by Alison Kent
“Yes, but—“
“It may be what you want, but it’s not what you need,” he argued, and she began to be very angry with him. How dare he presume to tell her what she needed? How long had he known her? An hour? “Your heart was telling you, tonight, to come here and get rid of your insensitive, uncaring boyfriend, even if that meant risking your job at the same time.”
She shook her head vigorously. “You don’t understand—“
“Yes, I do. Better than you think. I believe, deep down, you wanted to dump the guy and get the job dumped for you.” He pressed her hands tighter. “I think you knew before you got here that you wanted out. And guess what? You ran smack-dab into the one guy who was offering you a free trip, nonstop, right where you wanted to go.”
“I think you are making a lot of assumptions based on what you want,” she argued, snatching her hands back, placing them on the edge of the bar, and holding herself very straight and still. “Yes, I wanted to lose my boyfr—” She stopped and started again. “My fiancé.”
Trey reached for her hand, but she pulled it away before he could catch it.
“I was reading this book before I came. Blissfully Single. Excellent book,” she declared, really starting to work up a head of steam, to think straight, finally. “All about how women don’t need men, except for sex and fun, how marriage is a trap and a drain. I totally saw some of my own patterns in that book. And I think I saw tonight, for sure, that Carter was not someone I wanted to spend my life with, and that I had made a mistake.”
She pushed herself away from the bar, rising from the stool. “And, yes, I knew that there was a possibility that could make things uncomfortable for me here at the hotel, and that maybe I would be looking for a new job. But it never meant, for even one second, that I would consider throwing away my whole life to run away with some juvenile delinquent nut-job following some misguided, immature dream to run a beatnik bookstore.”
There was a long pause. “Flattering portrait you’ve painted of me.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you ought to consider this.” She lifted her chin. “Instead of tucking me in your luggage and taking me on a one-way flight to Café Cliché, maybe, if you’re so interested and all, you ought to give up Paris and stay here with me.”
Chapter Ten
Well, that hadn’t gone well, had it?
She’d slapped him by accident, she’d kissed him on purpose, he’d slugged her fiancé, she’d lied to her boss, he’d asked her to go to Paris with him on a whim and then, to top it off, she’d called him immature and basically asked him to stay in Chicago and be her boy-toy, although she wasn’t entirely sure she was serious when she asked it. She could’ve been trying to insult him. Not that it mattered. Trey had stalked away from the bar and told her he had better things to do with the dwindling moments of his New Year’s Eve than talk to a stick-in-the-mud princess.
Stick-in-the-mud princess. Ha! Was that the best he could come up with?
Meanwhile, all of this had taken place while she still had a fiancé somewhere at this same party. A fiancé she really, really needed to break up with sooner or later.
“Susannah?” someone behind her asked in an acid tone.
Speak of the devil. She turned. “Hello, Carter. How are you?”
“Not well.” He looked a little fussy, that was for sure. “My jaw is throbbing,” he said tersely, and she could see the big bruise on his cheek. “That guy who was hanging all over you hit me, remember? Now if you’ll just tell me where he is, I will go pound the snot out of him and get this over with.”
If she were to be honest, she thought Trey could take Carter down nine times out of ten, even if Carter had backup and a baseball bat, but she didn’t want to say that and make things worse than they already were. If that was even possible.
“Carter, I…” She had no excuse. “I’m sorry he hit you. I actually planned to slap you myself, because I was angry that you ditched me. On New Year’s Eve. When I looked really, really good.”
“Let’s not start that again,” he snapped.
She glowered at him. “Okay, let’s make this simple. Again, I am sorry that he punched you out of some misguided attempt to impress me. The man has an emotional maturity level of, like, three. Men. Jeez Louise.” But she was getting off-track again. She took a calming sip of champagne before she went on. “This really has nothing to do with him, okay? I need you to know, before one more second of my New Year ticks off, that we are not—“
“Enough!” he roared. “Tell me where he is! I called the cops. They’re on their way. Assault, battery, attempted murder—your boyfriend is going down, Susannah! No one makes a fool of Carter Lyons and lives to tell about it!”
No one except Carter Lyons, apparently. “You called the cops?” she repeated. “For a little scuffle at a New Year’s party? Like they don’t have enough to do with people shooting guns off at midnight and setting off illegal fireworks and potentially burning down half the city?”
“Where is he, Susannah?” he asked again, gritting his teeth so hard his whole jaw looked out of whack.
“I don’t know.” She scooted off the bar stool and slipped past Carter with all due haste. “But I’m going to find him and get him out of here before you get your grubby mitts on him.” She turned back. “I’m thinking of making him my boy-toy, you know. I don’t want you messing up his pretty face.”
Carter lunged, and she took off as fast as her red stilettos would carry her.
Chapter Eleven
Susannah was at her wit’s end when she finally found Trey, standing alone on the balcony, staring off at the skyline. He said wistfully, “You can just see the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier if you twist your head and squint.”
It was freezing cold out here. Chicago in January was not a place to be standing on balconies. Below them, revelers were shrieking and screaming and drivers were laying hard on their horns. Happy New Year, she thought to herself. Happy freakin’ New Year. Your life is a mess, you may end up losing your fiancé and your job and catching your death of cold in one fell swoop, and all because you chose to save the life of this insane man rather than think of your own well-being.
But she didn’t have time for self-righteousness. Quickly, she gave Trey her spiel. “Carter is on the rampage, and we need to get you out of here.”
“Yeah, right.” Trey stayed where he was.
“He’s looking for you. He’s really mad that you hit him.” She hugged herself, trying vainly to stay warm in her skimpy dress, as she ventured another step out onto the balcony. “Please, Trey. I know you can take him in a fight, but you’re on a balcony, and he could get lucky and knock you over or something. Plus he told me he called the police. So let’s go in, let’s find your coat, and let me get you out of here.”
Trey edged around, propping his arms on the railing behind him. “Let you get me out of here? Does that mean we leave together? As in, you’ve changed your mind and decided to come with me?”
“To Paris? Or out of the building before you get arrested?” she asked in a dark tone. “Neither. Although I might come with you as far as the street if you’re lucky.” She felt like stamping her foot at how stubborn and ridiculous he was being. “Come on, Trey. Let me help you. You need to leave. Now.”
“Just curious, but why do you care?”
“Trey, listen to me,” she said carefully, slowly, trying to be persuasive. “He called the police. If you get arrested, you won’t be on your flight to Paris tomorrow, will you?”
“And this matters to you?”
“Well, if we get you safely on your plane, at least you’re not around here, driving me crazy and messing up my life, are you?” She started to shiver, and she rubbed her bare arms with her hands. “And if you come in off the balcony, I can go in, too, drink about ten Irish coffees and hopefully defrost from my current Popsicle state, which would be a real bonus.”
That declaration didn’t move him in the least. “How interesting. I can see the ring f
rom here. So you haven’t broken the engagement yet, have you?”
“I tried,” she said softly. “He cut me off. He was more interested in telling me all the ways he wanted to pummel you.”
Trey’s heated gaze held her steady, almost enough to warm her up in the frigid air. He really did have the most beautiful blue eyes. “He wants to pummel me for kissing you?”
“Not hardly.” She let out a short, unpleasant laugh. “He wants to pummel you for punching him in the nose.”
“It was the jaw.”
“Right.” She hopped and jiggled a little, trying not to let her teeth chatter. She failed.
“Susannah, you’re not dressed for this. Go in, will you?” he ordered.
But she shook her head. “Not without you.”
Chapter Twelve
“Why haven’t you given Carter back his ring yet?” he demanded. “Why are you still dragging your feet about this breakup?”
Susannah had about had it with men and their idiotic need to tell her what to do. “I can’t get the stupid ring off my finger, okay? Believe me, I have every intention of very calmly handing it over as soon as I get it off. Or if you want to go for it right now, maybe we can throw it over the balcony.” She held up her hand. “Maybe the cold will shrink my finger enough, you think?”
“Worth a try.”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she snapped, “but I have come to some major conclusions about that man tonight, and one of them is that he doesn’t care or notice what I am or who I am or what I want. It’s all about Carter. He never even told me I looked nice tonight, do you believe it?” She spread her bare arms, ignoring the cold. “I know I’m a little wrecked by now, but when I first got here, I looked amazing.”
He smiled. “Yes, you did.” His gaze flickered over her, lingering on her breasts, and she knew her nipples were peaking in the cold. She tried to remember to breathe, but the chilled air couldn’t seem to make it to her lungs. Trey’s voice was rough and husky when he said, “You still do look amazing. And the fact that Carter didn’t notice? It makes me glad I punched him in the nose.”
She smiled back, crossing her arms, shivering again, and not from the cold. “It was the jaw.”
“And you’re still not dressed to be out here.” He crossed to her in about a second flat, pulling her into his arms, gathering her close and trying to wrap his jacket around her, sighing with frustration and annoyance as he held her and rested his head against her hair. “Susannah, you keep calling me nuts, but you know, I’m not the one running out on the balcony wearing nothing but a dress that’s so sheer you can see through it.”
“Will you come in now?” she asked through seriously chattering teeth. “Will you leave the party so I can know for sure you’re okay and Carter didn’t have you arrested?”
“No.” He shrugged out of his jacket, draped it over her shoulders, and then slipped his hands inside it, one hand skimming the bare skin at the small of her back, where the red dress swooped so low, and the other sliding up in front, cupping her breast where her nipple pushed against the slippery silk, taut and rigid in the freezing air.
She trembled, pressing into his hand, offering herself more fully to his fingers. The hand at her back dipped below the edge of her dress, tracing the line all the way down, dancing under the fabric, exploring the curves of her bottom
“I guess you don’t wear white cotton undies,” he murmured, sliding his thumb under the delicate string of her thong panties, pulling the ribbon enough to make her flush with even more heat and desire.
Lord, this was incredible.
It was so cold, so unbearably cold, and yet she was melting from the inside out. She had never wanted a man as much as she wanted Trey, now.
“Come in with me,” she breathed, grazing his lips with hers. “Please?”
Chapter Thirteen
Bending closer, Trey covered her mouth completely, refusing at first to actually meet her lips or complete the kiss, just hovering there, driving her mad. But then he plunged in, branding her with his whole mouth, his tongue swirling around hers, tasting her, warming her, his kiss slick and deep and delicious.
Far more intoxicating than any Irish coffee. “Come inside,” she tried again, backing up, trying to tug him with her, unwilling to lose the connection between them for even a second.
“Where can we go to be alone?” he whispered, and she knew exactly what he was asking.
“There are bedrooms in the back,” she offered, feverishly running through the floor plan in her mind. “I give tours of this place. I know every nook and cranny. Like the butler’s pantry. No one knows about that. No one would bother us. Or we could go downstairs and get a key, to a room of our own.” Trying to keep a clear head and not be too undone by champagne and the nearness of Trey, she sent him a speculative, hopeful glance. “Or would getting a room take too long?”
Was she as crazy as Trey? Sensible Susannah Quincy ought to be the last person trying to find a quick lovers’ hideaway at the company New Year’s party. And yet it seemed so impossible to resist the idea of being alone with Trey.
“We can find something,” Trey murmured, pressing his lips into the slope of her neck, breathing into her ear, sparking terrible hunger and desire all over again. She trembled against him, but he pushed her back through the door, into the party, her hand still clasped in his, his jacket still over her shoulders.
“Be careful,” she reminded him, pitching her voice low and secretive. “The cops could be here by now, looking for you. Oh, god. Did you see Carter?” She tipped her head into his to hide both their faces. “He’s over by the grand piano. Do you think he saw us?”
Trey held her securely against him. “No. And I don’t think he called the cops, either. But I do see hotel security blocking the elevator. I guess we’re not leaving that way, are we?”
Susannah suppressed the need to giggle. Now was not the time for giggling. And yet it was kind of funny. Staid, responsible Susannah Quincy, ducking her head and trying not to look suspicious so she and her illicit lover could avoid the cops. What was the world coming to?
“If we skirt around the outside,” she whispered, “I think we can get into the back rooms that no one uses. We could, um…” She licked her lip. “We could hide out there for a while, till Carter gets tired of looking for us.”
“Hide out?” They both knew exactly what she meant, and it had nothing to do with hiding. It had to do with what they’d been practicing on the balcony, only with more steam and a lot less clothing. He kissed her, quick, and then navigated a stealthy path through the thickest parts of the crowd.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, they reached the fringe of the party. One more turn and they were all alone in the dark, quiet, empty part of the penthouse. Susannah released a pent-up breath, but her body still tingled with anticipation.
Pulling her past the butler’s pantry and the coat room, he propelled her instead into a beautiful little powder room. Safely inside, behind a locked door, Susannah let his jacket slip off her arms, walking straight into his arms. He quickly pushed her up against the sink, trapping her boldly with his body, and her eyes widened. Whoa. He was a man in a hurry. His fervor both frightened and excited her, and she reached for the front of his shirt.
But he grabbed her left hand, holding it up in the air between them. “Did you really think,” he growled, “that I would make love to you while you’re still wearing another man’s ring?”
Chapter Fourteen
“Trey, what are you doing?” she demanded, as he stuck her left hand under the gold faucet and turned on the water. It struck her again how stupid men could be. And so ridiculously territorial.
“I’m getting this ring off.” He interrupted his mission long enough to kiss her fiercely, framing her face with his wet hands, but then set back to work, soaping her finger, sliding the ring back and forth.
She could only look on in complete shock. She’d thought he was as turned on as she was,
as desperate to find a place to be alone. But, no! It wasn’t her clothes he wanted to get off. It was her engagement ring!
“Got it!” he exclaimed in triumph, holding the diamond ring up under her eyes.
“Are you happy now?” Susannah balanced against the marble edge of the vanity, staring down at her naked finger. Her hand felt weird without the weight of Carter’s ring, and yet a part of her also felt relieved to be rid of it. Relieved, bereft, happy and sad, success and failure. All at the same time.
Trey hesitated. “What should I do with the ring?”
“I don’t care. Throw it in the wastebasket. Leave it on the sink.” She shoved away from the vanity, moving toward the door. “I think it’s worth a few bucks, so you could always stick it in your pocket now and sell it on eBay later. Maybe I was right in the first place, and you were only coming on to me to get to my jewelry.”
“Susannah, it’s yours,” he said awkwardly, pressing it into her hand. “Maybe you should give it back to Carter.” His voice dropped down into huskier range, and he settled his arms around her from behind, rubbing his jaw against the top of her head. “The way you look, the way you smell, the way you feel,” he whispered roughly, “I’m starting to feel sorry for the guy who’s losing you.”
She steeled herself, angry with him, unwilling to give in so easily. But his voice tickled her hair and ruffled her nerves, and the rock-hard feel of his embrace was so very welcome. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she managed to say, reaching for the doorknob. “The two of us, sneaking off to…” She let her voice trail off, not quite sure she wanted to make it concrete by putting it into words.
