Authors: Jaci Burton
“You like it there?”
“Yes.”
“It’s cold up there,
isn’t it?”
“I like the weather in
Boston.” Hopefully he’d grab a clue that she wasn’t interested in idle
chit-chat.
“I like it hot.”
Oh, lord. She wished
she could slap the side of her head and vanish the heated thoughts his
statement had conjured.
They arrived at her
floor and Aidan led her to her room.
“Since you’ll be here
for awhile we’re giving you a suite. We thought it might make you feel a little
more at home than in a standard room.”
He slid the key card
into the slot and opened the door, standing aside for her to step in.
Like the rest of the
hotel, the suite was decorated with Creole antiques and French reproductions.
And it was huge. Two large windows looked out over the courtyard below. An
expansive living area was populated with brocade covered couches and an
oversized work desk. She stepped over to a side set of doors which opened onto
a private balcony, complete with a wrought iron table and chairs.
“This is way too fancy
for me,” she said, ignoring the very tall, very imposing man standing in the
center of the room. “A regular guest room would have been fine.”
“Nonsense,” he replied,
beckoning her into the bedroom. A dark four-poster bed centered the room, with
a matching dresser and a makeup table nearby. She followed him into a bathroom
any woman would fall in love with. A huge marble countertop and vanity were etched
in intricate swirls of beige. The glass shower could fit four people inside
easily. Also set entirely in marble, the Jacuzzi tub was wide and long enough
for two people.
There were those
blasted images again, of her and Aidan in that tub filled with scented oils,
the jets pulsing a rhythmic beat against them and her naked body resting
against his. She let out a shaky sigh, hoping his mind was tuned elsewhere.
But when she turned to
him, it was quite obvious it wasn’t. How had his sultry amber eyes escaped her
before? They darkened and smoldered, capturing her in their warmth.
“Like the tub?” he
asked.
“Yes, it’s nice.” She
turned away and fled the bathroom.
“Would you like a few
moments to unpack? Change?”
“No, I’m ready for a
tour of the hotel if you don’t mind.” And to get the hell out of this room that
made her think of humid nights and hot sex. Specifically with the man standing
in her room. What would it be like to throw caution to the wind and actually
act on her thoughts? She’d never been impulsive before. Okay, maybe that one
time. But with that man, it had been more of a well planned disaster rather
than an impulsive act. Thinking without acting led to trouble, she knew that.
But once, just once in
her damn life she’d like to do something naughty, something exciting, without
thinking of the consequences, without dwelling on the outcome. Do something
just because she felt like it.
Yeah, right. That would
happen the first time someone actually thought of her as a hot, babelicious
blonde who exuded sex from her pores. She almost laughed out loud at that
thought.
With a sigh she smiled
politely at Aidan, feeling for all the world like a wilted flower. Her silk
suit and blouse clung to her. Visuals of stripping naked and standing under a
cold spray of water offered a brief, tantalizing relief from the heat. Maybe
what she really needed to cool down was to strip naked and stroke her sexual
ache to a blistering orgasm.
That would have to wait
until later, though. In the meantime, she had to get her mind around business.
“Tell me about the
hotel,” she asked as they left her room and headed down in the elevator. Aidan
led her through the lobby and into the courtyard. Banana and palm trees swayed
in the light breeze, providing minimal relief from the oppressive heat.
Heat that Aidan didn’t
seem to mind at all. He looked as crisp and unwrinkled as if the day’s weather
was like a cool, fall Boston day. She, on the other hand, was nearly melting.
They sat at a table in
the shade, and Aidan ordered mint tea for both of them.
“The Rising Storm is
the second of my family’s hotels,” he explained. “The first is much smaller and
right on Bourbon Street. My parents run it. This one is operated by me, my
brother and sisters.”
Although she’d done her
homework on the Storm family, she preferred to hear it from one of the members
themselves. “Why did you build another hotel?”
He smiled and her heart
trembled. Damn it all, anyway.
“Growth. Progress.
Plus, we had the idea to add a casino and we can’t do that with the old hotel’s
location. Building one near the river’s edge allowed us to plan for a joint
venture with a gambling organization.”
She nodded, grateful
when a smiling waitress brought their tea. She watched the interplay between
Aidan and the server whose nametag read Brandy. He winked at her and she
blushed and scurried off, then turned his gaze back to Melissa as if the
flirtatious encounter with the waitress had never occurred.
She needed to steer
clear of Aidan Storm. The man was a womanizer of the worst kind. And she’d been
there, done that, and had the scars on her heart to show for it.
“So what do you like to
do for fun?” he asked, leaning back in the chair, completely relaxed.
For some reason it
irritated her that he didn’t run at a frenetic pace like she did. She was
anxious to get started on their marketing plan, while he wanted to delve into
her personal life.
“Let’s keep things
between us strictly professional, shall we?”
He arched a brow. “Are
you sure that’s what you want,
cher
?”
The endearment rolled
off his lips and fired her blood, making her ache to slip her hands between her
legs and massage the incessant throbbing of her pussy.
“Of course it’s what I
want.”
“Your call. But there
might be some magic happening between us. I wouldn’t mind exploring a little.”
“I would.”
That brought about a
grin. “Not much for
joie de vivre,
are you,
ma belle
?”
She wished he wouldn’t
speak French. The language rolled seductively off his tongue and made her
shiver. Tapping her fingernail on the glass, she said, “I enjoy life just fine,
thank you. But I’m here for business, not pleasure, so if you don’t mind, tuck
it back in your pants and let’s get to work.”
Aidan threw his head
back and laughed. A deep, rich baritone that made her suck in her breath at the
stab of pleasure his laughter gave her. Damn, what was it going to take for the
female in her to stop being so…so. . .female around him?
“All right, Miss Cross,
you win. For now. Let’s head to the offices and we’ll take a look at the
marketing plans.”
Melissa sighed in
relief, discarding the brief disappointment she felt at the termination of his
suggestive banter.
She needed an orgasm to
release the tension that had been building inside her. Neglecting her baser
urges would only get her into trouble. She’d have to pencil in a self-induced
climax for later this evening. Once she’d gotten that out of the way, she’d be
much better able to handle Aidan Storm.
* * * * *
Aidan led Melissa to
his office, watching as she unloaded her laptop, presentation folders and
notepad, lining them up neatly on his conference table.
He resisted the urge to
laugh. He’d be lucky to find a pencil somewhere in his office. Having a near
photographic memory helped, considering he rarely wrote things down. He had a
secretary to enter important dates and information on his computer, not that
he’d ever look at it.
When it was time to
design a marketing plan he’d drag out the laptop and printer and go at it,
pulling forth all the vital information he’d stored in his brain. Other than
that, he kept it all within handy reach of his memory.
Apparently Melissa did
things differently. She slid a neatly designed binder in front of him. “Now, if
you look at the presentation folder in front of you, I’ve developed a initial
marketing plan as a starting point. Open to your suggestions, of course.”
“Of course.” He quickly
scanned the contents, impressed with her expertise. Then he closed it and
looked at her, enjoying the way her green eyes flashed whenever they made eye
contact.
Melissa Cross might
insist she was all about business, but Aidan had a sixth sense about these
things. And his sense told him underneath her cool Bostonian exterior beat the
heart of a wildcat. The sudden urge to peel her frosty layers away piece by
delectable piece had him hardening painfully.
“That’s it? You’re not
going to look at it any further?”
The play of emotions in
her expression was priceless. Shock, then indignation soared across her face.
Her pert little nose wrinkled and she crossed her arms.
“I read it. It’s good.
I’ll have more to add. There are a few changes I’d like to make, specifically
on page four, paragraph three of the marketing plan. I think we need to play up
the background of the two companies more, as well as identify the strategic
marketing concepts in a bullet point presentation to make it clear what our
primary goals are.”
Her eyes widened. “How
did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You know what. You
barely glanced at the binder, which has over 100 pages. And yet you pointed out
an exact page and paragraph and knew precisely what it contained.”
“I read lightning fast
and have a photographic memory. No magic involved.”
At her arched brow he
nearly cringed. Why did he have to say that? Magic was an intrinsic part of his
life, but he rarely mentioned it outside the family. Although the thought of
using some magic to heat up Melissa Cross had already crossed his mind more
than a few times. In fact, right now might be a good time. Maybe a little play
and that was all. Just to see how she’d react—gauge if his intuition about her
was right.
He rubbed his index and
middle finger together, the warmth beginning deep inside. The singe of heat
lightning was never painful, only a tingling excitement that never failed to
arouse him. The air swirled, charged with electricity, centering in his middle
like a gathering storm.
He opened his hand and
let the magic sail across the table.
Oh, yeah. An invisible
breeze wafted Melissa’s hair and her eyes widened. Her creamy cheeks blushed
pink, and she opened the top button of her blouse, shuddering when the warm air
crept inside.
He leaned back in his
chair and felt her, the heat buried deep inside her, and knew right then there
was something different about this woman. No one had ever reacted instantly to
the slightest bit of magic from him. No one had ever fired the heat waves back
toward him, letting him experience exactly what he’d sent out.
Hot damn, that was
exciting.
“Something wrong?” he
asked, trying to sound innocent.
“Don’t you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
Blowing out a quick
breath, she said, “It just got really hot in here.”
“No kidding. I didn’t
feel a thing.”
She fanned herself with
her hand. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I guess I must be more
unaccustomed to the New Orleans heat and humidity than I thought. Mind if I
take off my jacket?”
“Go right ahead.”
Take
anything off you like, darlin’. Jacket, skirt, panties and bra, anything
.
He shifted to accommodate his burgeoning erection, welcoming the heady ache
that came with arousal.
She stood and headed to
the bar against the wall and poured a glass of ice water. Without her long suit
jacket he glimpsed a better view of her body.
Lithe and slender.
Perfectly shaped ass outlined against the well-tailored suit. Her breasts
weren’t large, but they fit the rest of her. Sleek, like an athlete, with long
legs that seemed to go on for miles. Oh yeah, he’d bet a million bucks she was
a runner. Or maybe a dancer with those shapely calves.
Damn, he was hard now.
Hard and pulsing with the need for release. He briefly wondered what Miss
Boston would do if he reached down and caressed his shaft through his pants?
Wouldn’t it be fun to shock her just a little more?
She took her seat again
and sighed.
“Feeling better?” he
asked, knowing the minimal magic he’d tossed her way only lasted a few seconds.
“Yes. Sorry. I don’t
know what happened. It just got very warm in here.”
“Don’t be. Gets hot
here. You might want to lose the suits unless we have an official meeting.”
“You’re wearing one,”
she countered.
He slipped off his
jacket and hung it on his chair back, then loosened his tie. “A rarity unless I
have an appointment. Typically it’s jeans and a polo shirt. Feel free to dress
casual around here.”
She lifted her chin.
“I’m not used to casual at work.”