“No, don’t worry about that,” Bianca said with a wave of her French–manicured hand. “I have a brand new one that’s never been taken out of the box. I may need your help assembling it though.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Fox said, reaching across his desk and giving her a high–five. “An employee with a little get–up–and–go.” Maybe Karrigan did have a few friends who weren’t junkies or lowlifes; there was hope for her yet.
“Great Mr. Kemp,” Bianca said. “I’ll have my brother load it in his Pathfinder and drop it off here later today.”
“Sounds good.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the opportunity,” Bianca said. “I could use the extra tips.”
“No, thank you for being assertive. Job well done.”
Fox saw Bianca out of his office, and sat at his desk again. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out fast hoping it’d be Lea calling. It wasn’t her; just a text from an acquaintance saying she’d be checking into the hotel for a day–long stay. He wasn’t interested. In fact, it was time to change his number.
There was only one woman he wanted calling him.
—Lea
Lea had been sitting and staring at Fox’s business card for the last three hours. He said for her to call when she got the chance, but she was too nervous. It was easier to sit and stare at the phone, wishing she knew what to say.
The conference today had gone way longer than it should have. A lot of small talk went on, which deviated the course of instruction altogether. And even if it had stayed on topic, Lea’s mind couldn’t have been further from website developing.
She was close. This close to having a new man. A FINE looking man. Arriving at the wrong hotel for the convention was almost like it was meant to be. She’d hesitated when Fox asked her to stay for dinner. She thought he was way out of her league, but he turned out to be quite charming.
But now, she wasn’t so sure.
He’d asked her to stay at his hotel in his private room, The Opium Room (interesting, is it not?), for the duration of her five days here in Atlanta. She’d actually considered it until his dad made a comment that he was going to cut his… er… him off from sleeping with the hotel guests. What did that say about Fox? Lea needed the next man in her life to be exclusive to her.
She regretfully turned down his offer, and he accepted it without question. Lea liked that about him—that he wasn’t pushy. She also liked that he had a sweet tooth like hers…and his sister…and his brother’s cooking. Mostly she liked the way Fox was protective over her at the bar. He didn’t like Martin, the bartender, kissing the back of her hand, and he had no trouble letting it be known. Brandon never paid attention to stuff like that. He was secure to the point where Lea didn’t think he cared at all. He proved she was right.
What Lea didn’t like was how she ended up sleeping there, in his bedroom, after she’d told him no. And what’s worse was she didn’t even know how she got there. They’d had a drink at the hotel bar, and that’s the last thing she remembered before waking up in his bed, in his T–shirt. It smelled liked heaven, by the way.
Maybe Fox spiked her drink; she barely knew the guy.
What she did know? She felt weak when he was around, and got butterflies like a teenager all over again. And she could never tire of staring into his chocolate eyes. Deep, soulful eyes that they were. She knew that when he’s near her, she feels something that she’s never felt in her entire life: like she’s the only woman in the world.
Lea didn’t give him a chance to explain what happened last night, because she was running late to the conference. And then that fiery redhead came along. He talked to her at the door, but who knows? He could have let her inside after Lea went into the elevator. It was killing her to know who she was.
The clock changed from 9:59 to 10:00 p.m. She couldn’t put it off any longer. Time to woman–up.
—Fox
Fox put the key in the ignition of his Prius and turned the engine on. If Lea wasn’t going to call him, damn it, he’d just have to go to her. He’d waited all damn day and between the anticipation of her call and the frustration with his father, he was almost to his breaking point.
He waited for the traffic to clear and made a left out of the parking lot down the rolling city street. Even at the late hour, there was still a line of traffic making the rounds in Atlanta. It was the high point of the travel season. Families were on summer vacation, couples honeymooning. His hotel was a good example. It’d reached full capacity. That’s another reason why he didn’t need this shit from Roman right now.
If the man wasn’t his father, Fox would have told him to go to hell after he dropped the bomb on him about Jill’s stay. She had determined it was in the best interests of the business if she stayed the entire week—on the Kemp floor.
That was so far out of the realm of her consulting duties. What happened on the Kemp floor had absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the hotel. If she wanted to see things from a guest’s perspective, she should be staying on their floors. But there in itself was the problem.
No vacancy.
So why couldn’t she reschedule for a later date? Neither Jill nor Roman had given him a good reason for that. But Roman had every right to arrange Jill’s stay…At least until Fox fired him from his assistant manager position. Or until the old man died. And if the good died young, that was going to be awhile.
He was turning onto Charlotte Street when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but he didn’t get excited yet. With all he had going on, that could be anyone.
“Foxworth Kemp speaking.”
“Hey, it’s me,” a sweet, girly voice said.
Instantly his mood lifted. “Me who?” he kidded.
She paused. “Lea.”
“I know who you are, beautiful. I was messing with you.”
Another pause. She was probably wondering if she’d heard him right. Yeah, he said it, damn it. She was beautiful. After last night, he knew every inch of her perfect body. He hoped she remembered him, too. That it all wasn’t part of an erotic dream featuring some other man.
“I’m sorry to call so late,” she said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Do I sound like I’m sleeping?” Fox had reached his destination. He rolled into a space and turned off the engine.
“Uh, actually, not really. Fox, what happened last night?” she asked timidly, like she wanted to know, but at the same time, she didn’t.
“I’m in the parking lot of your hotel. Tell me your room number, and I’ll come up.”
“Pardon?”
“What’s your room number?”
“205.”
“On my way.”
Fox made his way through the revolving doors, passed the desk attendant whom he knew well (good friend) without acknowledging her. He took the stairs two at a time. To hell with the elevator.
This had been the longest day of his life.
CHAPTER SIX
—Lea
The last thing she expected was for him to not only be eagerly awaiting her call, but to be on his way over. Good thing she was prepared.
After her meeting earlier, she’d shaved her under arms and legs and neatly trimmed down below. This time if any shenanigans did go on, at least she’d feel like a woman beneath his touch. Not some wildebeest.
She dabbed some peppermint oil behind her ears and on her breasts. Took one last look in the mirror. Long curly lashes coated with clear mascara. Check. All she needed was some color on her cheeks and a dab of lip gloss. She grabbed her purse and pulled out the gloss, passed the neutral peach color over her lips just as a knock came at the door.
On the way to open it, she pinched and smacked the apples of her cheeks. Rosy color—good to go.
She ran her hands down the front of her indigo–colored, frilly blouse, made sure the zipper on her khaki pants was up, then swung open the door and smiled at the most handsome face she’d ever seen. “Hey.”
It was impossible to keep her eyes on his, beautiful as they were. She had to access the whole package. Clearly sculpted pecks beneath a gray, fitted T–shirt with sleeves that stopped just above bulging biceps. Dark washed jeans that sat low on his hips. A pair of new–looking Nike tennis shoes.
Bulging biceps?
She had no idea. But how could she? Before when she’d seen him, he’d had on dress clothes both times. Who knew that casual Fox was even sexier than classy Fox?
She gestured for him to enter and stepped to the side while she held the door. His smell lingered in the air behind him. She took a deep breath as she walked in his wake. Yummy.
Fox stood at the foot of the full–sized bed, casually slid the fingertips of both hands into his jean pockets.
“Feel better today?” he asked.
“Better?”
“You slept over twelve hours in my room. You should be well–rested.”
“Oh, that. I didn’t get much sleep in the twenty–four hours before my trip into town yesterday.” She never got enough sleep. But that was the story of her life.
“Hmm,” Fox said. Something was different about him today. The way he was staring at her for instance, with a cocky, sideways grin like he knew her deepest secrets. Like he’d known her for more than one day. Like they’d gotten very familiar with each other. Last night, perhaps?
“Fox, I can’t remember anything after the drinks at Dilemma. What happened?”
His smile widened. He did a sexy come here motion with his index finger that reminded her of what Ryan Gosling did to Rachel McAdams at the MTV Movie Awards the year they won for best kiss. For a second it crossed her mind to walk up to him and swing one leg around him while he held her up with one arm around her butt, the other hand in her hair while he kissed her passionately. She decided against it; she’d probably trip on the way there. Rachel McAdams was so out of her league.
“Don’t be afraid,” Fox said, enticing her with a wink. “I have something for you. Seriously.”
Who was she to keep a hella–fine man waiting? To make sure her lips were on their best behavior, she tucked them under her teeth and proceeded toward him. They didn’t have to hide for long. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, Fox pulled her against him. He cupped her face, kissing her deeply like lovers who’d been separated for a very long time.
When he finally broke the kiss, the air from her lungs went with him, leaving her breathless. Weak–kneed and breathless. Luckily, he still had one arm around her back. He reached for the hand that hung to her side, transferred something from his palm to hers. After he squeezed her fingers around it, he kissed the back of her hand and let go.
Lea took a step back. No—stumbled back, still affected by his kiss.
Slack jawed, she gazed down, opened her palm.
Behold! A sleek… silver… flash drive?
“Um, what’s this?” she asked, holding her palm out flat.
“You want to know what happened last night? It’s all there.”
“What, like video footage?”
“I have security cameras in my room. I usually only turn them on when I’m not there. Since you were so out of it last night, I got to thinking; you could wake up under the impression that I took advantage of your… vulnerable predicament. So, I turned on the cameras so you could see for yourself.”
“You’re telling me we didn’t sleep together?”
“No. We didn’t.”
He was looking her in the eye with a straight face, so she believed him. By now, she knew the look of a liar. Thanks to Brandon, that look was forever ingrained in her memory. But there were still some things she needed answered. “Well, why did I wake up in your T–shirt? And how did I get to your room in the first place?”
“You passed out at the bar. Good thing I was sitting right in front of you, because one minute you were talking and laughing, the next, gone to the world. I carried you to the elevator, then to my room.”
CARRIED ME!
Mortification set in and she couldn’t recall what she’d last weighed. Really, in the last year, she’d stop weighing herself altogether; mindless munching was the only antidote to an ugly divorce. But she knew the number was toeing the line between acceptable and, well, socially unacceptable. She also knew that guys didn’t look at girls size fourteen the same way they did a size four. But by the looks of his arms and chest muscles, hopefully Fox had lifted so many weights that, in comparison, she felt light.
“Oh.” She swallowed hard, peeled her eyebrows off the ceiling. “Now explain to me how I changed clothes.”
Fox paused. “I hope you don’t mind, but I put you in the bed, covered your legs with the blanket, and slipped your dress over your head. Then I put my T–shirt on you. I knew you would be itchy in that dress.”
Chin. On. Floor. There’s no way he didn’t see the spare tire below her belly button. At least if she’d had her wits about her, she could have sucked it in. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Fox took one slow step toward her. Then another. “I can see the panic on your face,” he said softly. He slipped his hand underneath her hair, cupped the back of her neck. Gently he tilted her head, whispered into her ear, “Don’t be.”
His lips brushing against her ear sent a succession of chills down her arm.
Then he looked her in the eye. “You have the most womanly, beautiful body that it has ever been my pleasure to see.”
Lea just blinked at him, lips parted.
Take me! Take me now! she wanted to say. That was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. And the way he said it in that low, breathy tone. Good Lord!
Even when things were at their best, Brandon had never said anything like that. The word beautiful or anything close to that hadn’t come out of his mouth since they went to their high school prom. He’d never looked at her with such desire in his eyes. Desire was never a part of their sex life. It was always a matter of two bodies going through the motion of what men and women were created to do, but devoid of any emotion. And up until now, that was all she had to go by. Never had she dreamed that mere words could set every nerve ending on fire.
Mixed in with her hot, turned–on feelings were hints of intimidation. This man had put some lovin’ on the ladies, no doubt. Before she could think any more about it, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her against him. Softly, tenderly, he kissed her, teasing her with a swipe of his tongue.
Still holding onto her, he said, “Can I buy you dinner?”
“I don’t… It’s pretty late.”
“Breakfast, then?”
“I noticed a small diner right next door,” Lea said. “We could walk there.”
Fox smiled, presented his arm. “All right.”
Lea latched on and they walked to the door.
“Don’t forget your purse,” Fox said, pointing to the bed.
“Oh, yeah.” She grabbed it and smiled sheepishly. “Ready now.”
Lea had walked right by it without thinking. Seems she was scatterbrained a lot as of late. Now she couldn’t blame it on a lack of sleep.
There was a lot going through Lea’s mind as they walked across the small wooden bridge from the parking lot of the hotel to the twenty–four hour diner. What went on last night was still not crystal clear, but it was indisputable what would happen tonight if she’d gotten in the car with Fox. They’d have ended up right back in The Opium Room. Not that she didn’t want that to happen, it’s just, she wasn’t prepared. She hadn’t been able to get the image out of her head of the buxom red at his door earlier that day. Red was much slimmer than Lea, dressed in fancier clothes, and exuded a sex appeal that Lea felt was impossible she could tap into. She didn’t fit the mold of the kind of woman he was used to. She was just a curvy girl from the country.
Those thoughts led her to an idea. Karrigan could give her the scoop on the kind of women Fo
x likes. And she obviously marched to the beat of her own drum. Maybe she could help Lea loosen up.
—Fox
“Coffee?” Fox asked Lea after they ordered their drinks. He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.
“I told you I love it.”
Fox crossed his arms on top the table, leaned forward. “It’s summer. In Georgia.”
Lea leaned forward from the other side of the table. Lowered her voice to match his. “If it was served at the beach, I’d buy it.”
Fox got a kick out that little exchange. Everything, her body, her body language, her likes, her dislikes, were signaling that she was the woman for him. The settling down kind. The kind that only comes around once in a lifetime.
“Tell me about yourself, Lea.”
“I’m a farmer’s daughter from Augusta, South Carolina. I married my high–school sweetheart while attending Clemson to earn a degree in Information Technology. We were together for ten years. He cheated. We divorced. I work from home. Volunteer at the Children’s Hospital twice a week. And my extra–curricular activity consists of water aerobics with my best friend Kate a few nights a week.”
Fox chuckled.
“I know. I’d laugh too,” Lea said flatly.
The waitress came back with their drinks. Said she be right back to take their order.
“No, it’s the way you said it,” Fox said. “You spit it out so fast it sounded rehearsed.”
“Yeah, well, when your routine’s always the same, that tends to happen.”
“What does your volunteer work consist of?”
“On Tuesday, I take my dog Glitzy—she’s a cockapoo—with me. She plays in a group session with the kids who are well enough to get out of bed for a while, and she personally visits the children who can’t get out of bed. She knows a lot of tricks. She jumps through a hula hoop, bows, gives high–fives and kisses. The kids adore her. And then on Thursdays, I push around the happy wheels cart.”
Fox raised a brow. “You mean happy meals?”
“No, you heard right, happy wheels. It’s a cart with three shelves full of toys and books generously donated to the program. I take it room to room. When the children browse the “shelves” for their Thursday toy, they feel as if they’re in a store. Some of them have been hospitalized for several months; it restores their sense of normalcy, at least temporarily. I can’t tell you which one fills my heart with more joy. Seeing their faces light up when they see the toy cart coming, or when they play with Glitzy.”
The Opium Room Page 5
