by Zara Cox
The uncomfortable silence was broken by the waiter’s arrival to clear away our plates. Neve chatted with him for a minute but through it all, my gaze resting on her face as she talked, I saw the fiery what the fuck? looks she sent me.
The temptation to tell her to down her sword, tell her she’d won in the business stakes this time rose.
I stopped myself just in time. I wasn’t going to let sex get in the way of this deal.
Business was what I was best at. And staying close, keeping an eye on how Fantasy Rooms progressed, was prudent.
The waiter finally left, leaving me blessedly alone with Neve. Her expression didn’t bode well; nevertheless my dark mood receded, replaced by deep carnal anticipation.
‘Suggestion. Maybe you should make more of an effort in the presence of my new business partners, huh?’
I smiled. ‘Don’t you mean our business partners?’
Her plump lips flattened in an irritated line.
‘If they wanted to keep my interest they should’ve stuck to talking business. But that’s not what this is about, is it, Neve? I’m a Mortimer. If you didn’t want to hear about my unsightly baggage or hear unsavoury truths, you shouldn’t have asked.’
She glared harder. ‘It’s called getting to know each other.’
‘Go on, then, it’s your turn.’
‘If you wanted to know, then you should’ve paid attention.’
Shit. What did I miss? ‘I’m paying attention now.’
‘You lost your chance. Now I’m more interested in what you meant about your parents.’
Tension spiked again but I throttled it down. ‘Why?’
She shrugged, the action highlighting the smooth curve of her shoulder. Sunlight glinted off her creamy skin, wetting my mouth with the need to trail my tongue over it.
‘I’d like to know if you inherited your rude and abrasive characteristics from them.’
The pulse beating at her throat made me harder. I itched to stroke it. Stroke her all over, right before I devoured her. I wanted to feast on her in so many ways I doubted we’d make it out alive by the time I was done. She caught the direction of my thoughts. Her colour heightened and she pressed her lips together in that way I was beginning to realise signalled, and attempted to deny, her arousal.
‘You think you can handle me, Neve?’
‘I’ve proved I can handle you,’ she fired back. ‘But of course, if you’re scared of a little...revelation, you can go right back to brooding like some wannabe rock star.’
I laughed. The sound startled me, emerging from a place I thought was locked and weighted down with concrete. With a start I realised it’d been a while...hell, a long while since I’d laughed so heartily.
And I was laughing because of Neve.
The sound slowly died as I watched her expression alter.
Soften.
That heavy stone I’d carried for longer than I could remember, the one that didn’t permit me to give any quarter when it came to useless emotion...shifted. Attempted to crack open. I tightened my gut against the sensation, whipping up anger that felt a little out of place.
Foolish and overdramatic.
Bloody hell, what was going on with me? This was about sex. Ultimately. So why did it feel even more precarious to know I wasn’t the only one caught in this damn vortex of risky emotion and perpetual horniness?
One beautifully sculpted eyebrow rose, silently prompting an answer.
Right.
My parents.
Predictably, thoughts of them dampened my arousal, diluted the thick shroud of desire whipping around us.
‘I meant exactly what I said. They didn’t emigrate to Greece to be surrounded by its warm and fuzzy locals. They decided they’d had enough of their own family and wanted to live in seclusion, so they bought an island and did exactly that.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You grew up on a Greek island?’
I shook my head, staring at her mouth in the hopes of allaying the deep, bruising ache that went hand in hand with this subject. But while thoughts of biting and licking that plump lower lip helped, they weren’t enough. Nothing was ever enough. ‘They mean my mother and father. Alone. Exclusively. They bought their island and rarely step foot off it.’
She inhaled sharply. ‘They went without you?’
I stared harder at her mouth, unwilling to confirm whether the sympathy in her voice was reflected in her eyes. ‘Yes.’
‘How old were you?’
‘I was nine.’
Her fingers toyed with her wine glass. I wished I had something stronger than mineral water. But my paranoia about drinking in public wasn’t easy to dismiss.
Not after Penny.
Not when a six-hour black hole yawed in my memory. Fucking hell. Another subject I didn’t want to dwell on for even a second—
‘But...why...?’ Neve asked.
For a blind moment I thought I’d spilled my darkest secret. But no. We were talking about my parents.
I exhaled sharply. ‘They were satisfied they’d done their duty, I expect. Made their contribution to the great Mortimer gene pool. They left and never looked back.’
More questions flared in her eyes. I raised my hand before she could voice them.
‘What’s your agenda here, Neve?’ I asked with a grating laugh. ‘If I learned anything from my...unique childhood growing up in the Mortimer clan, it’s that everyone has one.’ My parents had proved that conclusively. Penny had proved that when she’d sidled up to me under the pretext of needing help and shattered the one relationship that meant a damn. ‘So what’s yours?’
Neve’s eyes widened into pools of affront. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I get the business angle. You feel you were wronged and are out to right it...somehow. But this sudden interest in me? What’s that all about? You want more ammunition for your little arsenal?’
A dart of hurt dimmed her eyes before the blue depths flashed with anger. ‘Don’t judge me by your standards.’
The laughter that rumbled from me felt less pleasant this time. ‘No. You play dirtier. Remind me again who left whom high and dry last night?’
She flushed and damn if I didn’t want to trace that sweet rush of heat with my tongue. ‘You know what to do if this gets too much for you.’
I smiled. ‘You won’t run me off that easily, darling.’
‘We’ll see about that. And while we’re at it, know that I won’t be letting you steal any more of my panties.’
‘Because you don’t plan to take them off at all the next time I fuck you or because you won’t be wearing any in the first place?’
Outrage rose swift and hot but died just as rapidly in her eyes, leaving the expression I craved. Unabashed desire. She tried to hide it by making a production of pushing back her chair and standing but her agitated breathing and the hard nubs of her nipples poking against her summer dress gave her away.
‘I have work to do. You’re in Suite 611. Your activation key has been sent to your phone. If you need directions or anything else be sure to let the concierge know.’ She paused with her hand gripping the back of her chair, exuding a haughtiness that made every cell in my body burn. ‘I trust you can amuse yourself until Sam and Tyler are ready for us to view the room?’
‘Of course.’
‘Great,’ she said briskly. With a sexy twirl, she walked away without a backward glance. I watched her until she disappeared from view, still puzzled as to why she hit all my spots with such ferocity. Why she got under my skin when no other had been able to penetrate the shell I’d been forced to construct to withstand unrelenting barbs from a family such as mine.
The churning in my gut intensified as I admitted that it had nothing to do with Neve playing hard to get. Although, for the first time in my life, I found that too a huge turn-on. Hell, everything
was a bloody turn-on with her.
With an irritated snort, I stood and left the table, ignoring the tumultuous emotions dogging my steps.
My suite was impressive. Understated luxury coupled with elegant comfort was the running theme of Nevirna. The bed and lounges were sumptuous, the suite and adjoining balcony like each one I’d seen on our tour, facing a serene lake with honest-to-goodness swans gliding across its glass-smooth surface. At this time of year, with the promise of summer on the horizon, the air was fresh and clean.
Even the most demanding customer would be hard-pressed to find anything lacking in the resort. It was the sort of standard The Mortimer Group hotels strove for.
Somehow, regardless of the setback two years ago, Neve had turned her business around and made a success of it.
Under normal circumstances, she would be a great candidate for an alliance with The Mortimer Group’s boutique hotels. The irony of our real circumstances produced a twisted smile.
For one thing, that curious...itch I’d experienced when she showed me the door last night, and again when she walked away from me in the dining room, was growing irritatingly unbearable.
As if I needed her...somehow.
And when had I needed anyone?
I wanted to fuck Neve Nolan. I didn’t need to...be with her. The whole situation was screwed up. I had no room in my life to battle this compulsion.
Not when I had Gideon to deal with and the shattered remains of a life to be salvaged in London.
But before leaving Manhattan I’d sent the board members my request to return to the board and they’d responded. The formal vote would be at the monthly board meeting. One Gideon would attend.
The three-year anguish that’d lived in my chest since that fateful night Penny had shattered Gideon’s and my life wrenched at me again.
But the simple truth was that I was ready to get on with my life.
Four hours later, I stood and stretched. Beyond the balcony and landscaped gardens, the setting sun was casting an impressive glow over the lake. The scene was truly breathtaking, perfect for romantic strolls and stolen quickies between hedgerows...if you were into that sort of thing.
Was Neve into that sort of thing?
I rescued my phone, grimacing at the eagerness with which my mind raced back to her. To that sizzling half-hour on her sofa last night. To her slick, tight heat and the incredible taste of her. My hard-on was still raging when I stepped into the shower fifteen minutes later. I knew jacking off would only bring ridiculously temporary and empty relief so I didn’t bother.
Which meant my mood wasn’t much improved when I entered the dining room in the evening to be informed I would be dining alone. Neve was otherwise engaged and would see me later, her manager added.
Swallowing my irritation at the brush-off, I ordered a steak, grudgingly conceding its excellence. I was finishing the meal off with an espresso when a member of her staff approached.
‘Mr Mortimer, Miss Nolan has asked me to escort you to the refurbished suite.’
We exited the main hub of the hotel and travelled a series of well-lit stone pathways to the east wing of the sprawling hotel. The suite was on the fifth floor, down a beautifully decorated hallway.
But the decor was the last thing on my mind when we arrived.
Neve was talking with Tyler outside the door.
In the most casual way I’d seen her dressed, in black denim that moulded to her hips and firm arse, and a scoop-necked fire-red T-shirt that clung to her breasts, with her blonde hair piled carelessly high on her head, she was every inch a delectable and fuckable sight.
A short sharp bite of acrid jealousy threw itself into the volatile cocktail swirling inside me as Tyler raised his hand to make a point and left it hovering near her cheek. Whatever he said made her laugh, the sound beautiful and sexy, just like the woman.
My stomach knotted uncomfortably. ‘Tyler, I think I saw your sister heading to the restaurant. Are you supposed to join her?’
He started, looking a little flustered as he glanced my way. ‘Uh...yeah.’
‘Best not keep her and the chef waiting.’
Tyler grimaced. ‘Sam’s intolerable when she’s hungry. But I’m used to it because she’s always hungry. I was just telling Neve—’
I interrupted. ‘Nothing that can’t wait. I have other business matters to attend to, so if you don’t mind?’
Tyler tensed. ‘You don’t want one of us around when you inspect the room?’ he asked Neve.
With one dismissive glance at me, she shook her head. ‘I’ll come find you in the morning to give you feedback. Go and enjoy your dinner.’
He summoned a smile. ‘Okay. Sure, no problem. We’ll...catch up tomorrow.’
I gave a tight nod and he left.
Neve turned to me, her face pinched and her eyes glaring. Somehow that eased the knot inside me. I was shallow enough to accept that was because her attention was on me.
Jesus. You’re bordering on pathetic, Mortimer.
‘Shall we?’ I suggested when she remained frozen in front of the suite.
‘Was that really necessary?’
I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t know what she was talking about. ‘Good evening to you too. And yes. It was.’
Her mouth dropped open.
I reached behind her and nudged the door open. ‘Close your mouth, darling. You’ll catch flies. Besides, I think I made my stance pretty clear last night.’
She stumbled backwards into the room, her gaze fixed on mine.
‘You didn’t exactly say the words.’
‘Well, I’m saying it now. I intend to be the guy who takes care of that ache between your legs. Is that bloody clear enough for you?’
‘I think—’
The rest of her response never came. Her gaze shifted away from mine, widened, and I lost her again. This time to the splendour of a suite transformed into a nineteenth-century masterpiece.
‘Oh, my God.’ Her voice was hushed. Reverent. Filled with the kind of pleasure that had filled my ears one long night two years ago and not for long enough last night.
I stepped inside, kicked the door shut and reluctantly dragged my gaze from her face to the room.
It was impressive. The attention to detail alone was exceptional.
‘Indeed. Not what I expected,’ I conceded.
She turned to face me. ‘Let me guess, you anticipated a French boudoir to be a clichéd blood red and black silk?’
I shrugged. ‘Isn’t that what our clients will expect?’
‘They’ll be required to fill in a questionnaire on their wants and desires but if they’re open to suggestions, why give them a tired old truism when they can have a fresh original?’
As she talked she wandered away from me, trailing her fingers over the heavy-silk-draped walls and gold brocade curtains. The mint-green and gold bedspread complemented the furniture right down to the gold bows holding back the filmy gold muslin material draping the four posts of the bed. When she fingered the fringe of an embroidered pillow, something hot and heavy thudded in my groin.
‘You like it, I take it.’
She glanced over her shoulder, unabashed pleasure in her eyes. ‘From the first glance it looks great, don’t you think?’
I nodded. ‘It’s impressive.’
Her gaze roved contemplatively around the room. ‘They’ve done a fantastic job, but...’ She paused, her gaze locking on mine. Slate-blue eyes fell to an alluring half mast, her lips parting to suck in a delicate breath.
‘But?’
‘But... I think to fully appreciate it, it needs to be truly experienced,’ she murmured sultrily.
Me. Pick me.
My hand itched to shoot up into the air like an eager schoolboy intent on impressing his hot teacher. I curbed the urge by shoving both hand
s into my pockets. ‘What exactly do you have in mind?’
She held up a long manicured index finger, strolled over to the bedside table and picked up the phone. ‘Whitney, can you reschedule my meeting with the spa managers for Monday? Great, thanks. And can you get catering to send a bottle of Dom Perignon to the Willow Suite, please? And canapés. I want everything in here in one hour. And I’m not to be disturbed. Thanks.’
She put the phone down, eyed me for a minute, then walked to an antique closet and pulled it open.
‘What are you doing?
She wistfully caressed the period costume hanging in the closet. ‘Right now, I’m heading back to my place to take a long bath, then I’m going to return to this room, and make full and, hopefully, rewarding use of it. If I’m fully satisfied, I intend to get my lawyer to expedite drafting the partnership papers with Sam and Tyler.’
I arrived in front of her without being aware I’d moved, slid my fingers around her nape and tilted her chin up. I was a little relieved she was letting me touch her after how we’d parted earlier. ‘Specifics, Neve. Tell me how you intend to test the room out.’
A wicked smile curved her lips. ‘Why? Imagination is a powerful thing. For example, I imagined a different life for myself than the one I was born into and look at me now,’ she murmured, almost to herself.
I slotted that little piece of info away because my more urgent question burned harder. ‘Stop playing games with me. Tell me.’ My gruff tone had everything to do with the erection tenting my pants.
She swayed towards me, her belly brushing my uncomfortable thickness. I smothered a groan as she mimicked my gesture and curled her hand around my nape to nudge my head down until our lips were a half-inch apart. ‘I’ll tell you this, Damian. Whatever I do it’ll be amazing, and it may or may not involve my favourite gadgets. But if you want to find out...’ She inhaled slowly.
God, she was a cock-tease. And I was fucking lapping it up. ‘Yes?’
‘Then be here at eight. Not a minute later or the door gets locked. Is that understood?’
It was another subtle dig at my tardiness to our first production meeting. ‘I’m so hard for you I can’t see straight. Your pupils are already dilated with the thought of being fucked hard and fast on every surface in this room. If you think anything’s going to keep me away from that door, think again.’ I brushed my lips over hers in a butterfly kiss—because anything else would’ve ignited the raging need coursing through me—and stepped back.
