Quick Dirty Luck: A Love Between the Pages Novel

by Heather Guimond

  “You don’t have to stay, you know,” I said as he lowered me onto the sofa in my room. He ignored me. My temper began to rise again as I watched him retrieve a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge, hand it to me, then walk to the bathroom. I heard a rush of water pouring from the tub faucet. The son of a bitch was drawing me a bath. Apparently, I’m no longer allowed to do anything for myself. I waited semi-patiently as I heard him fill the tub, but when he returned and tried to pick me up again, I was through.

  “I can walk—and just in case you have any other ideas, I’ll definitely be washing myself. You aren’t staying.”

  He merely chuckled as if he thought I was cute. He stepped away and waved toward the bathroom door.

  “It’s all yours. I’ll be right here when you’re done, Alexis.” The way he kept saying my name did funny things south of my belly button.

  I stomped over to the dresser where I’d unpacked my things and pulled out my short, royal blue, silk robe.

  “If you’re still here when I get out, I’m calling Jasper. Maybe he and a few of his goons will convince you to leave.”

  “I’ve been kicking that guy’s ass for thirty years. He can’t help you. Now, go get cleaned up, relax a little, then we’ll finally have another drink and a long talk.”

  I gave him a look before walking into the bathroom and slamming the door. Insufferable prick.

  I turned to see the sunken, steaming tub filled with bubbles. The ice in my veins melted a little at the idea he took an extra second to add some of the lilac bath foam I’d brought with me from home. Most men wouldn’t have even noticed it sitting on the lip of the tub where I’d left it. This was why I was a fool. I’d always been more touched by the smallest acts of thoughtfulness than any extravagant gesture or gift. Maybe that’s where I needed to raise my expectations.

  Stripping down, I stepped into the tub and slid into the decadent bath. He’d poured the bubbles in generously, and the result was the silky feeling of the skin softeners in the water surrounding me. Just as I started thinking about softening my attitude toward Kent a bit, I reminded myself I had business to do with him. No matter how much he wanted to pursue me, I needed to not only be nice to him, I needed to put out a much more professional aura. I’d been caught between fighting with him and being his next great fuck. That was my out. I needed to keep my head on the business I had to conduct with him. I silently vowed to control my temper and libido.

  Just when I’d almost convinced myself I could erase the initial impression I’d given him, the door swung opened, and the son-of-a-bitch walked right in.

  “Comfy, Princess?” he asked mockingly as he pulled the stool from the vanity and slid it right next to the tub, planting his big, fat butt—okay, in truth, it was a tight and sexy butt—on top.

  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Kent?” I demanded. “I’m following your demands. Can’t you just stay away for ten minutes?”

  “Not when I know I have you cornered. We’re going to have that talk—right here, right now.”

  “If you think I’m not woman enough to stand up, naked and dripping with bubbles to get away from your overbearing presence, you’re sorely mistaken,” I hissed. The very last thing I needed to do was prowl around naked in front of him. Anything was liable to happen, but he didn’t need to know it was a bluff. God, I hoped he couldn’t tell.

  Kent went slack-jawed for a moment, then shook his head as if to clear whatever vision had been clouding it.

  “As much as I’m tempted to test that theory,” he said with a cough, “we need to talk. Let’s start with why you told me your name is Alexis, but you told Jasper and are registered here as Reina Dare.”

  I blew out an easy breath. Okay, that might put things on the proper footing. I could easily explain my pen name, why I used my real name with him, then segue into my reason for being in his hotel in the first place. Then we could talk about the book signing event. That could possibly diffuse the crackling electricity between us. Maybe.

  “I’m a romance author. I write two different kinds of books. I use my real name, Alexis Lane, for the sweet, innocent books. Reina Dare is my pen name for the dark and dirty books I also write. I checked into the hotel as Reina because I’m here to do business associated with my smutty stuff. I introduced myself to you by my real name because I didn’t know who you were, and when I meet strangers, I don’t usually assume my alter-ego.”

  “Business?” he replied, no doubt wondering what I was talking about before realization dawned. “You mean that ‘Limitless Lust” thing? I was just looking at the proposal last night before I went down to the bar. That’s exactly the kind of special event I want happening at the new Kingsley Hotel. What you saw in my suite is the general theme I have planned for the rest of this place and having a bunch of racy authors and fans take it over fits right into that picture.”

  “Really?” I asked enthusiastically, my hope at being able to revive the chance to make the deal soaring. “I came to see if we could negotiate our package rates in exchange for an exclusive, annual contract. If you let me finish up here, I’d love to sit down with you and discuss the particulars.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” he said. I nearly whooshed out a breath of relief that I’d distracted both of us from the simmering intensity between us.

  “In fact, as much as it pains me to, I’m going to let you enjoy the rest of your bath in peace. We’ll meet this evening and discuss everything over dinner in my suite.”

  “Now wait a minute…” I started, my arm jerking out of the water to stop him from standing, splatting water everywhere.

  “No arguments, Ms. Lane, or should I call you Ms. Dare while we discuss business?”

  “Alexis is still fine, but…”

  “No buts. You’re Alexis, I’m Kent, and we’re going to conduct business over a meal. It’s not that unusual.”

  “Fine, but unless you like seeming like a total creeper, we’ll meet in one of your restaurants.” I put my foot down. If I went to his suite again, I knew what would happen. I had to control myself and get this deal done. I’d never forgive myself, and Andrea probably wouldn’t either, if I ruined it with a celebratory fuck. Which is exactly what I’d want to do.

  “I only hoped to minimize your talent for running out on me. I’ll be back at your door to collect you at seven o’clock. Wear something elegant.”

  He stood, bent over the tub as I frantically tried to scoop the dying foam around myself, and put out his hand. I gingerly slid my wet palm in his, which he gave a tender squeeze. I told myself the shiver that ran through me was due to the cooling bath water. Without another word, he was gone.

  Houston, we might have a problem.

  Five

  Kent

  I rode the elevator down to the lobby, whistling some made-up tune. While I hadn’t made any significant headway in getting Alexis into my bed, I was excited about the business we needed to discuss. I felt a pang of something, I don’t know if it was guilt or warning, but something was trying to tell me mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. Missy briefly crossed my mind, but I shoved her aside. I already knew Alexis was nothing like her.

  She was definitely her own woman, and given her penchant for running away, she’d probably sneak off in the middle of the night after sex. I grimaced as I imagined her snatching up her clothes while I slept, rather than doing the walk of shame the next day. The picture just didn’t sit right with me though I wasn’t sure why because I don’t have sleepovers anymore. But no matter how I looked at it, the fantasy always ended with me waking to a round of sleepy morning sex with Alexis. I needed to get a grip.

  I wound my way through the casino until I reached the doors to Barnaby’s, the Kingsley Hotel’s best restaurant—my dad’s nod to my grandfather, Barnaby Kingsley who had run a small family restaurant his entire adult life. Though he’d long passed away, my father had wanted to honor his memory by creating the kind of restaurant Grandpa always dreamed o
f owning.

  I strolled up to the maître d who was busy pretending to go over the evening’s reservations.

  “Hey, Jacques,” I said playfully with a nod to the book. “I need a table for seven-thirty tonight.”

  “I think we have a table near the kitchen,” Bob replied dryly with a discreet flip of his middle finger. “Would you like me to book it for you. Jasper?”

  I laughed out loud. Bob and I had grown up together, and he was like another brother to me. We’d been inseparable until high school when he fell in with the wrong crowd. After spending much of his teens and early twenties involved with drugs—using and dealing—he got himself into a bit of trouble that resulted in him doing a few months in a minimum-security correctional facility. His mom called my dad and begged him to give Bob a chance, to help him get on the road to a better life.

  My dad had always liked Bob, so he’d initially given him a job in the kitchen at Barnaby’s. He’d quickly proven himself with his hard work and dedication, so my dad made him a server in no time. When I took over the hotel, I put Bob in charge of the entire wait staff, which came along with the maître d responsibilities. Well, it didn’t really, but I assigned him the task so I could pop in and give him shit whenever I felt like it. Like I was right now.

  “Give me my dad’s old table,” I told him, “the one in the alcove with the windows.”

  “Got a hot date? That cocktail server again?” he said with a smirk, meaning Missy. He’d been working the morning I was forced to buy her breakfast.

  “Ugh, don’t remind me. It’s bad enough I ran into her last night.” I shuddered noticeably. “I do sort of have a hot date. Well, it’s business, but I’d like it to be more.”

  “When are you just going to give up? Your track record with women sucks. You always end up banging some gold-digging slut or a psycho chick. In Missy’s case, you got the combo deal. Why do you want to get your business messed up in something like that?”

  He wasn’t entirely wrong. I kind of did have shitty taste in women. I’d thought Marguerite, my former fiancée, was a jewel. We’d met at the hotel’s version of a nightclub when my dad was still in charge. She’d been there with a group of girlfriends, celebrating their college graduation. I’d been bowled over by her long sable hair and big doe eyes. She was petite and slender, not my usual type, but she had a razor wit that kept me laughing all night long. I took her home that night, and within a week, she was living with me in the small condo I had just off the strip. I practically worshiped the ground she walked on. By the end of the year, I’d asked her to marry me.

  We were right in the middle of our wedding plans when I’d overheard her whispering on the phone to one of her girlfriends about how she’d been fucking a hot guy who worked at the hotel’s pools. She was laughing about how she was going to be a cliché trophy wife to the hotel heir while having her own cabana boy on the side. I packed up all her stuff the next day and took it over to the same girlfriend’s house, then changed the locks. I cut her off completely, never saw nor spoke to her again, but she’d wrecked me.

  I spent the next year bed-hopping from one crazy woman to the next. I always had someone either hoping to soothe my broken heart and become the next potential Mrs. Kingsley or one who was incessantly needy and blowing up my phone all day long. I semi got it together when dad decided to retire. Once I took up the CEO mantle, I limited my dalliances to maybe one or two a month, rather than a weekly or sometimes, nightly thing.

  “There’s something about this woman, Bob. She’s incredible. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

  “Which means she’s going to make you miserable,” he suggested.

  “I don’t think so. At least not in the way I’m used to. She’s got a temper and a mouth on her which do strange things to me. Oh, and she has these shoes, fuck, they’re almost as amazing as she is,” I said, my mind inevitably drifting back to those killer red stilettos.

  “Kent, if you have business with her, you need to stick to that. Think with the big head,” Bob said, poking his finger into my forehead. “I know you can do it, you’ve done a tremendous job since your dad retired. Don’t let some woman with a hot body and fashionable footwear destroy all that.”

  While the book signing would be a great guest attraction, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a make or break deal for The Kingsley. It was just important to me personally because it embodied the future I wanted for the place. I was sure I could find any number of events that could stand in its place if Limitless Lust in Las Vegas didn’t work out, but I wanted it to succeed even before I knew Alexis was involved. Now that I did, I meant to have both the event and her. I didn’t think I needed to choose.

  “It’s not like that. This woman, her name is Alexis, doesn’t need anything from me. I don’t think she even wants anything from me. She has her own money, she’s a very successful author, and most of the time, she’s running away from me rather than trying to move into my suite. It’s the most peculiar thing,” I said, scratching my head and starting to wonder if she even liked me at all. We had this thing between us, but when I stopped and thought about it objectively, it seemed more like she couldn’t stand me.

  “Oh, now I’m getting the picture. She’s someone you can’t impress for just one night. She’s making you work for it, isn’t she?” Bob pretty much cut right to the heart of it.

  “Well, yes, there’s that, but there’s also more. She vibrates with energy. Just touching her hand is like grabbing hold of twenty-thousand volts.”

  “Well, my friend, I’d caution you again about trying to mix business with pleasure, but I can see you’re fucked.”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy.”

  “Anytime,” Bob replied smugly. He scribbled my name down in the reservation book. “Now, I have you scheduled for your dad’s table at seven-thirty. I only wish I was going to be here to watch everything go down, but I have Golden Knights tickets. Have Jasper call me in the morning, so I know where to pay my respects.”

  “Fuck off, Bob. Thanks for the table. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Bob slapped me on the back before answering the phone on the desk that had just begun to ring.

  Unsure what to do with myself for the next several hours, I headed up to my office to review the current proposal for Alexis’ event.

  At five o’clock, I pushed away from my desk. I’d gone over the preliminary list of services Alexis’ counterpart, Andrea Cifelli, had requested. It seemed pretty bare bones compared to what I’d originally envisioned. The request was for one large convention room for four days, which they’d break down and reassemble to suit their needs each day. I thought that was preposterous. We had plenty of room, and for the time they wanted it, we had ample space in other areas we could already set up for them.

  Then there was the catering menu. Continental breakfast and finger foods for lunch? I didn’t think so. It was obvious they were trying to put this show on with a tight budget, but I wanted it to be a real success. Not just because I had the hots for Alexis, but because I thought we could make it a major event for The Kingsley. I’d done a bit of sleuthing online about reader events, book signings, and author conferences and found they were crazy popular with the romance crowd. I hadn’t known until just that afternoon romance accounted for almost a billion and a half dollars in book sales each year. I didn’t know Alexis well, and I sure didn’t know Andrea Cifelli at all, but I didn’t think they were thinking big enough. I was willing to throw in a few extras to make the event better, but I wanted something in return, and for once, it had nothing to do with Alexis.

  I returned to my suite, stopping at the wet bar to pour some Belvedere into a chilled glass. I took off my shoes and sank into the black velvet sofa, letting my head fall back. My business brain was whirring away, trying to think of things that would make the event a standout success. Something that would make people beg to attend year after year if I could convince them we should partner for a defined period of
time as Alexis mentioned but with a minimum dollar amount. I knew it was risky, not being well versed in this type of event, but how much different could it be than any of the conventions we hosted for the techies and video game fanatics every year? Romance books were just a horse of a different color. Again, I thought of my buddy, Gage. I’m sure he would be able to provide some valuable insight.

  Looking at my watch, I realized I’d gotten lost in my thoughts again and only had enough time to dash through the shower and spruce up a little before meeting Alexis. She struck me as the type who wouldn’t appreciate being kept waiting. I promised myself one day soon, I’d have her teetering on the edge, just waiting for me to push her over, but for now, I was going to be all business.

  That’s what I told myself, anyway.

  Six

  Alexis

  After my bath, I spent the afternoon napping on and off. My stomach had remained delicate, but by the time six o’clock rolled around, I felt much better and thought I could at least manage a small meal. I didn’t know what was on the menu, but the food was the last thing on my mind.

  I needed to get my head straight before I met with Kent. I had to make the right impression—that I was a strong woman with a head for business and killer negotiation skills, rather than the racy vixen my true self wanted to be. The man was everything I should run from, and so far, I’d managed to do that. But the urge to fling myself into his arms and beg him to take me kept getting stronger. I had to keep a tight leash on myself—there were more important things at stake than satisfying my carnal desires.

  I blew out a frustrated breath as I approached the closet and thumbed through the few dressier outfits I’d brought with me. I’d only expected one meeting to accomplish my business objectives, so naturally, I only brought one smart suit. I was wearing that when I met Kent, so I couldn’t very well wear it again. Besides, he’d said to dress elegantly. That left me with two choices—a black lace dress with a nude underlay or a flashy red dress that fit me like a second skin. They were perfectly acceptable for public—I didn’t do trashy—but were sexy at the same time.