Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The next morning was busy. Weston and I brought the two contractors through the construction site together, and then I headed down to where our legal and accounting team were set up in a conference room. The smile on my face as I opened the door wilted almost immediately upon entry. My father sat at the head of the table. I hadn’t even known he was back in town…or perhaps he’d never left.

“I thought you went back to Florida?”

My father gave me a stern look. “I’m obviously needed here.”

“Oh?” I folded my arms over my chest. “Did someone tell you that?”

I realized there was a room full of men with their heads swinging back and forth, watching the exchange between my father and me. I tilted my head toward the door. “Could we…talk outside for a minute?”

Dear old Dad looked like he really wanted to say no, but instead he let out an exasperated sigh and marched to the door.

Outside, he spoke before I had the chance to. “Sophia, you’re in over your head. You can’t run a hotel and lead a team to perform due diligence so we can make the winning bid to that shareholder.”

I shook my head. “I thought we discussed this at dinner. If I need assistance, I’ll call you.”

As usual, my father ignored me. “You should be focusing on getting information out of the Lockwoods.”

“What information?”

He sighed, as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain everything to me. “We agreed to a sealed-bid process. But it would be helpful to know what the Lockwoods will be bidding so we can best their offer without losing our shirts.”

“And how would you like me to do that?”

“That young blood who came to your defense the other day thinks you’re a damsel in distress. Use that against him.”

“What are you talking about?”

I wanted to think I didn’t understand him, because it was unbelievable to me that a father would suggest such a thing to his child. Or maybe I didn’t want to believe that mine cared more about money than whoring out his only daughter.

“Use your feminine wiles, Sophia. Lord knows you inherited those from your mother.”

I felt my face heat. “You’re serious?”

“We all have to do things at times for the sake of the family.”

I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath before answering. “Which family are you doing things for today, Father? Would that be the one you walked away from when I was three weeks old, or the one where your mistress was nineteen when she got pregnant?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Sophia. It’s very unbecoming of you.”

As per usual, trying to have a professional conversation with my father proved fruitless. I had better things to do than stand here and argue with him, so I gave in…for now. He could win this battle, but I knew exactly what I needed to do to win the war. Plus, the valuation of this hotel was going to take weeks, and my father’s wife would never tolerate him being gone that long. I’d outlast him for sure.

“You know what? Why don’t you work with the valuation team? I have plenty of other stuff to keep me busy.”

He gave a curt nod. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”

I extended a plastic smile, though my father had never spent enough time with me to understand my sarcasm. “Oh, I understand you perfectly, Dad. I’ll see you later.”

***

“I saw Billy Boy is back.”

I’d been working behind the counter at the lobby reception desk when Weston walked up behind me. He stood a little too close, so I moved to a computer three spots over and hit the space bar to wake up the operating system.

“You seem to have a lot of free time to wander around the hotel and check out what my family and I are up to,” I said. “It’s too bad you don’t use that time to do something helpful. While Louis is working on filling the open positions, the staff is short-handed. I’m sure they could use you to clean some toilets, if you have nothing to do.”

Weston followed me over to where I’d moved and leaned one elbow on the counter, facing me while I typed. “Doesn’t look like you’re too busy yourself, moving around from computer to computer.”

I sighed and motioned with my hand. “Do you see anyone else here? I’m helping out so Louis can do interviews upstairs for the assistant manager positions. One of the two reception clerks is in the back working on assigning rooms for new check-ins, and the other is at lunch.”

“Trying to win employee of the month already?” He chided. “Such a kiss ass.”

Renée, the woman who worked the reception desk, came out from the back. She looked at the two of us and said, “I’m sorry. I can come back.”

“No, no. It’s fine,” I assured her. “You’re not interrupting anything. What can I do for you?”

She held out one of those little cardboard room key holders with a plastic swipe card inside. “I switched your room. Would you like me to have housekeeping go up and move your stuff?”

I shook my head and took the key, slipping it into my pocket. “No, that’s fine. I’ll pack it up and move later. Thank you, Renée.”

Once she walked away, Weston squinted at me. “Why are you changing rooms?”

“I wanted a bigger one. When I checked in, no suites were available.”

“They weren’t when I checked in either. Where are you moving?”

I knew my answer wasn’t going to go over well. “One of the presidential suites.”

“I asked for a suite when I arrived, too. How many are available?”

“Just the one.”

“So why do you get it?”

“Because I’m the more diligent employee and followed up first thing this morning. Where were you? I saw you disappear bright and early out the front door.”

“I had a meeting.”

I perked a brow. “Another meeting? Let me guess. This one is secret, too?”

Weston’s lips pressed into a straight line.

I offered a knowing smile before walking down to the other end of the counter. “That’s what I thought.”

He followed yet again. “If two guests checked in and both requested an upgrade, how would you decide whom to give it to?”

“I’d give it to the one who requested it first.”

“That’s right. So that’s what we should do here.”

I’d had to wait for my checked luggage after our flight while I’d watched Weston breeze right out the door at JFK. I didn’t see him again after that until the next morning, so it was safe to assume he’d checked in first. He was technically right on what should happen here. But I’d had a lot of trouble falling and staying asleep the last week, and I thought having separate rooms to work and sleep in might help my mind relax better. Every time I looked over at my growing pile of work or my laptop, it made me think of ten other things I needed to jump out of bed and write down on my to-do list.

I sighed. “Could we at least alternate? A week at a time, perhaps?”

“Or…we could share it. We both know how much you enjoy being alone with me in the bedroom.”

I scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Your loss.”

I shook my head. “I’m sure I’ll be kicking myself for turning down such a generous offer.”

Weston moved to stand directly behind me as I looked down to type into the reception computer. “You look beautiful with your hair up, by the way. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He was so close that I felt the heat from his body on my back. “I didn’t do it for you to appreciate. Just living up to my part of the agreement we made—regardless of how stupid I think it is.”

Weston inched closer. His breath tickled my neck when he spoke again. “So you didn’t think of me at all when you were looking in the mirror getting ready this morning? I think you did.”

I had thought about him while I was putting my hair up. He’d told me he liked to look at my neck, and the thought that he might get off on it today had made me anticipate seeing him all morning. But I would never admit any of that.

“Contrary to your belief, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Especially mine.”

“Do you want to know why I love your neck so much?”

Yes. “I don’t really care.”

“I love your skin. When you wear your hair up, I can stare at your neck without you knowing I’m looking. Like this morning, while you were getting your coffee at six twenty.”

Maybe it should’ve felt a little creepy hearing he’d watched me grab my morning coffee, but for some reason, it didn’t. Oddly, I found it kind of erotic that he stole glances when he could. Though I tamped down that feeling. “I think you need a hobby, Weston.”

“Oh, I have one I quite enjoy.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Next time, I think I’m going to fuck you while you look in the mirror you use to put your hair up. So whenever you stare at your reflection, you won’t be able to see anything but me watching you come while I’m buried deep inside you.”

I was certain that if I backed up a few inches, I’d bump right into a steely erection. And though I was currently wearing my hair up as part of a bargain to keep what had happened between us private, I had the strongest urge to take a step back and find out, even while standing in public for anyone to see.

Luckily, a couple walked through the revolving door and headed right for the front desk, shaking me out of my moment of almost-insanity. Weston took a few steps back as they approached and then disappeared altogether while I checked them in. I took a deep breath and tried to focus, though the short training Louis had given me this morning on the hotel’s guest registration system seemed to have gotten lost in my lusty haze of a brain, and I had to get Renée from the back to help me finish.

Not too long after that, I got back in the swing of things. I spent a few more hours working the front desk, and then went to check in with my family’s team working on the valuation in the conference room upstairs. To my happy surprise, my father was no longer there. I sat with Charles, the senior manager of the audit team, who was in charge of the project. Three men and one woman sat around the table, buried in paper as they combed through the hotel’s assets. Charles told me he would be bringing in a few art evaluators to assess the market value of some of the paintings scattered throughout the hotel, as well as an antiques expert. My hour-long conversation added a dozen more things to my to-do list, and when I looked down at the time on my phone, I couldn’t believe it was almost six o’clock.

“Did my father say if he was coming back tonight or tomorrow?”

Charles shook his head. “I don’t think he was planning on coming back today. But he did say he’d see me in the morning.”

I sighed. “Great.”

Charles smiled sympathetically. “If it helps, you’re doing fine on your own. He didn’t ask a single question you hadn’t hit us with yesterday.”

That made me smile a little at the end of a long day. “Thanks, Charles.”

Since it was getting late, and I knew the housekeeping staff went down to a skeleton crew soon, I figured I should move to my new room so the old one could be cleaned and put back into inventory in case we had any walk-in guests tonight. The hotel wasn’t sold out, but there weren’t that many vacant rooms.

On the eighth floor, I packed up my clothes, toiletries, and all the work I’d spread out across the desk. Grabbing the stuff on hangers from the closet, I laid the garments over my arm. I’d stop back here to replace these with some empty ones from my new room on my way down to let the front desk know I’d made the switch.

With my purse, laptop, one big and one small suitcase, files, and a dozen hangers, I probably should have made two trips rather than one. Accessing the upper floors of the hotel required inserting a key into the elevator panel, so once I was inside, I attempted to balance everything while I dug my new swipe card out of my pocket.

The thirty-second floor of the hotel was the top floor, and all suites. The two largest ones, the presidential suites, were located in the corners on opposite sides of the building. A full row of diamond-level suites stretched between them. Finding room thirty-two twelve, I dropped a file on the floor while trying to scan the card in the electronic door reader. Bending to pick it up, I lost two of my dresses from their hangers. I barely managed to make it inside as more stuff started to spill from my arms. Using my hip to hold the door open, I dragged each of my bags inside the room and let whatever fell to the floor stay there. Sighing, I left everything at the front door and walked down the hall into the suite.

Wow. Totally worth the pain in the ass to change rooms.

To my right was a full living room, with a fireplace, floor-to-ceiling views of Central Park, two couches and two chairs, and a tremendous flat-screen TV. A set of French doors led to a small office, and another door on the left led to the bedroom. I walked there first, and a king-size bed with plush linens greeted me. On one side was a pretty settee, a love seat, and another fireplace. The other side of the room had the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the living room and—what is that in the corner on top of another chair?

It looked almost like luggage.

I stepped closer, and my eyes widened, confirming that it indeed was luggage.

Oh my God.

They’d assigned me a suite that wasn’t vacated yet!

I hadn’t noticed a sound since I walked in the door, but suddenly I heard the shower running, loud and clear.

Oh my God! I’m in someone’s suite.

While they’re in the freaking shower!

I froze for a few heartbeats, and then darted for the door. In my panic, I fumbled half of my belongings as I tried to toss them all out into the hallway before the guest got out of the shower.

But unfortunately, I was too slow.

A deep voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Going somewhere?”

Though, it wasn’t just any deep voice.

No. Of course not.

Only one man had that thick, hard-edged, confident tone that simultaneously irritated the shit out of me and made me want to slide my damp panties down my wobbly legs.

I didn’t even have to turn and see the face to confirm who it was.

In fact, I probably should have just finished tossing my stuff into the hall and bolted.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I took a deep breath and ever so slowly turned around.

Only to find Weston standing in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

The sight made my brain stutter.

“I knew you’d eventually come around.” He smirked. “You should have just joined me in the shower. Though I do love undressing you myself.”

I hadn’t gotten a good look at Weston fully undressed before. The first time we were together, he was behind me most of the time. And the second, he’d had on an unbuttoned dress shirt and pants. I’d obviously felt his chest pressed against me, so I knew his body was firm, but seeing all of his sculpted flesh up close and personal was an entirely different experience. Beads of water traced their way down carved pecs onto washboard abs, and I had the strongest urge to catch each drop with my tongue. It was nearly impossible to lift my eyes and deprive them of such a magnificent view. But I forced myself to snap out of it.

“What the hell are you doing in my room? I thought Renée had accidentally assigned me a suite that hadn’t been vacated yet.”

“Your room? We decided to alternate weeks.”

“Yes, but the first week was mine!”

“Who said? You agreed that the first guest to request an upgrade is the one who gets the room.”

“But I had the key already. You knew that! You watched Renée hand it to me earlier.”

Instead of answering me, Weston’s eyes dropped to my breasts. I had no idea how the man managed it, but somehow it felt like his fingers were grazing over my skin as his gaze traveled over my body.

Did it suddenly get warm in here?

My heart thundered in my chest while emotions ran through my head. Disgust—a little at him and a lot at me—anger, conflict, confusion, and a heaping dose of Jesus Christ, if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

Weston took a few slow steps toward me. Acting on self-preservation, I raised a hand and showed him my palm. “Stop. Don’t come any farther.”

He froze mid-step and raised his eyes to meet mine. The beautiful sea of blue irises disappeared as black, stormy pupils pushed their way in. We stood there for a long moment in an intense stare-off. Weston seemed conflicted about his next move—until his eyes caught on something to my right. They lingered there for a few heartbeats, and when his eyes slid back to meet mine, the air shifted. He could barely contain the grin he attempted to hide, and his eyes glinted with renewed mirth. I turned to see what had caused such a change and found myself staring at my own reflection. A giant mirror hung in the hallway, above a half-moon-shaped table.

Shit. I closed my eyes.

The sound of something soft falling to the floor caused a sharp intake of my breath. I didn’t need to look to know what it was.

Weston’s towel.

“Turn around. Hands on the table. Ass out, sweetheart.”

I didn’t budge. A war raged inside me. Was I really this hard up that a firm body could have me listening to commands barked by a man I couldn’t stand? Again? What the hell was I doing? The door was only three feet away. Surely I was capable of putting one foot in front of the other and leaving this jerk with nothing but his misplaced confidence and a painful erection to take care of himself. Yet… I couldn’t deny that my body wanted him. Outrageously so. It felt like my skin was on fire, waiting for his touch.

He moved closer, and the heat from his body radiated behind me. Unable to make a decision to flee, but also not ready to give in, I kept my eyes closed tight.

Weston gripped my hip and his fingers dug into my skin. “You’re going to have to give me something. A nod, a yes, bending over and showing me what you want, a moan—I’ll take a few blinks, if that’s all you can do. I’m into role-playing you not wanting me to touch, if that would work for you. But only after I’m sure you’re giving me permission, Soph.”

Weston’s other hand raised to my neck. He trailed a finger over my throat and traced my collarbone. I lost the little resolve I’d been holding on to.

Opening my eyes, I looked into his tempestuous ones. “Fine. But this is it. I’m not kidding, Weston. This needs to stop.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Now turn around. Grip the table. Eyes in the mirror at all times.”

It was kind of hard to feign righteous indignation when you were about to bend over and let a man have his wicked way with you. But I was a trooper. I kept my face stoic.

“Hey, Soph?”

My eyes met Weston’s in the mirror.

He grinned. “To come or not to come, that is the question.”

I did my best not to smile. “Let’s just get it over with.”

***

Twice.

I sighed, smoothing down my hair. For a man who had wanted me to wear my hair up so badly, he sure had no problem ripping it down. Weston was definitely a hair puller. And to my utter disgust, I loved every last tug. Though, this was the part I hated. Within two minutes of him straightening my skirt and disappearing into the bathroom, the cold air of rationality replaced the warmth of absurdity. In the heat of the moment, I couldn’t get enough. It was as if my lungs couldn’t take in enough air when Weston came near me with that darkness in his eyes. But as soon as it was over, a flood of oxygen had my brain firing again.

I rushed to gather my belongings before he came out of the bathroom, though I didn’t quite make it. Standing in the hallway, I was reaching for my suitcase when Weston covered my hand with his on the handle.

“Give me two minutes, and I’ll be out of here.”

I turned. “You’re going to give me the suite?”

He nodded. “I just need to pack up my stuff.”

I studied his face. “You sure?”

Weston grinned. “I’m game for sharing, if you prefer.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling more like the Weston and Sophia I was comfortable with. “Go pack your shit.”

He smiled and disappeared into the bedroom as I rolled back inside. A few minutes later, he walked out with his zipped suitcase in one hand and his dress shirt in the other. Setting down the case, he raised his arms to slip into his shirt, and I noticed for the first time a large scar running down the side of his body. It was faint, only a shade lighter than his tanned skin. Earlier, all I’d been able to see was a mass of perfect muscle, so I guess those outshined any minor flaws.

“Is that from a surgery of some sort?” I asked.

Weston frowned. He looked down and began to button his shirt. “Yup.”

Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about it. But I was curious. “What kind of surgery was it?”

“Kidney. A long time ago.”

“Oh.” I nodded.

He picked up his suitcase, not bothering to finish buttoning or tuck his shirt in. “I left you something in the bedroom.”

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

Weston seemed unsure how to say goodbye. Eventually, he said, “You know I’m only rushing out because I can take a hint, and I know you don’t want me here after, right?”

“I appreciate that.”

“While I’m at it, I love your ass, but I wouldn’t mind looking at you while I’m inside you at some point in the future. Maybe even tasting those lips that like to yell at me.” He winked. “Bite ’em a few times.”

I sighed and looked away. “There can’t be a next time, Weston. This really needs to stop.”

I didn’t need to look up to know he was smiling. His voice said it all. “’Night, Feef.”