room?"

"Yes. My room."

"Ah," he says, ripping his eyes from mine and walking deeper into the room.

He doesn't stop until he's standing at the large windows and gazing out at the view.

I've no idea what he's looking at, and I don't care. My only focus is getting him to leave so I can have a few minutes alone to process all this.

When he asked me to book this trip for him, I never even considered that he'd want me to travel with him. The whole thing has blown my mind.

"There was an issue," he confesses before spinning around and turning those mesmerizing green eyes on me. "They only had one suite left."

I throw my hands up in frustration. "I don't need a suite, Kian. I need space."

He looks around. "There is plenty of space here."

I shake my head. That is not what I meant.

"What happened to the twin room I booked? I'll take that. I'm not as fussy as you." Hell, I'd sleep in the freaking cleaning closet if it meant I got a breather from him.

"Taken. There are multiple events happening in the area this weekend. Everything is fully booked."

"You're lying," I accuse, refusing to believe a word that comes out of his mouth.

"Call down to reception and ask, if you like," he offers, pointing toward the tablet that will connect me to the front desk.

As much as I want to call his bluff, I don't have the energy.

Instead, I stalk toward him, but before I get too close, I turn to the right and march through double doors that lead to the most incredible bedroom I've ever seen.

A huge oak four-poster bed sits pride of place in the center of the room. The bed itself is high, the comforter thick, and there are more cushions than I've ever seen on a bed. All I want to do is run and jump right into the middle of it.

But seeing as I've got company, I refrain from acting like a child.

I walk through to the bathroom, and my eyebrows rise at the two-person whirlpool bath that sits beneath a floor-to-ceiling window.

Rushing over, I find nothing but ocean on the other side.

My muscles ache as I think about relaxing back in that tub and watching the waves crash in the distance.

Heaven.

I take in the his and hers basins. Those really should give me the answer to my next question.

"Is the other room this impressive as well?"

Kian watches me closely as I walk out of the bathroom, slip my jacket off, and hang it over the back of the chair at the vanity.

"There isn't another room, Lorelei. This is a one-bedroom suite. The finest in the hotel."

His words slam into me, and I take a step back.

"No," I breathe. "That's not…we're not…"

"Freshen up," he orders before collecting my case and placing it into the bedroom. "We've got a meeting with the management team in an hour."

And then he walks away as if he hasn't just turned my world upside down.

"Kian? We can't stay in this room together," I argue before he disappears.

"Why not? Worried you won't be able to resist me?"

I sit beside Kian in the hotel's meeting room, waiting for the others who are meant to be joining us.

In true Kian Callahan fashion, we're beyond early.

I get it. I hate being late and unorganized, but there is such a thing as too early.

"So, is this a new manager we're meeting?" I ask, circling back to our previous conversation about why we're here.

"Yes, she started just under a month ago. She seems competent, and she's managed to flag some issues that have arisen with the previous manager."

"With the accounts?"

"Yes."

"You think he was stealing?"

"That's what I would like to find out. If he wasn't, then there is a serious issue here somewhere."

"A serious issue that is your job to resolve?" I raise a brow, desperate for the truth about why we're really here.

"Like I said, it's been a while since I traveled."

His eyes hold mine, and they hide a million words that he's not willing to speak aloud.

Am I crazy to think he only planned this trip because of me?

I shudder, hating even thinking it.

I'm turning into one of those women.

The ones he's trying to get away from who read into every single one of his actions in the hope of finding something more than he's willing to give.

He is not the one, Lorelei.

Not even close.

"Have you visited many of our hotels and resorts?" Kian asks, changing the topic of conversation.

"The Broadway, obviously. Tate and I went to your resort in Hawaii a couple of years ago. But that's it."

His eyes light up. "I guess that means that I get to show you the world."

"Christ, that's cheesy."

He smirks. "Unlike all the men who've come before, I mean it literally. And physically, of course."

I roll my eyes. "As big-headed as ever," I mutter under my breath as voices approach from the other side of the door.

"Ah, here we go," Kian says, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a notebook.

I frown. That's my job. What is he?—

My thoughts are eradicated when he places it face-up on the desk.

Notes my assistant should be taking.

My chin drops, shock rendering me speechless as a woman and two men enter the room.

Kian introduces us both before everyone takes a seat to get started.

Eagerly, Kian flips the notebook open and pulls a pen from his pocket.

It takes a long time for him to place it down on the desk, allowing me to read what is written up the barrel.

If you want a job done right, do it yourself.

Asshole.

As discreetly as I can, I kick him under the table.

It's childish, I know. But I can't help myself.

His speech or attention on the three people opposite us never wavers. They probably don't recognize the change in him. But I do. I see the way his lips twitch at the sides, making his dimples pop, and just how brightly his eyes shine.

Credit where credit's due, he's taken my challenge and given as good as he's gotten.

It doesn't mean he's going to win, though.

B y the time we walk out of the meeting room, the sun is setting, and I'm beginning to feel the effects of my early wake-up call.

"I've booked a table for tonight," Kian tells me as we ride the elevator back to our room.

"I hope you enjoy it. I'm going to be ordering room service," I deadpan.

"You're funny."

"You're not," I counter.

"You're coming to dinner with me. It's our raincheck date."

"We're not dating, Kian."

When the elevator doors open, I rush out. It's not going to get me anywhere, but any bit of space between us is a positive.

He doesn't say a word, but I feel him behind me, like an unwavering presence determined to drive me to the brink of insanity.

Unlocking the hotel room door, I march inside, but no sooner have I crossed the threshold than a large hand wraps around my arm, pulling me back.

My back hits the wall at the same time the door clicks closed, cutting us off from the rest of the world.

I don't look up, but I don't need to.

Kian is right there, crowding me with his huge body, making mine burn with his proximity.

I want to push him away, slip from between him and the wall, but I can't. My body is frozen.

His touch is light. Light enough that I could slip free if I wanted to.

I want to. I just…

"Lorelei?" he rasps. It tingles all the way down to my toes. "Look up into my eyes and tell me you don't feel it."

I suck in a sharp breath, more than prepared to lie to his face to save my own sanity.

But the second I do as he commands, all the words are gone.