by Stacy Finz
“I work, Daddy. Today we cut a big deal and the whole concept was my idea.” Of course she left out that the concept was throwing special events in a barn.
“I looked up Breyer Hotels too,” he huffed.
“And?” She was curious what he’d found.
“I could get you a job at a hotel company twice that size. Something like the Hilton Worldwide or Marriot International. They at least own hotels here in New York or Greenwich.”
“But I like my job, Daddy.”
“I would just hate to think that you’re staying there, in the middle of nowhere, to punish me for Royce,” he said. “I was wrong about that, Sam. I should’ve stood by you when you were having second thoughts.”
“I’m not punishing you, Daddy. I sincerely like it here. Besides, I’m vying for a new position.”
“What’s that?” he asked, and Sam described the VP position for Breyer Hotels.
She told him about Tracy, the gala, the Theodore, and how Nate was relying on her to mend the damage. For the first time she felt like George was actually listening. They didn’t resolve the fact that he wanted her to come home and she wanted to stay, but at least they were talking.
By the time Sam got to San Francisco, she was up to speed on the gala and where negotiations had collapsed between Tracy and the organizer, Fifi Reinhardt. And she had to admit that Fifi sounded like a handful. The Reinhardts were wealthy West Coast philanthropists who had made their money in real estate. They weren’t on the same social rung as the Dunsburys, so Sam had never met the Reinhardts personally. Still, she knew their ilk well.
She had some ideas on how to smooth Fifi’s ruffled feathers, but it would take some compromise. From Sam’s experience, people like Fifi didn’t like to compromise.
True to Nate’s word, he’d put her in the same suite she’d had before. This time, instead of the basket, a large gift box tied in a big bow sat on the coffee table. Much to her delight it was filled with adorable items from the Theodore gift shop: a hoodie with the hotel’s logo, a San Francisco Giants baseball cap, a blingy nightshirt depicting the Golden Gate Bridge, a pair of furry slippers, a plush Theodore spa robe, and an industrial-sized container of aspirin with a note from Nate that read, “You’ll need this.”
Cute.
She called the front desk and asked that Nate be paged, as per his instructions, and ten minutes later he rang her room. “Thanks for the gifts,” she said.
“You make this happen and I’ll give you the gift shop.”
“I’ll do my best,” she said.
“I thought we could work through dinner in my suite. We could get room service or have one of the hotel restaurants send up food.”
“Sounds good.”
They agreed to meet in an hour, giving her time to unpack and freshen up. She dressed in a skirt and blouse, not sure how professional she should be or whether others would be attending the meeting. But when she got to Nate’s suite just down the hall, he was in jeans and a T-shirt.
“My assistant was supposed to be here, but she had an emergency at home,” he said.
“I hope everything’s okay.”
“Her refrigerator went out and her husband is out of town. Maybe we should take this downstairs to one of the meeting rooms?”
“Why?” she asked, taking stock of the suite, which was as nice as hers but not particularly homey. “It’s just the two of us.”
“Precisely.” He homed in on her skirt and blouse and then higher to her lips, where his eyes seemed to linger.
She cocked a brow. “Afraid for your virtue?”
“Nope. I’m afraid for yours, so stay on that side of the couch.”
“You want me to get some tape and put a line down the middle?”
He laughed. “Food’s on its way, smart mouth.”
She sat down and tugged down her skirt, which had hiked up. When she looked up, he was staring at her legs, but quickly turned his head. Luckily, the awkward moment was interrupted by a knock on the door and someone announcing room service.
“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got a little bit of everything,” Nate said while the attendant rolled in a table covered in dishes.
“I can see that,” Sam said, and watched Nate tip the guy before he left.
She lifted a few of the silver domes and checked out the offerings. Everything looked delicious, including Nate, who’d dragged a couple of chairs to the table. He’d evidently taken a shower before she’d gotten there, because his hair was still damp and curled at the back of his neck. His shirt, stretched across finely honed muscles, made her mouth water. And he smelled so good, like a combination of citrusy aftershave and soap, that she wanted to nuzzle against his neck.
Instead, she pointed at the plates and asked, “Which is yours?”
“Whatever you don’t want.”
“There’s enough here for us to have some of everything.” She took it upon herself to serve them both plates of salmon, steak, wild rice, fried artichokes, and French fries. “We’ll have the rest for breakfast.” After the words left her mouth, she realized how they must’ve sounded and felt herself turn red.
Nate raised his brows. She couldn’t tell whether he was amused or thought she was being overly suggestive.
Between bites and back to business, Nate asked, “So what’s your game plan with Fifi?”
“The truth: I’m planning to kiss her derrière and give her what she wants.” Sam cut into her steak, which had been prepared just the way she liked it. Medium rare.
“There’s no way in hell we’re getting Thomas Keller. And as much as I want this event, I don’t want to go into the hole putting it on.”
“I know that,” Sam said. “Have a little faith, Nate.”
“Have a little faith.” Nate raised his face to the ceiling as if he was talking to the heavens. “Wait until you meet our chef, Richard, and tell me that. He’s as high-maintenance as Fifi. If finding a good executive chef weren’t so difficult, I would’ve fired his ass months ago.”
“It’ll be fine, Nate. I’m good with these kinds of people.”
“I know.” He stood up and paced the room.
“Do you like living here?” she asked.
“Yeah. What’s not to like?”
She got to her feet and joined him at the window. “You’ve got great views, but it seems . . . impersonal.”
“That’s what my Nugget house is for. I like the pictures you put on the walls, by the way. Especially the ones of Lilly.”
“I wasn’t sure,” she said. “I felt like I might’ve been overstepping, so I’m glad you like them.”
He went back to the couch. “I have to be careful about not intruding on their family too much, but the pictures are okay . . . I think.”
“I guess there’s no protocol on these things. You just have to play it by ear.”
“Nope,” he said. “There’s no guidebook to being the biological father of another couple’s child when said couple also happen to be your best friends.”
“You seem to be handling it rather well. It’s a very beautiful thing you did for Sophie and Mariah, Nate.” When he had his own babies, he’d be a good father.
She grabbed the folder she’d brought with her and moved to the loveseat across from him. “I was able to get ahold of the American Society of Hematology and figure out where Tracy left off with their conference. Same with the Gleasons’ anniversary party. We’re pretty much up to speed on everything now.”
“Except for the opera party.” He was back to gazing at her lips.
“Mm-hmm.” She tried to focus, but kept thinking about his kisses, about how good they felt. If she closed her eyes she could taste him. “You sure you don’t want to attend the meeting with Fifi and me tomorrow?”
“Yep. You’re the one she wants to meet.”
That seemed odd to Sam, since Nate was top dog. But she enjoyed a spark of pride at his sudden trust in her. Or maybe the spark was lust, because she couldn’t help but wond
er what he’d look like with his shirt off. Ripped, for sure. And a good bet, given the nice masculine smattering of hair on his forearms, that there would be a trail running down his chest. She felt hot just thinking about it.
Nate tilted his head sideways and tried to get her attention. “What are you doing?”
Uh-oh, she must’ve been staring. Hopefully she didn’t have drool on her chin. “Nothing. Just thinking about the meeting.”
“Is that all you’re thinking about?” The side of his mouth quirked up.
“Of course.” She tried to act like she couldn’t imagine what else he could be talking about.
“Liar.” This time he gave her a full-blown grin, and she noticed the five o’clock shadow on his face.
He must’ve forgone shaving when he’d showered. She briefly fantasized about how his bristle would feel rubbing over her entire body before reining herself in.
Nate got up to get a drink of water and stood behind the counter in his tiny kitchenette. “Maybe we ought to table this for tomorrow morning.”
“Why? I wanted to go over some ideas with you about my presentation for Fifi.”
“You know why. You’ve been sitting there for the last ten minutes, distracted. And I passed distracted a long time ago.” His eyes moved down to his southern region and he smiled. “That’s why I’m standing back here.”
“Fine.” She stood up and got her purse. “If you can’t control yourself, I’ll leave.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea. You won’t mind if I don’t walk you out, will you?”
“You’re pathetic, Nate.”
“Not pathetic, just a man.”
She didn’t know what possessed her, but she went right up to him, pressed tightly against his body and kissed him. “Is this a problem for you, boss?”
He held his arms up in the air. “Not touching you back.”
She snugged up against his hardness, taking the time to watch his expression turn tortured. “How’s this?”
“Good. Stay there as long as you like. But I’m still not touching you back.”
“How about now?” She undid his belt.
“All good.” But his voice sounded strained.
She pulled his jeans down and stroked him over his shorts. His eyes shut and she could feel him shudder. “Still good?”
“Never better,” he said on a moan. “But still not touching you.”
She pushed away from him and unbuttoned her blouse until it hung open, revealing her lacy demi-cup bra. His eyes heated as they wandered over her breasts and Sam could’ve sworn that he licked his lips.
“Shit!” Nate leaned his head back into a cabinet and squeezed his eyes closed. “I give up.” He hitched up his pants, grabbed her around the waist, tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and carried her into his bedroom, where he dropped her in the middle of his Calking bed. “You up for this? Because if you’re not, I suggest you go, now. Fast.”
She stared up at him, a little smile playing on her lips. “I’m good.”
“Honey, I’m planning to make you a whole lot better than good.” He came down on top of her and kissed her until she thought she’d die from the pleasure of it.
She rubbed against him, wanting to twine her legs around his waist so he could nestle himself inside the part of her that ached for him, but her skirt was too tight. The damn thing needed to come off, but she didn’t want to stop kissing him to make that happen.
Nate, on the other hand, was a multitasker, because he managed to get her blouse off and her bra unhooked without ever leaving her mouth.
“Mmm,” he hummed as he fondled her breasts and rubbed her nipples with his thumb. “These are good.” He lifted up to examine them. “They’re big.”
Sam reached for the blanket.
“What? You’re suddenly shy?”
“No,” she said, and squirmed to get under the covers.
“Hey.” He pressed down on the top of the quilt so she couldn’t pull them over her. “Don’t. I like looking at you. You’re beautiful.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I don’t have to, but it’s the truth. Come on, you’ve got to know how stunning you are. It’s not just me, everybody thinks so.”
“Not everybody. But thank you.”
He kissed her again, letting his hands wander reverently over her breasts and belly. “So pretty,” Nate whispered. “Let’s get this off too.”
She lifted her butt up so that Nate could unzip the back of her skirt and tug it down her legs. He tossed it across the room and all she could think was thank goodness she’d worn her good underwear. Lace boy-shorts.
“What about you?” she asked.
Nate pulled his T-shirt over his head and Sam sucked in a breath at the sheer perfection of him. He was everything she’d thought he would be and more. Broad shoulders, solid chest, and a set of abs that made her mouth go dry. Whorls of dark hair sprinkled his chest, forming a strip down his stomach that disappeared underneath the waistband of his pants.
She pulled on his jeans until he finally arched up and shucked them off. “Happy now?”
“Mm-hmm.” She kissed his neck and his chin and his lips while he played with the lace of her bottoms, dipping his hand underneath the elastic band to feel her wetness. “Oh God.”
He scraped the lobe of her ear with his teeth. “You feel good, Sam. So ready for me.”
She slipped her hand inside his shorts and wrapped her fingers around his thickness. He was long and unbelievably hard.
He put his hand over hers to hold it still. “Keep that up and I’ll embarrass myself.”
“I want you, Nate.”
“I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you.”
She pushed up on both elbows. “You hated me on sight.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t want you.” Nate pushed her back down and rolled on top of her, putting his weight on both hands as he rubbed against her. “These have to go.” He pulled her panties down and used his foot to kick them away, then yanked off his own, wedging himself between her legs.
She moaned with pleasure, pumping and rubbing until she thought she’d go mad.
From a drawer next to the bed, he grabbed a couple of foil packets and put them on top of the nightstand, then kissed his way down the length of her body, licking her bellybutton, the insides of her thighs, delving into the place that quivered for him.
“Nate,” she whimpered.
“Hmm?”
“Please.”
“Please what?”
She tried to roll on top of him, but he held her down and said, “Let me enjoy you. We’ve got all night.”
Nothing had ever felt this good. Not even those wonderful starlit nights at the summerhouse, when she’d been impossibly young and in love. Nate continued to lave her in kisses and explore her body with his hands and mouth until she thought she would explode. And finally, finding it impossible to wait any longer, she did.
“Good?” Nate moved over her as he tore the wrapper off a condom and rolled it down the length of him.
“God, yes.” She pulled him closer, wanting him inside of her. But when he entered her, she jolted; his size a little overwhelming at first.
“You okay?” He stopped, giving her time to grow accustomed to him, then slowly moving inside of her, making her feel like liquid fire ready to combust.
“Mmm,” she whimpered. “More.”
He gave her so much more that by the time they fell asleep it was dawn. And when she opened her eyes it was bright outside and he was gone. Just a note on his empty pillow.
I had an early meeting and didn’t
want to wake you. Break a leg with Fifi.
Thanks
Nate
That was the extent of the note. No “Last night was great,” or “Sam, you were the best sex I’ve ever had,” or “Be mine forever.” Not even so much as “Hey, let’s have dinner later.” Just “Thanks.” And was that thanks for transcen
dent sex, or thanks for meeting with Fifi? Sam had no idea, but chided herself for being such a girl about it.
They had sex. Sex that she had initiated. They’d been dancing around it for months now and had finally nipped it in the bud. No big deal.
“So why are you anguishing over a perfectly innocuous note?” she asked herself aloud, shoved on her clothes, and made sure the coast was clear before making a run down the hall for her room.
It would all be fine, she told herself. They’d make a joke of it. Ha, ha, can you believe we actually did that?
But as Sam stepped into the shower, she decided that sleeping with Nate was possibly the stupidest thing she’d ever done.
Because now she liked him—like really, really liked him. And the best he had to offer was to tell her to break a leg.
Chapter 19
Nate couldn’t care less about San Francisco’s occupancy rates. Well, actually he did care about it, because it could make or break his business. He just didn’t care about it at this very moment. Not when he’d had to leave a warm and willing woman in his bed to listen to someone from the city’s travel board drone on about tourism and what it meant to the city.
Sam. Wow.
He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that they’d done it. If he wanted to level with himself, they’d been working up to last night for some time. Flirting. Kissing. Throwing barbs at each other like school kids with a crush.
In bed, she’d been something else. She may have started out as the aggressor, but she’d ultimately let him run the show. Call him a caveman, but he liked taking the lead, making her feel so good that she lost her mind, because it made him lose his.
The whole night had been like that. Total sweet insanity. And if he thought she looked hot in clothes, she was a supermodel out of them. Weird how she had gotten insecure about her body, which did it for him like no other woman’s body did. It made him wonder why. But then again, women could be strange about being naked.
After the meeting, Nate caught a Lyft taxi back to the hotel. He thought about popping in on Sam’s conference with Fifi, but decided that he’d leave her to it. When he got to Breyer’s corporate offices, his assistant, Lorna, waylaid him at the door.
