Hypnotic Seduction (The Seduction Series) (26 page)

“No.” He shook his head, forcing his gaze away from her crossed legs. “I’m not blaming anyone.”

“It sure sounds that way.”

“I’m simply saying you need to change the dynamics between you and your mom.”

“Okay, Dr. Freud, how?”

“Communication isn’t one-sided. Think of it in terms of cause and effect.”

“Such as she didn’t show up, and now I’m ticked.”

“There you go. You’re letting your relationship disintegrate into a game of tit-for-tat. What will your response to last night be?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and took another sip of her coffee. “What’s an appropriate reaction to someone who deliberately tries to hurt you?”

“Depends on what you’re aiming for. If you want to continue the way you’ve been all these years, get pissed
off
and tell her how much she hurt you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Shake her up. Don’t give the response she’s expecting. When she fires a shot, diffuse it by being nice in return.”

“Turn the other cheek so she can slap that one, too?”

He’d always hated Edward’s assume-control-of-your-relationships lectures. But after years in management, he’d learned his grandfather knew a lot about handling people and getting the response he wanted from them.

“If you get mad, you’ll give your mother the payoff she’s looking for. Your relationship will never be different until
you
change
your
attitude.”

Hannah stared at him for several moments as if she were digesting what he’d said. “In other words, I’m supposed to love her no matter how she acts.”

“That’s about the size of it. The message you need to send
is
you want to spend time with her, but you don’t need to in order to be happy.”

She heaved a defeated sigh. “I know you’re right. Callie’s sister told me more or less the same thing. But unconditional love isn’t as easy as you both make it sound.”

“No, it’s tough. But on the day you stop needing your mom’s approval to feel good about yourself, you’ll probably also lose your compulsion to please the whole rest of the world.”

The wounded look on her face made him wish he’d kept his big trap shut.

“Is wanting others to be happy really such a bad thing?”

“Not for me.” He chuckled. “Hell, I have a people-pleasing assistant who makes my entire life easier.” He reached across the table and covered her hand. “For your sake, learn to put your own happiness first for a change.”

An emotion that looked a lot like guilt flickered in her eyes for a split second before she jerked her gaze away and muttered, “Believe me, I’m a lot more self-serving than you’d ever guess.”

~*~

Never in Hannah’s wildest fantasies had she imagined she would ever stay at the Baldwin Hotel. The owner of the luxury chain, AJ Baldwin, had once joked on a late night talk show that his elite hotels were so dedicated to catering to the rich and famous they placed gold bricks on the pillows each night instead of mints.

The CEO had then confided they were simply chunky Swiss chocolate bars wrapped in gold foil, which was embossed with the Baldwin logo, to look as if they’d come from Fort Knox.

Hannah stared at the opulent, coliseum-sized lobby while waiting for Jordan to register. The massive fresh flower arrangements that graced every flat surface must have cost more than her monthly salary alone. A thick Persian carpet covered the polished marble floor and hosted several groups of richly upholstered furniture, which formed individual conversation areas. The glittering chandeliers overhead stole her breath.

Maybe the hotel magnate had actually been kidding about the chocolate bars instead of the gold in his interview.

“You’ll be in the Presidential suite,” the registration clerk said, handing Jordan an envelope with two keycards tucked inside. “If you or Mrs. Calder
need
anything during your stay, please don’t hesitate to call the concierge.”

Jordan stiffened. “Wait. You misunderstood.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hannah whispered.

“The lady and I are
not
married,” he continued, with a vehemence that conveyed his distaste of such an idea. “Miss Oliver is my assistant.”

The man’s face flushed. “I’m sorry, Miss. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“The suite does have two bedrooms?” Jordan asked, smoothing his paisley tie.

“Yes,” the clerk replied. “However the second isn’t as large or as lavishly appoint—”

“That’ll be fine,” Hannah assured him. Undoubtedly, a standard room at the Baldwin was ten times more luxurious than anyplace she’d ever slept.

“Yes, it will be.” Jordan took her arm and followed the uniformed bellman with their bags to the elevator. “But you’ll be staying in the main bedroom, not me.”

“That’s not necess—”

“Hush. It’s my turn to pamper you for a change. You haven’t cornered the market on pleasing people.”

She mentally cringed at his crack concerning her need to make the whole world happy. Inasmuch as it made her ecstatic to know he’d thought about her enough to develop some insight into her psyche, his bull’s-eye accuracy about her relationship with Candace was disconcerting.

On the trip from the airport to the hotel, she’d pondered everything he’d said and recalled the intensity of his gaze when he’d told her to put her own happiness first. He should only know her so-called unselfish gift to him was a calculated attempt to manipulate him.

As she followed Jordan and the bellman off the elevator and saw the magnificence of the corridor leading to the hotel’s most elite accommodations on the top floor, she shook off her guilt. No way would she allow anything to tarnish this experience.

Her breath caught in her throat when the bellman threw open the leaded glass double doors to the immense suite.

Marble columns supported an expansive cathedral ceiling with a fresco of cherubs and clouds with a floral border. She strolled across the spotless white carpet to a wall of windows and French doors that led to a terrace overlooking the Potomac River and the national monuments.

“Wow.” She breathed out her awe, running her hand over the ice blue and silver brocade on the armchairs. “This is incredible.”

After the bellman returned from depositing their bags in the two bedrooms, Jordan pressed a tip into the fellow’s hand. “Thank you very much, Sir.” The uniformed man bowed. “The butler will be here shortly to offer you refreshments and to unpack for you.”

Butler?

As soon as the bellman left, Jordan clapped his hands together. “Well. I’d better get going.” He glanced at his watch. “The conference starts at eleven.”

Apparently he didn’t plan for her to accompany him. “What do you want me to do for you this afternoon?” she asked.

“Enjoy yourself.”

“That’s it?”

“Order the butler around, call room service, take a bubble bath.”

“But—”

“The concierge will make you an appointment at the hotel’s spa if you’d like, and there’s a pool on the roof.” He swept his hand toward the windows and then the gargantuan wide-screen television. “Or you can always go sight-seeing or watch an in-house movie if you’re bored.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “So what time should I expect you back?”

“No later than six. We’ll eat in the restaurant downstairs. I
’m told
it’s one of the best in the city. Ask the butler to make us a reservation for seven-thirty, and tell him I’ll need my shoes shined and my suit pressed when I get back.”

She’d thought they’d be having a business dinner, possibly with some of his associates—not an intimate meal at some posh restaurant. Did she dare hope the CD might already be wearing down his resistance?

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t pack anything very dressy to wear. Are you sure you want to have
dinn
—”

“Then go shopping.” He dug a credit card out of his wallet and told her his PIN for the ATM in case the stores refused to let her sign for purchases on his account. “Get whatever you want, my treat. Find yourself some souvenirs.”

“Anything I want? You’re only saying that because you know I won’t take advantage of your generosity.”

“No, I mean it. Buy yourself a car if you like. My sole purpose for bringing you, Hannah, was for you to have a good time. If you don’t, I’ll be very disappointed. I have to go.” He winked at her. “You have fun.”

“Oh, I will.” She grinned, fanning herself with his credit card. After all, she didn’t want to disappoint him.

~*~

He needed his head examined for bringing her someplace so romantic. What had he been thinking?

Jordan shifted restlessly in his seat that evening while Hannah moaned her way through the slice of decadent chocolate mousse cake he’d ordered for her. The fudge-frosted confection stood seven layers tall and had more filling than cake. The orgasmic look on her face was erotic enough to give an octogenarian a hard-on without the aid of a little blue pill.

It didn’t help that her skin seemed to glow in the soft candlelight and the reflection from the crystal chandeliers made her hair shimmer like spun gold.

“I’m sorry.” She groaned. “You’ll have to eat the rest.” She pushed the silver-rimmed plate across the white linen tablecloth. “I swear you’re trying to put the weight I’ve lost back on me.”

He rolled the stem of his crystal champagne flute between his fingers and nodded toward her black cocktail dress. “You have room for a few extra pounds.”

She held out the full swirly skirt gathered a few inches beneath her low-cut bodice “The only two dresses that fit were this chiffon halter and a close cousin to the slinky number I wore on Friday night. And we both know how you felt about that outfit. I figured this was roomy enough that you couldn’t object to it, and I’ll still be able to wear it if I’m ever lucky enough to get pregnant.”

The hell he couldn’t object. It was hard to say which cocktail dress was the lesser of two evils. The ruffled plunging halter—cut in a deep V—cupped her breasts in a way that simply emphasized how lush her bosom was. She had every man in the restaurant gawking at her generous cleavage and praying, with every breath she drew, the pearl button at the back of her neck would pop.

Alternatively, the other so-called dress had clung to her backside in a way that made him and every other heterosexual male with a heartbeat ache to squeeze her round bottom.

“Regardless,”—she chuckled—“in the interest of my cholesterol level alone, that cake was the last thing I needed after eating onion soup covered in cheese and a King crab casserole drenched with butter.”

He glared at the two men seated at the table across the aisle
who
, ever since their dates excused themselves to use the restroom, had been staring at Hannah and whispering behind their hands. The lust burning in the men’s eyes and their lewd smirks made it obvious they were sharing vulgar fantasies of the kinky things they’d do with Jordan’s dinner companion, given a chance.

Damn, sometimes he despised his gender.

She wasn’t just eye-candy for them to drool over. If they had any idea what a wonderful sense of humor and a sunny, generous nature she had or how talented and efficient she was at her job, they couldn’t look at her that way.

“I think it’s time to go upstairs.” He scowled at the men again, and signaled the waiter for the check.

“Don’t you want to finish your coffee?”

“No, I’ve had enough.” Especially of watching those two perverts leer at her. Their salacious looks might not have bothered him so much if they didn’t make him feel so ashamed of the erotic thoughts she inspired in him.

But damn it. He’d wanted to make love to her even before he knew she was hiding a bombshell body under her baggy outfits. Her figure wasn’t the only reason he was attracted to her. He liked everything about Hannah—her laughter, the way she listened to him, how her eyes sparkled when she told him off. He wanted to know even more about her—especially what she tasted like when she came.

And yet....all through dinner she’d been so intent on asking about his conference and making him the center of her attention he’d never even inquired about her day.

What a hypocrite. All he’d been able to think about was taking her up to that big empty bed upstairs and making love to her all night.

“So what did you do today besides shop for your dress?”

“I just went back to the suite. It seemed kind of foolish to let you pay for something so fabulous and not enjoy it. I took that bubble bath you suggested and let the butler serve me lunch while I watched an old movie. Oh, and I bought you a present in the hotel’s gift shop.”

“You were supposed to buy yourself something.” He scanned the bill the waiter delivered and scribbled his signature on it. “You already gave me the CD.”

The color drained from her face. “Uhh—about that.”

“Are you okay?” He stood and took her hand, helping her up from her seat. “You look as if you feel sick.”

“Just a little too much to eat. That CD, it’s not—”

“It’s great. It put me right to sleep last night. Even though I woke up a few times, I never felt as rested as this morning. I made a copy of the disc, so I could have one at home and play one at the office.” He guided her out of the restaurant to the elevator. “What’d you get me today?”

“It’s a pillow—or rather
a neck roll—
made of that thermal responsive foam that conforms to your body heat. I thought it might help ease the tension in your neck.”

“Thanks. I hope you charged it to the suite.”

When the elevator opened, she stepped onto it without answering him.

“You didn’t, did you?”

“It wouldn’t be a gift if you paid for it.”

Un-freaking-believable
. He stared at her silently while the elevator shot to the top floor and the doors opened. After she stepped out, he followed and slid the keycard into the suite’s lock.

She grabbed his wrist. “Jordan, why did you really bring me with you on this trip? You didn’t have a blessed thing for me to do. I know you said you wanted me to have fun, but you could’ve simply told me to take the day off. And why the intimate candlelight dinner?”

Count on her to get right to the heart of things.