We walked through a large doorway into a spacious hall that stretched both north and south. Well-designed, this house. She ignored what must’ve been the guest bedroom and bathroom on the north end and opened two massive double doors in the middle of the hallway into the master bedroom, but didn’t walk in.
“Here’s the master. The bathroom’s in there, next to the closet.” She waved a hand to the left of a California-king-sized bed.
Yeah . . . I liked that. A lot.
“As an architect, I think you’ll appreciate the office, even though it’s upside down,” she continued, closing the master doors and leading me to the far south end of the hall. With a hand on the knob, she spun around to me. “Remember . . . renovating. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, sugar. Let’s see it.” I nodded to the door.
She wasn’t exaggerating. As soon as that door opened, my inner designer went ape-shit. The room was medium-sized, but had expansive windows from the hip up on three sides, making it appear longer and more open. Where the window ended on the west wall sat a small loveseat with an antique coffee table in front of it, piled high with interior design magazines. Turning back to the windows, a desktop ran just under the sill on the east, south and west walls, which made for a wicked workspace, giving her a three-way view of the ocean. The large skylight above gave the whole space an uncluttered appearance. She was dead-on. It was the best fucking room in the house, and that was sayin’ somethin’.
“How far in are you with the renovations?” I asked.
She crossed her arms over her chest and squinted up at me. “I’ve been renovating for over a year now. I say ‘renovating,’ but really it’s been more thinking about how to renovate.”
I dropped my gaze to her mouth, and I didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath. Jesus, she was killing me. I’d deal with that later. Right now, I knew how I was going to repay her for helping me out with Bridge. “A year? Do you have an idea what you want?”
Her chest sank on a long exhale. “I don’t.” She looked up at me, hands on her hips. “I can’t see it. I want this room to have . . . balance. I spend most of my time in here, even in the mess, but I don’t have a clear vision yet. It’s a great space, though, right?”
“Tell you what. Since you won’t take money for looking at my sister’s novel, let me take a shot at designing something . . . trading services. If you like it, I’ll start as soon as I can.”
And it’ll give me a bitchin’ excuse to get time alone with you.
A small gasp escaped her lips. “Jaxx. Thank you for such a generous offer, but that’s too much. You’re already saving me tonight. We’re even.”
I shrugged it off like no big deal. “It’s what I do. It would give me a mental break from the industrial design for a firm in Arizona. I prefer freestyle.”
She stared up at me with huge eyes. “It’s too much—too generous. I know how busy you are. This would be too much to take on.”
I crossed my arms as far as my fucking jacket would allow and scanned the room. “Not really. It’s all here. Just needs a little sanding, moving around, maybe a tear-down on that west wall under the window, a few shelves, and a solid paint job.”
My dick twitched as her kissable mouth turned up into a gorgeous smile. “That’s it, huh? I’ve been poring over countless magazines for a year, and you take one look and you got it?”
“Yeah.” I nodded taking a last look around. “I think so. What do you say?”
She studied the room for a second and nodded. “You’re on, but I have to pay you. This is too much.”
I can think of a few ways we can go about repayment . . .
“No money. That’s the deal. You cover materials, and I’ll do the rest. Final offer.”
Gnawing on the inside corner of that damn lip, she nodded. “Okay. Deal.”
As she turned to leave the room, I reached out and grabbed her hand. Her entire body stiffened and she stared at my hand. The smile, there just seconds ago, was replaced with an expression I couldn’t define, but if I had to guess, I’d have said fear . . . and a whole lot of heat.
I loosened my grip, but still held on, running my thumb over her supersonic pulse. If she needed me to back off, I would, but I knew want when I fuckin’ saw it, so I was gambling.
“Valentina. Are you uncomfortable when I touch you? Be honest. You won’t offend me.”
She stared where we connected for a few seconds before meeting my eyes and shaking her head. “No. I’m okay.”
Thank Christ. “Then there’s something we should clear up.” As I moved closer, she moved her free hand to her throat once again. “When you get nervous or you start overthinking, you chew on the corner of your bottom lip.”
The hand at her throat now flew to her mouth and she squeezed her eyes shut.
I moved in front of her and gently removed her hand. “It’s not a bad thing, sugar. I say this because if I’m going to be here working with you on this, I can’t be held responsible for what I do if you keep making that lip swell.”
Wide eyes searched mine and her lips parted. In my head, invitation didn’t get much fuckin’ louder. The energy between us hummed. She ran the tip of her tongue over her swollen lip and I took a step closer to her, framing one side of her face with my hand. In what seemed an unconscious move, she let her eyelids close and pushed her cheek against my palm for a second.
Led Zeppelin’s Kashmir echoed down the long hallway and her eyes popped open.
Great fucking song. Shitty cock-blocking buzzkill. “Your phone?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered. “It’s probably the driver.”
Reluctantly, I let go of her and stepped back. “Nice ringtone. Go ahead.” I nodded down the hall. “I’m right behind you.”
“Thank you,” she blurted before hiking up that sexy as hell dress and shuffling down the hallway. The opening swayed with each step, teasing over the bottom of her spine. I closed the office door and readjusted my shit, then strolled down the hall to meet her at the front door.
This was gonna be one long-ass night.
15
Valentina
The warmth of Jaxxon’s hand as he helped me out of the car was an unexpected comfort. Bodies shuffled and scattered about as car after car pulled up to the entrance to the hotel. My skin prickled under my gown, and I couldn’t silence the non-stop pounding in my head. The mobs of people, the blaring horns, blinding lights—all of it marked downtown LA as my nightmares personified.
Hold it together. You have a pitch to deliver.
Jaxx linked my hand under his forearm and covered the top with his other palm, reminding me I wasn’t alone. In minutes, he’d become my grounding presence.
“Easy, sugar. Atme. It’ll help.” He chuckled as we walked toward the front doors.
“Breathe?” I stopped walking to look up at him.
He squeezed my hand and I gripped his arm tighter. “Yeah, sorry about that. I sometimes fall into the very few German words or phrases I know . . . habit.”
I shook my head, knowing I’d heard the word before . . . “Don’t be. It’s—it’s comforting. Thank you for doing this for me. I hate these events.”
I let him lead me into one of the openings of the hotel’s revolving glass door. He was so big we barely fit, so he pulled me in front of him, resting his hands on my shoulders.
“Shit, you really don’t like these things.” He tightened his grip as we entered the lobby, then linked my hand back under his arm. “You’re shaking like hell. You cold or just nerves?”
I gave a quick nod and swallowed hard. “Nerves. I’m, ah, not good in public spaces with lots of people. I know it’s ridiculous.” I had to seem an absolute head case to him.
“Not ridiculous. Anxiety usually has history. So let’s do this and get out. I can think of a better way to spend an evening with you.”
“Wh-what?” I stopped walking again.
He let out a hearty laugh and tugged me back up beside him. “Pull your hea
d out of the gutter, Miss Romance Editor. I meant hanging out somewhere more comfortable—but hey, if you’ve got your heart set on a more up-close-and-personal kind of comfortable, count me in.”
“Nice.” I bit back a smile. “You really are bad.”
“Sweetness, I’ve only given you the G-rated version of bad so far.”
“Toni!” someone yelled. It was Leigh, the only person besides Annie animated enough to scream across a hotel lobby.
Jaxxon turned us both around just in time to catch her shuffling toward us, part of her gown in hand so she didn’t trip. A huge smile spread across her face at the sight of Jaxx.
I guessed I’d better get used to Leigh’s reaction to him. I was probably going to see a lot of that tonight. “Jaxx.” I glanced up at him.
“Yeah, babe?”
“Everyone here knows me as Toni. For tonight, please call me Toni, okay?”
“Not a chance, but you’ll know it’s you I’m talking to.”
The tension in my shoulders strung tight. “Why are you so dead set against calling me by the name I go by? I don’t get it.”
“Sweetness, look at me.” He interlocked our fingers on his arm as I glared up at him. “After the past month, do you seriously want me to start calling you Toni?” His voice was soft, calm—he wasn’t joking with me.
To be honest, no. I’d miss the sexy way he said my name. I was stressing and taking it out on him. “No. Sorry.” My shoulders slumped. I was an ass. “Valentina’s fine. I’m nervous.”
“I know you are and don’t apologize. So, who’s the lunatic about to tackle you?”
“My editor-in-chief, my mentor, and the one who holds my leash.” I looked away from him just as Leigh reached us, but didn’t miss his raised eyebrow. “Long story.”
“Well, well, well! Where the fuck have you been hiding him? Goddamn. I’m Leigh.” She held out her hand.
Jaxxon shook it. “Leigh. It’s a pleasure,” he responded. All playfulness had left his voice, and a smooth-as-silk tenor replaced the lightheartedness I’d grown fond of. Business mode. And it was sexy as hell on him.
“Oh, my.” Leigh gawked. “Do you model?” She didn’t wait for him to answer and turned to me instead. “The man screams ‘book cover,’ am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong.” I glanced up at him. “Looking for a side job?”
He inclined his head and smiled at us. “Flattered, ladies, but I’m all booked up at work.”
Leigh put her hands on her hips and looked him up and down in a way I was dying to, but didn’t have the nerve. “Well, that’s a cryin’ shame. You’d make bank, darlin’.”
Jaxx genuinely laughed now. “I’m going to like you, Leigh.”
“Back ‘atcha, gorgeous. Now.” She turned to me. “You ready, my workaholic protégée? Tonight, you hook ‘em. They’re all here. I got a few drinks in them already, so they’re nice and lubed up for you.”
Heat spread throughout my body as Jaxxon leaned down to my ear. “I like her. A lot.”
The spearmint scent I now associated with him alone washed over me. Warmth spread down my neck and over my chest to pool between my legs. “I had no doubt.”
We followed Leigh through the lobby to the large ballroom at the end of the hotel.
In and out. Slow and easy. Breathe, damn it.
“Hey, you.” Jaxx stopped, putting some distance between us and Leigh. “Whatever’s about to go down in there, you got this. Just do your thing. And fuckin’ breathe, babe.” He kissed my temple and dropped a hand to the small of my back.
I had to stop myself from jumping into his arms. His presence—his huge, overwhelming, and protective presence—comforted me in a way I never thought I’d experience.
Irony at its best.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I admitted. “We’re a large house, with branches all over the U.S. The main office is in New York. The company Christmas party is usually in New York or LA though, so I guess I’m lucky it wound up here this year. It’s the one time other than the annual conference everyone gets together. It’s kind of a mandatory thing.” I leaned closer to him. “Mainly a chance for all the other editor-in-chiefs to kiss Mr. Carlyle’s ass and vie for his job when he retires, but he loves Leigh. She’s been his right hand for decades and he handpicked her. He’ll name her his successor, but it should be fun to watch.”
“Corporate ass-kissing in black tie attire—good times. But definitely not your deal.”
I loved he already knew that about me, though it really shouldn’t have made my stomach flip-flop—nor should it have made me want to kiss him right here in the middle of the ballroom.
He ran his thumb harder over the hollow of my back. “Hey, babe, that catty shit’s not why you’re here. Handle your business and we’ll bail ASAP.”
The breath I didn’t realize I was holding came barreling out. “God, yes.”
“Hey! Lovebirds. Move your asses. Tick-tock!” Leigh snapped ahead of us.
“Here we go,” I mumbled as we entered the massive entryway into the main dining room.
Clinking glasses echoed over indecipherable chatter. Leigh led us to a table up front and pointed at two seats with my name written in gold-embossed letters on small place cards set on china plates.
Jaxxon pulled out my chair, seating me first. He took the chair to my left, wrapping his hand over my knee under the table. The warmth of his huge palm on my bare skin spread throughout my body like the rush of a river.
I introduced Jaxxon and he fell into casual conversation with Leigh’s husband and one of the house owners on the other side of Leigh. I admired the effortlessness and confidence in which he eased into conversation with people he’d never met. I didn’t have that gift.
Mr. Carlyle, the main house publisher, sat to my right. My target. I took another deep breath and Jaxx moved his hand up a little higher, squeezing my upper thigh. My breath caught somewhere between my throat and actually exiting my mouth. His touch was . . . delicious. It was the only word that registered in my brain, and even though I was about to potentially risk my professional future, the main thought running through my head was how I wanted Jaxx to move that hand higher.
He glanced at me then down at my lap and leaned over. I put my hand over his and my ear near his mouth. “You good with this?” He interlaced our fingers and stroked my exposed skin through my dress’ slit with his thumb. A paradox of sensations flooded me—nerves and desire, fear and comfort. Whatever it was, the conflicting emotions kept me steady.
“I am.” I dropped my other hand, holding his with both of mine.
“Toni,” Mr. Carlyle greeted me. “A pleasure to see you again. I hear nothing but excellent reports from Leigh and our authors about the work you’ve done since taking on more responsibility. How are things going on your end? From what Leigh tells me, you should be handing off more to your assistants.”
“Very well, Mr. Carlyle, thank you. I enjoy editing and finding new talent, so it’s not a problem, and I keep them busy enough. I prefer a large workload. Have you by any chance seen our numbers for last quarter?”
“I have. I’m impressed. Your author list increases almost weekly, as have sales. If the work begins to pile up, I’ll get you more assistants. You just say the word.”
“Thank you. I’m pretty organized, and our romance team works well together, so it’s under control at the moment, but I’ll keep the offer in mind.” I honestly didn’t want more assistants because I knew the partners would start pressuring me about moving to New York, and that wasn’t an option. I was on top of my game. As long as I produced, showed my face at the LA office once a week, and didn’t fall behind, they’d leave me alone about relocating.
Leigh leaned over her husband at the table. “Mr. Carlyle, I’d like you to listen to a proposal we’ve been discussing. Toni’s been working on a project that I think could not only further improve sales for the house, but bring in an exciting new clientele and audience.”
Mr. Carlyle
nodded to Leigh and shifted his attention to me. “That’s why I’m here. My killer . . . ” He nodded at Leigh. “ . . . won’t stop hounding me about this top-secret project. Let’s hear it.”
The low chatter at the twelve-person table stopped.
The hairs at the nape of my neck rose as all eyes fell on me. I took a sip of my water, letting it coat my dry throat. That was why I’d asked to sit next to Mr. Carlyle—so I wasn’t addressing the entire fucking table!
A firm caress down my thigh to my knee stopped the quivering in my legs from spreading upwards. I glanced at Jaxxon.
He gave me a small nod.
All right. I had this.
I cleared my throat. “I consider it part of my job to watch the market, the new trends and the sales of other houses. I watch which authors are selling best and in what genres. Not only do I keep an eye on the top houses, I also watch the self-published best-selling author and title lists. Outside of historical romance, the top seller across the board is erotica, Mr. Carlyle.”
He leaned back in his chair, a stoic expression across his face. “We have an erotica line.”
“We have a watered-down erotica line,” I corrected him. “The authors I’m looking at and the novels selling off the digital shelves right now are dark. Dark romance. Erotica with a kink factor or some type of an edge.”
I knew if I could look at Jaxxon right now, I’d see the sexy grin that turned the butterflies in my stomach into frantic bees. From the pressure of his fingers, I’d have bet I just shocked the shit out him. I almost smirked, until movement on the other side of the table caught my attention.
Mr. Bryant, one of the house owners, bent forward. “Toni, we have a certain reputation at our house that has been intact for more than sixty years. We’ve been in the top five publishing houses in the U.S. for the vast majority of that time. Why would we take this risk?”
Phoenix (Flames & Ashes Book 1) Page 12
