The Player (Rouge Passion #1)

by J. D. Chase

‘Think that one through, Red,’ he murmured. ‘If I did, what would happen next?’

  She smiled. ‘I’m so confident that you’re way off the mark with whatever it is you believe I’m thinking, that I think you’d storm back into your office as I laughed and mocked you. And then you’d sulk and probably try to make my life hell until you felt better.’

  She saw the muscles in his jaw twitch before he leaned forward, almost closing the gap between them and cloaking them with his unique intensity. She wanted to swallow but her mouth was dry. She wanted to back off but she couldn’t let him win. She’d upped the ante first; he was only raising his game to meet hers.

  ‘So I’m useless at knowing what you’re thinking but you’re confident you can predict my next move? Interesting . . .’ His voice was barely a whisper yet he still sounded cocky.

  ‘That’s right,’ she murmured, focusing more on those ravenous eyes than his words. His pupils were almost fully dilated and they seemed to be drawing her in. Oh my God, they are drawing me in . . . or is he getting closer?

  His lips pressed against hers and, almost before she could register what was happening, his hands wove into her hair and she felt her lips open at the insistence of his tongue. Shock and indignation raged through her and she tried to pull away, but his hands held her fast as his mouth tortured hers. She thrust her hands against his chest in order to push him away but at that moment, his kiss became soft, tender even, and he gave a low moan. Something in that sound called to her and she felt herself weakening . . . then responding to his slow, almost reverent kiss.

  Her libido woke from its slumber like a phoenix rising from cold, undisturbed ashes and she suddenly wanted it. Badly. She took the initiative, her hand slipping around the back of his neck as she deepened the kiss, devouring his mouth with her tongue. Fuck! This man can kiss! It felt like he was making love to her mouth with his tongue and it was intoxicating. She didn’t know what would happen next, she just knew she didn’t want that kiss to end.

  The shrill sound of the telephone rang out, making her start. She sprang back and they faced each other, both visibly shocked by what had just happened. She reached for the phone but it stopped as she placed her hand on it.

  Xander stood and walked back to his office, pausing at the door to throw casually over his shoulder, ‘Well, Red, I doubt you predicted that.’

  Isla stared at the closed door, her fingers pressed to her bruised lips, wondering whether he’d done that deliberately to take the situation from stalemate to checkmate. But she’d seen the look on his face when they’d parted. The connection between them in that kiss had taken him by surprise too.

  She rounded her desk and slumped in her chair. She attempted to concentrate on the vast array of purchase orders that had been requested from the various department heads but her mind kept straying. What am I doing playing around with my boss? Is that what I’m doing? She certainly hadn’t intended to. Mixing business and pleasure had burned her badly in the past. She knew it was never a good idea. And not only was he her boss, he was probably the most irritating man she’d ever met. Nobody pushed her buttons like he did. Never before had she found herself having to carefully choose her every word and plan each move as well as watching out for his. Moves? – that made it sound premeditated. She recalled his flirtation with Belinda and her realisation that he was most likely a player. But why didn’t he just flirt like that with her? Maybe it’s because he knows that wouldn’t work with me . . .

  ‘Oh shut up!’ she muttered, and spent the next ten minutes wondering whether chastising herself was a sign that she was losing her mind. Even if she wasn’t already, she had a feeling that if she continued to tangle with Xander, she quite probably would. She resolved to stay away from him and the stupid games he played. From now on, she’d ignore any provocation and simply get on with her job. That’s what she was there for, after all. Paying the mortgage on her flat and gaining valuable employment experience to broaden her horizons . . . that’s what was important.

  She settled and managed to query or authorize the pile of purchase orders, relieved that Xander hadn’t made an appearance. It was remarkably quiet next door when she decided to pop back to see Dean and, if the bar was as quiet as it usually was at lunchtime, eating her bowl of salad that she’d brought from home as she chatted.

  When she entered the bar, Dean was chatting to Nadine. She soon wished she’d made other plans for lunch as the topic of conversation was their ‘esteemed’ new leader. Nadine was enthralled by him, that much was clear, and she was pumping Dean for more information. Isla couldn’t understand why – as far as she knew, Dean knew less about him than she did, and she knew almost nothing. But then, from the knowing look on Nadine’s face when she said, ‘I’ll catch up with you later. Remember what I said. Oh hi, Isla. I was just checking something with Dean,’ it was all too clear. Nadine was trying to get Dean to find out about Xander from her, and then report back. She shook her head when Dean asked why she was rolling her eyes, deciding that it wasn’t worth explaining.

  Then he nudged her and said, ‘Come on then, what did the big bad wolf say when you finally strolled into his office late? I can see he didn’t decide to have you for breakfast, since you’re standing here unharmed.’

  Inwardly grimacing at his choice of words, she shrugged, saying, ‘He was waiting in my office. He just looked as pissed as he usually does. No biggie.’

  ‘Really? That’s it? Wow, I thought he’d jump down your throat at least!’

  No but his tongue nearly did! She shrugged again and opened her salad.

  She picked at her food as Dean chatted away about his ideas for increasing patronage in the bar that he planned to put to Xander. However, since Xander had been curt and clipped with him at best, he thought that maybe she should raise them for him. Isla almost suggested that he ask Belinda or Nadine to do it instead. Not only would they relish the opportunity of spending time in Xander’s company, but he seemed to be friendly and approachable where they were concerned. But she doubted that either of them would be capable of stopping flirting long enough to put forward any sensible propositions so she agreed. Then she noticed the time and reluctantly headed back into the reception lobby on her way back to her office.

  ‘Just the person!’ Oh God. Bobbi! No doubt exchanging gossip with her sidekick Barbie, and Derek, the concierge.

  Isla forced a bright smile on her face and called back, ‘Hey, Bobbi. What can I do for you?’

  Bobbi’s shrill tone echoed off the walls as she cried, ‘You can tell us what the hell was going on upstairs between you and Mr Hotness himself. I can tell you what it looked like but you know me, I’m not one to gossip.’

  Resisting the urge to tell her to remember where she was and who she was speaking to, Isla frowned. ‘I don’t know what you mean. Xander asked for a tour so I showed him around.’

  Bobbi looked at her like she’d sprouted an extra head. ‘You screamed at him not to touch you and when I asked if everything was okay, although it obviously wasn’t, he took my head off.’

  She saw the captivated faces of the little group. Oh specfuckingtacular! Just what I need! Wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole, Isla opened her mouth to quell the rumour mill before it got into full swing, but Dean’s voice behind her made her jump. ‘What? You screamed at him not to touch you? What the hell was he doing?’

  Isla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Has everyone around here been taking stupid pills? I didn’t scream at anyone. I tripped as I got out of the lift, Xander tried to assist but I told him not to because I was fine. That’s it. Nothing sinister.’

  ‘But Derek saw you getting out of Xander’s flashy car this morning, didn’t you, Derek? How come you were with him early this morning? Is there something going on between you two?’ Belinda demanded with an expression that suggested she’d like to scratch Isla’s eyes out.

  ‘Not that it’s anyone’s business but the Piccadilly line was closed this morning so I was fo
rced to walk. Xander saw me as he drove past, stopped and offered me a lift.’ Or something like that. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint but there’s no juicy gossip. There is, however, work to be done around here so I suggest you get on with what you’re paid for. And, for future reference, please keep these displays of abject stupidity out of the public areas of the hotel.’

  By the time she’d stomped back to her office, she’d calmed down some and felt sorry for Dean. The rest of them might have deserved being spoken to like that, but he hadn’t. She decided to call in on him and apologise on her way out at the end of the day.

  She was beginning to wish she’d turned around at Southgate station and gone back home. The day had just got worse and worse. And all thanks to Xander, she thought as she jabbed out an email on her keyboard, as though it was personally responsible for her crappy day.

  The rest of the week didn’t get much better. He riled her, intoxicated her, frustrated her, confused her, but worst of all, he aroused her. He aroused her simply by standing a little too close or by fixing her with that ravenous stare. He could make her breath catch in her throat and inspire all kinds of inappropriate thoughts which dominated her mind so that she couldn’t think of anything else. And she hated it. She told herself firmly that she hated him; he was an arrogant, egotistical fucker that she happened to be sexually attracted to, but it would wear off in time, and then she could hate him without reservation.

  Chapter Three

  After a particularly challenging Monday of lewd double entendres and invasions of her personal space, she felt she was becoming more accustomed to Xander’s godlike aura. In fact, she’d congratulated herself on becoming almost immune to his sex-on-a-stick persona when she’d left the office to go back to the sanctuary of her flat. Although that wasn’t strictly true; she still felt naked when those eyes swept over her body and her lady parts responded, despite her attempts to remain unaffected by him; but at least she didn’t openly lust after him like most of the other female staff. She tried to think of him derisively – like he was just the office pervert, and that worked well . . . when he wasn’t standing a few inches from her . . . or making her pussy clench.

  Tuesday morning had gone incredibly well, and that, she told herself, is nothing to do with the fact that I barely saw my overbearing boss. She almost groaned aloud when the interconnecting door opened and Xander appeared mid-afternoon. She’d hoped he’d stay cooped up in his office all afternoon but she should have known better. She turned to look at him, rearranging her scowl into some semblance of a smile.

  ‘I need your assistance,’ he announced. ‘I’ve been going through the bookings for the next couple of months and it doesn’t look good. Could you come in, please, and talk me through them?’

  Surprised at his polite, even pleasant request, she nodded and replied, ‘Of course.’

  She followed him back into his office and went to sit in the chair in front of his desk. Instead, he directed her to sit on the sofa before offering her a drink.

  ‘I’ll have a sparkling water please.’ She sat on the sumptuous cream leather sofa and watched him open one of the fitted cupboard doors that ran along the side wall of the office. Inside it was a mini bar.

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t appear to have any.’

  ‘Oh . . . um, a tonic water?’

  He took two glasses from a neighbouring cupboard and half-filled them with tonic water. ‘Ice? Slice?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she replied, thinking that whatever transformation had taken place inside Xander’s head since their last encounter, she wholeheartedly approved.

  She watched him pop a slice of lemon, several ice cubes and tonic into each of the glasses. Then she watched in confusion as he took a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin and topped up one glass to the brim. Not only did she frown on his drinking in work time but he had a car parked outside, which she assumed he would be driving home later. Her eyes widened when he poured a slug of gin into the other glass before bringing them over, handing one to her and placing the other one on a low table next to the sofa.

  ‘Um Xander . . . I didn’t request a gin and tonic. Just a tonic.’

  ‘I know, Red, but you always seem so jumpy and irritable around me. I thought it might help you to relax since we’ll be working together closely for the next couple of hours or so.’

  Couple of hours or so? Oh great! The sinking feeling in her stomach was tempered slightly by the realization that he was making an effort to improve their working relationship. She had to respect him for that. And a G and T was her tipple of choice . . . particularly if it happened to be made with Bombay Sapphire. Hey, if the boss says it’s okay to have a G and T at work, who am I to argue? He may even be right – it might help me to relax in here.

  As soon as he sat down next to her, resting a laptop on his knees, she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax easily, alcohol or no alcohol. Well, maybe if she downed the whole bottle! His leg was almost touching her and his arm brushed against hers as he fired up the laptop. For Isla, it was as if static electricity were crackling away between them, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and refusing to allow her muscles to relax at all. She sat bolt upright and tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but with the air seemingly vibrating between them, it proved to be more than a little distracting.

  Almost as distracting were the endless Excel spreadsheet columns that he’d prepared and the way he kept pointing to the contents – tiny figures that were almost impossible to decipher – unless she leaned in closer. That only made her feel hot and uncomfortable, which in turn made her sip her drink more frequently until she attempted a sip but found the glass empty. Without breaking his seemingly endless flow of information from the spreadsheet, or taking his eyes off it, he passed her his untouched glass and took her empty one.

  Eventually, he got to the point. Basically, he wasn’t happy that the hotel was running on a daily basis at an average of just under 70 per cent occupancy during the week, and weekends were substantially lower, averaging an occupancy of only 15 per cent. Xander quizzed her about historic trends and future predictions, which was difficult given that she’d only been in her role for two months – a fact that he was unaware of until she voiced it. Together they analysed the advance bookings and then, referring back to his spreadsheet, found that they matched the trend.

  Isla explained that this was due to the main clientele being business professionals who tended to book just a few days in advance, and that this also accounted for the low occupancy weekend rate. Businessmen and women were at home at weekends.

  Xander then turned to the sales figures for the bar. The best night by far was a Friday and he couldn’t understand why, given their clientele. Isla explained that because the hotel bar was usually devoid of any residents on a Friday evening, at her suggestion they’d recently opened it up to non-residents over the weekend. It was a move that had paid off as they’d found that young professionals who worked in Kensington began to congregate there for a Friday evening drink after work. Their numbers tailed off later on in the evening as people went home to get ready for their night out on the town, but it had helped to boost takings from the bar by around 30 per cent.

  She then took the opportunity to attempt to fill Xander in on Dean’s ideas for future growth but he brushed them aside, seemingly totally disinterested.

  ‘We need to come up with some way of attracting a wider range of residents. This is supposed to be a luxury hotel yet we get bookings from business folk. We can’t afford to run with the weekend occupancy so low. And I want this hotel to be booked up weeks if not months in advance. It’s a five-star hotel in Kensington for fuck’s sake, or at least it’s supposed to be. It’s not my idea of a five-star hotel.’ The look on his face made Isla think he felt that she was personally responsible for the hotel’s shortcomings.

  ‘I agree. I did some research and analysis when I took on this role. Remember that was only two months ago, but Gerald wasn’t interested. I didn’t know
at the time that he was already planning on selling up and emigrating to the south of France. What I found indicates that we can’t compete with the large hotel chains in the area. People who can afford to stay in those hotels do so because they’re familiar with what they’ll get from a well-known chain.’

  ‘Bollocks!’ he roared.

  Isla felt herself shrink back into the plump sofa. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Yes, people know what they’ll get from those chains . . . the same old, same old. The beauty of luxury independent hotels is that they offer bespoke elegance and decadence. Staying in one should be an unforgettable experience from the moment one arrives until the moment one regretfully checks out. So tell me, do you think Mr Average Joe Businessman feels like that?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she blurted. ‘That isn’t why he books a room here.’

  ‘Exactly. So it’s your job, Red, to rectify that. Beginning with what’s wrong with the hotel and don’t give me any bullshit – I know the failings aren’t your fault . . . yet. So don’t sugar-coat it. I want to know precisely why this hotel doesn’t ooze luxury, why guests don’t get the wow factor they deserve, and why the hell it’s full of fucking sales reps every fucking night!’

  Fuck, he’s hot when he’s angry! No, not angry – passionate. He was clearly passionate about improving the hotel and, for that, Isla could have hugged him – well, mentally maybe. She’d felt reined in by Gerald but now she felt that together, she and Xander could achieve something. Really put the hotel on the map as it deserved to be.

  Enthusiastically, she said, ‘Great. I’ll get to work on it straight away.’ She made to stand to return to her office.

  His hand whipped out and grasped her forearm, sending a shockwave of indescribable sensation through her body and making her gasp.

  ‘You will indeed. Right now. Right here. So come on, Red . . . give it to me.’ He looked her squarely in the eye, his eyes shining like liquid silver.