Taking Care of Business (3 page)

'Two men, yes,' Kate replied. 'Boy touching? Not so much.'

'Mmmmm,' Leah sighed, thinking of it happily. 'Boy touching.'

'Admit it, you're a perv.' Kate finished her drink. 'Nothing wrong with that. And if you want Band Boy over there, I say go for it. I doubt he'd know what to do with you, but go for it.'

'I think he'd know exactly what to do,' Leah said under her breath just as he turned and looked in their direction.

His eyes were dark, she could see that now. He'd been smiling again as he turned, and it sent a bolt of sheer desire straight between her legs. She'd always been a sucker for a smile.

'I bet he could trim your hedges, too,' Kate said, and they both burst into laughter again.

'Oh, shit. Shit,' Leah breathed between bouts of giggles. 'He's coming over!'

'See? I told you!' Kate wiped her eyes and tried to force away the giggles but didn't quite manage. 'He's coming to hit us up for a couple of bucks. Maybe he'll p-p-play his trombone . . .'

Leah put both hands over her mouth to hold back the semi-hysterical fit of chortles forcing their way out. He was coming over, weaving his way through the tables with effortless grace. By the time he got to the table, she only managed to get herself partially under control.

He looked back and forth between the two of them. Kate kicked Leah gently under the table and waggled her eyebrows. Leah ignored her, afraid she'd burst into uncontrolled mirth again. She cleared her throat and attempted to take her hands away from her mouth, ready to slap them back at the first sign of an errant snort.

'Hi,' the man said. Though his grin was all 'garsh, ma'am', his voice was anything but. Deep, low and entirely male, it followed the path his smile had taken straight to her centre. 'How's everything over here?'

Kate sat back in her seat but, damn her, didn't answer. She kicked Leah under the table again, a little harder this time. Leah craned her neck to look up, up, up into his face. Damn, he was long.

'Fine,' she said. 'It's fine. How're things for you?'

He looked momentarily perplexed and then, damn. The grin was back, spreading wide and bright across his face. 'Um . . . it's fine. Do you need anything else?'

Ah. He worked here. He wasn't just trying to hit on them, more was the pity. Kate made another small noise and pretended to study her glass. Leah, bolstered by a day that had begun like shit but had ended up being much better and by the alcohol too, looked up at his face.

'Well, yes,' she said and rubbed the back of her neck to prove looking up so high was giving her a pain. 'You're very tall. Sit down.'

And damn . . .

He did.

'You're very tall. Sit down.'

The woman with the dark hair spoke like she had no doubt she'd get exactly what she wanted, and Brandon did as he was told. He pulled an unused chair from the next table and sat. He watched the smile freeze on her face. She hadn't expected him to do it, he thought, and wondered why she'd told him to if she didn't believe he'd obey.

'Is this better?' He'd turned the chair around the opposite way so he could straddle it, and now he folded his hands on the back to look at her expectantly.

It wasn't Brandon's job to make nice for the guests, but the hotel manager had talked him into taking some extra shifts and he could use the cash. Taking over for Heather while she was on maternity leave had meant a lot more responsibility but no raise. Besides, it wasn't like it was hard work or he had anything better to do with his time.

'Much,' the woman said while her friend stifled a laugh.

He'd already made sure their waitress was taking good care of them, but their laughter had drawn him. They were having fun. The fact they were both smoking hot had nothing to do with it, he told himself, knowing it wasn't true. Hey, working late had to have some perks, right?

'Well, if you need anything,' he said, 'just let me know, all right?'

'Did you hear that?' the woman on his left said across the table. 'He did say anything, Leah.'

Leah. He let the name play around on his tongue but kept inside his mouth. She had an empty drink in front of her, and he knew he should ask her if she needed another but before he could her friend got up. She used his shoulder to help her get out of the booth but waved him away when he started to get up to help her.

'I'm fine,' she said. 'You stay. Leah, I'm wiped out. I'm heading upstairs.'

Leah looked at her. 'Kate —'

'No, no,' Kate said. 'You stay. Get that grass taken care of.'

Leah put a hand over her eyes briefly, shaking her head, before she looked up with a grin. 'You're so bad.'

Kate flashed him a grin he returned, and she patted his shoulder again. 'Have fun in Paris.'

He waited until she'd gone before turning back to Leah. 'Paris?'

'It's nothing.' She waved a hand. 'Private joke.'

One he clearly didn't get. 'OK.'

Behind him he heard the buzz and murmur of the crowd and knew he ought to make some more rounds. He didn't want to.

'Well, I guess I should get back to work . . .'

'Should you?' She raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her seat. 'What will happen if you don't?'

Not much, probably. Rick wasn't on duty and the front desk knew where he was in case of problems. The bar staff didn't need him looking over their shoulders.

'I could get into trouble,' he said anyway, teasing but not smiling. He wouldn't get into any trouble if he left, but he was hoping to maybe find some if he stayed.

Her smile widened. She had pretty eyes. Dark blue, he thought, though it was hard to judge the colour in the bar's dim lighting. He liked the way her mouth curved, how her lips stayed plump and didn't disappear.

'We wouldn't want that.' Her words were light, a little teasing, but he didn't mistake the hint of flirtation in them. 'You'd better get back to work.'

He didn't get up, just gave her another purposefully solemn look. 'I just have to make sure you're all taken care of first. Don't I?'

'Oh my,' she said and laughed, ducking her head before she gave him a sideways glance. 'You're very good, aren't you?'

She was good, too. Brandon leaned, not too close but just enough. 'That's up to you to decide, isn't it?'

'I'm Leah.' She held out her hand for him to shake.

'Brandon.'

'Tell me something, Brandon.' She let her mouth linger on his name and it wasn't hard for him to imagine her moaning it. 'Is this part of your job description?'

'Keeping the customers happy?' He was still holding her hand, warm and surprisingly small, in his. He was always surprised by how much smaller most women's hands were than his. 'Yes. Sure is. All part of taking care of business.'

She squeezed his fingers briefly and let go. 'I'm not the only customer here, though.'

He deliberately didn't look around at anyone else. 'They're all OK. I checked.'

'Did you?' She seemed amused.

'Sure.'

Her eyes drifted over his face and he took the chance to look over hers. She wasn't easy to judge, not like half a dozen of the other women he'd already met tonight. The ones he hadn't sat down next to. It had always been pretty easy for him to figure out what women wanted, how to give it to them . . . when he wanted to. Most of the rest of the women were here to get picked up, have drinks bought for them. Be pursued. It was part of the club-hopping game, and he didn't mind flirting with them because it made the time pass faster.

But this woman was different. He wasn't quite sure how. He thought she was flirting, but not in the coy, clumsy way he was used to. He couldn't be sure if he was turning her on or making her laugh. Maybe it was because she was older, he thought, studying her as she looked him over without pretending she wasn't. Older and more confident.

'Besides,' he added with a glance at the clock. 'I'm off duty in half an hour.'

'Really?' Her tone indicated an arch surprise. She turned her glass around and around in the circle of condensation on the table. 'That's convenient.'

Oh, yeah.

He still needed —sort of —an excuse to stay here beyond the simple fact he wanted to. 'Can I get you something else?'

'No. I'm done drinking for the night.'

'A pop? Coke, maybe?'

She laughed. 'Where are you from, Brandon?'

'What makes you think I'm not from around here?' Someone passing behind him nudged him, and he glanced back to make sure he wasn't blocking the aisle.

'You don't sound like you're from around here.'

'What gave it away?'

'Pop.' She dragged a finger through the wet circle, smearing it. 'So, where are you from?'

'Iowa.'

She leaned back to make a show of looking at his legs, all the way up again to his face. 'They grow them big in Iowa, don't they?'

It was his turn to laugh. 'Yeah, I guess they do.'

'So how'd you end up here?' she asked, but before he had time to answer she was looking over his shoulder and that pretty smile had disappeared. The light in her eyes went out, too, just like that. 'Oh, shit.'

Brandon looked over his shoulder, too, but saw only the crowd. Leah was getting up though, and he automatically stood as she did. The floor of the booth was raised a few feet, so she stood almost level with his eyes. He reached for her elbow without a second thought. He didn't want her to fall. She didn't shake him off. Her hand came down on his shoulder.

'It's my ex,' she said in a low voice.

Brandon twisted to see where she was looking as she got down. He spotted the man she meant. On first glance he'd blended in with the crowd, just one more guy in a suit with his tie pulled loose and a beer in his hand. On second look, though, it was easy to see he was looking for someone and wasn't happy about not finding her.

Brandon had seen fights in some of the clubs downtown, but never here. The Market Street Caféwasn't really the place for that sort of thing. Watching this guy catch sight of Leah, though, Brandon thought maybe tonight that would change.

'Leah.' The other guy didn't even look at Brandon. 'Come on. Come home.'

'No.' She didn't shrink away and she didn't put Brandon between them. 'I told you that before. We're over, Mike.'

Mike didn't seem to like that idea. Brandon had seen guys like this before. The ones who thought money in their wallets and a nice car entitled them to anything they wanted.

Mike held out his hand. 'Leah. Come, now.'

'No,' she said again.

This time, Brandon stepped forwards. 'Hey, buddy. She said she wasn't going with you.'

His muscles tensed, fists not quite clenching. He was taller than this jerk, if not broader. Brandon could take him, if he had to. The other guy looked at him, finally, but dismissively.

'Fuck off, junior,' Mike said. 'Leah.'

Brandon didn't move. Leah stepped past him, past Mike. She looked over her shoulder at Brandon, her expression cool and composed, though he'd felt her hand twitching on his shoulder.

'Come with me,' she said to him.

And, of course, he went.

'Leah!' Mike's voice turned heads, but not hers. She kept going, out of the bar, through the lobby, without looking back.

Brandon followed.

By the time they got halfway across the lobby, Mike had decided to come after her. He yelled her name again, and her footsteps faltered. Brandon caught up to her. He put a hand on her waist, just above her hip.

'Want me to call the police?'

'No.' She shook her head without looking around. 'He thinks he can make me do what he wants.' She looked at him then, this tall long man with the choirboy smile. 'He can't.'

'I can see that.' Brandon looked over his shoulder, but Mike had apparently decided not to bother coming after them.

She wasn't taking any chances, though. 'Walk me to my room.'

He nodded, gave another glance over his shoulder and seemed satisfied by what he saw. 'Absolutely.'

He let go of her waist when she looked down at his hand.

He stepped back. Her guts tumbled and knotted and she tasted sweat when she ran her tongue along her lip. She'd been more afraid than she'd wanted to admit, but she didn't want to show it.

'Four,' she said when they got in the elevator, and Brandon pushed the button.

He studied her as the elevator began its smooth ascent. Leah stared back. They didn't speak, and she liked that about him. He wasn't one of those guys who had to fill every space with words, or tried to impress a woman with stories. He looked at her, though, his stare intent and intense.

She felt naked under his gaze.

Leah leaned back against the elevator's mirrored wall and gripped the brass handrail. Her knees were a little weak, but was it from the confrontation downstairs, or the unaccustomed alcohol . . . or the way Brandon smelled? She breathed in, deep. Fabric softener, that was the scent. Mixed with a bit of cigarette smoke and the fainter odour of the scented candles that had been on the tables in the bar, but mostly the soft, fresh scent of something clean and warm from the dryer. It was a smell she wanted to bury her face in.

The doors opened and she stepped out without waiting for him. She didn't want to think too much about what she'd been thinking of, flirting with him downstairs. Or when she'd told him to come with her. It had all just sort of happened, even if there was no denying she wanted it to.

She pulled her key from her pocket and opened the door. Again, he followed a few steps behind. The door clicked shut after him, and Leah let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. There was a door between her and the hall, and no way Mike could get in.

'You OK?' His voice had just the right pitch of concern.

She looked. His expression echoed his words. Nice guy.

'Yeah. I just didn't expect to see him tonight, that's all.' Her stomach was still twisting. She pulled a dollar out of her purse and handed it to him. 'Would you get me a soda from the machine?'

It was a request, not a command. He took her dollar and looked at it, then at her. His smile made her feel anything but helpless.

'Sure. I'll be right back.'

He was, too, in record time. He handed her the dollar and the bottle. 'My treat.'

He'd bought one for himself, too. She cracked open the top with a 'Thank you', and sipped greedily.

'Have a seat.' She indicated the couch, curious. Wanting to see if he'd do what she'd told him to do with the same lack of hesitation as he'd done everything else since she'd met him.

Brandon sat. He drank. He watched her.

Leah's insides had started twisting for another reason. She was alone in her room with a man she'd just met, and there wasn't a doubt in her mind that she wanted him. It didn't matter that it was too soon, that it was wrong on so many levels, that she'd only be asking for trouble.

'Recent break-up?'

His words surprised her into answering without holding back. 'Yes. Today, as a matter of fact.'

Brandon took another drink. She watched his throat work as he swallowed. He screwed the cap back on his drink and set it on the side table.

'You sure you don't want me to call someone?'

She shook her head. 'No. Just . . . wait a few minutes.'

Her breath lodged in her throat when he grinned. No matter what Kate said, this guy was neither a geek nor an innocent. He might not swagger around to show off his testosterone, but then she'd recently decided she didn't really care for that, hadn't she?

'Part of the service,' he said with hands spread.

He settled them on his knees and she noted with no small thrill how big they were. How big all of him was, really. 'How tall are you?'

He tilted his head, thinking. 'Six-four?'

'You don't know?' She was surprised a laugh could escape the tightly knotted tangles inside her.

'I . . .' He ducked his head for a moment with an utterly charming shrug. 'I keep growing.'

Jesus. Her cunt actually pulsed at that, the same as if he'd swiped his tongue along her skin. Leah masked her involuntary noise of pleasure by clearing her throat.

'Thank you for coming with me, Brandon.'

He looked straight at her then, without a smile. 'My pleasure.'

Downstairs, bolstered by the booze or the crowd, this had been easier. Flirting had come as a matter of long-forgotten habit and she'd been relieved to learn she could still do it. Here, in the intimacy of her room, innuendo couldn't be misconstrued. What she said, she'd have to mean.

'He shouldn't have talked to you like that,' Brandon said suddenly.

'It's the way he always talked to me.' She sat next to him to curb her impulse to pace.

The couch was large enough for three, but when he turned to face her his legs were so long their knees brushed. Leah didn't jump. She looked at the spot where the dark fabric of his trousers touched the soft peach of her dress, and she wondered what it would be like if his fingers touched her there instead.

She looked into his face to keep from focusing on their bodies touching.

'He was always the one in charge,' she told him, the second person in a day to whom she'd revealed this when she'd said nothing to anyone about it for the entire time she and Mike were together. 'Always.'

Would he get it? Did he understand? His brow furrowed a little. He bit down on his lower lip. He wore the evidence of thinking all over his face, open and easy to read. Leah envied him that confidence to show what he was feeling. When he looked into her eyes with a small shrug, she felt like she could read his every thought. She couldn't, of course. He wasn't nearly that transparent.

'Well. Not any more, right?'

It was exactly the right thing for him to say. She didn't want sympathy. She didn't particularly even want his understanding.

'Not any more,' she agreed.

The air got thicker between them. His mouth would taste sweet. Her fingers would sink into his hair. And he'd make a sound when she pulled it.

Leah got up with one smooth motion on unsteady legs. What was going on with her? First the men in the bar, now this? She'd known there'd be some sort of reaction to her break-up with Mike, but this . . . this was just ridiculous.

'You sure you're OK?' The concern in his voice tried to crack her open, but she wouldn't let it.

Without looking at him, she grabbed the glass near the ice bucket on the small table and tossed a few mostly melted cubes into it. It gave her hands something to do.

'So, how did you get into hotel management?' she asked, keeping the question innocuous.

He laughed. 'Oh, I didn't really. I'm not the hotel manager, I was just filling in for him.'

She turned, finally sort-of, kind-of calming down. 'Oh?'

'Yeah. I'm actually the conference-services assistant manager. I just took over for my boss because she went on maternity leave.'

Her mouth opened but all that came out was a tiny hiss of air. Brandon. The clerk had said his name was Brandon, the man she was going to deal with. She hadn't even thought about it.

The glass slipped from her hand and hit the carpet where it bounced and splattered icy water on her ankles. Leah looked down, blinking, glad she hadn't poured it full of soda.

She hadn't made more than the barest gesture towards picking up the glass. She didn't have to. Brandon had moved off the couch immediately to grab it. He knelt at her feet, his fingers sliding around the slippery ice and plunking the cubes back into the glass.

At her feet.

Kneeling.

A tiny strangled sound escaped her and he looked up. He looked as though he meant to say something, but didn't. She hadn't moved. His face was so close to the hem of her dress his breath ruffled the wispy, fringy hem. His hands stilled, full of melting ice.

'I think you'd better go,' she said. 'Now.'

For a second he hesitated, the first time he'd done so. His dark eyes blinked, fast, and he took in a breath. She heard the intake of air and saw his shoulders lift with it. She saw his lips part, as though he meant to speak.

In her mind she backed away, but her body didn't move.

'Now,' she repeated, no less firmly than she had before. Only now she heard herself, really heard it, and that note of command scared her.

Brandon got to his feet, all 70,000 square feet of him. He towered over her, yet, unlike Mike who'd always made her feel small, Brandon didn't overpower her. All she had to do was recall how easy it had been for him to settle himself at her feet.

She gave a pointed look towards the door and his gaze followed hers. He gave a last look at her, but she shook her head. She said nothing. In silence, he put the glass with its clanking contents on the table and, in silence, he left the room. The click of the door was very loud behind him.

She'd always been the one on her knees. Always. She'd always thought it was what she wanted: to give up and give in. Not to be powerless, never that. But not to be the one in control, the one in charge, the one giving the orders.

That was not her.

Except maybe Kate was right.

Maybe it was.