She hurried off the stage and onto the dance floor. Ash and Sara scooted a few feet away. Were they embarrassed to be seen with her? She giggled. Serves them right. They danced with the other women, facing the other way. She began to swing her hips again as another singer belted out “I Will Survive.” Probably one of the favorites of all karaoke singers.
“Turn around,” a man whispered. The heat of his breath tickled her ear. Macon had finally come to her. Yes! He obviously wasn’t turned off by her singing.
A tingle raced down her spine, but she acted as though she hadn’t heard him and continued dancing. A swirling heat deep in her belly urged her to play a little hard to get. Wasn’t that what women did? Well, maybe not this crowd. She bit her lip and slowly turned. She stopped mid-hip roll and gasped. Anger quickly replaced her shock, and darts shot from her eyes. Well, if her eyes could’ve, they would’ve. A disgusted snort escaped her.
Ash’s voice reached her above the loud music. “What the hell is he doing here?”
Chapter Five
Kylie twisted around at Ash’s harsh tone. The high wedged shoes she’d borrowed from Sara sent her toppling forward, and she almost fell right on top of her ex-fiancé, Brett McAllister. What was he doing here? How did he even know where to find her?
“Hey, baby girl,” Brett said and grabbed at her waist.
“What the hell, Brett?” Her pulse skyrocketed, and she jerked back.
“Come home, sweetheart. I miss you.” He reached out again, but Kylie inched away from him.
She shook her head and swayed. Ash caught her elbow. “No. No. No. You leave. Wasn’t I clear enough? I never want to see you again.”
“Clear? How could you be clear? We haven’t talked since you stood me up at the altar. You could’ve at least showed up and then called it off. You could’ve at least answered my calls. It was humiliating enough that I had to call your father’s office and beg Billy for your whereabouts.”
Damn Billy! People began to stare as though she were the asshole. Her mouth tightened. How dare he? She tried to leave, not wanting a scene, but he shifted in front of her. She was stuck unless she outran him. Not likely in these shoes. Screw it. Stand up for yourself. Don’t worry about what other people think. “Stood you up, Brett? Argh. Leave before I tell everyone you screwed my ex-best-friend, my maid of honor.”
Ash and Sara moved forward. “Get the hell out of here, you douche,” Ash jabbed his arm with her index finger.
Painful memories burst through Kylie’s buzz, killing every ounce of fun she’d had tonight. Damn him.
“Go home, Brett,” Sara yelled over the music. “She doesn’t want you here.”
Brett didn’t budge. “Not until she talks to me. Not until I know why she left.”
Kylie blew out a breath, which sounded more like a raspberry with plenty of juice. Screw it. He deserved a little spittle. “Seriously? You want to know why?” Kylie stepped forward. “What is it with you CEO ass-wipe types? I don’t owe you shit.” Her finger poked hard at his chest. “I’m done with you and your kind. I’m through with relationships, period.”
Her eyes watered, but she blinked the tears back. He would not get a drop out of her. No man would. Ever again. You aren’t being fair to the few good men out there. She guessed that was just tough.
Jake watched as a guy eased close behind Ashlyn and his stomach tightened. Who the hell is this asshole? Jake slid out of his VIP table and made his way in her direction, just in case she needed backup.
“It’s over, Brett,” Ashlyn said. “Leave and take every other executive dipshit in here with you and get on a one-way flight to hell. I hate all you jerks!”
Jake planted himself in front of the guy, grabbed the dick’s arm, and twisted it behind his back. “You heard the lady. Get the fuck out and don’t come back.”
Jake shoved him toward the exit, where Macon took over, and then walked toward Ashlyn. Her words sunk in and hit solid. Now he realized what her problem was. She hated CEO-types. Shit. There went his chance, if ever he had one.
“You okay?” What had this asshole done to her? The hurt and hate clearly shone through her eyes. He wanted to pulverize the idiot just for making her upset.
She nodded. “Y-yes. Thank you. I’m so glad you’re not like those stupid stuffed suits. You’re helpful and actually care if you hurt somebody, I’m sure.” She wobbled on her feet and he steadied her. Her gaze observed his black jacket and black slacks. “Well, you look good in a suit, but um, er, you aren’t like them, um, I mean… I need another shot.” She glanced at his hand on her bare arm.
“Thanks?” Shit. Telling her the truth would end things before they started. Best to leave it where it was and see where the chips fell. She was only here for a few days anyway. What could it hurt?
“Ladies, I’d like to buy this pretty, drunk woman a cup of coffee. We’ll be right over there.” He nodded to his secluded reserved spot.
Smiles filled the women’s faces. “Coffee is a great idea. Have fun, Ky,” the woman named Sara said, “Don’t hurt her or you’ll have to answer to us.”
“She’s in safe hands. I promise.” Then he glanced at the tipsy woman hanging on to his arm. “Ky?” He’d known she’d lied about her name, and it irritated him at first, but it wasn’t as if he could throw stones, since he’d done exactly the same.
“Kylie. Ky. I answer to both,” she said with less of a slur than a moment ago.
He smiled, and then sat next to her. “Like K.Y.”
“Huh?” Her brows lowered, as did her stare. Her cheeks flushed. “Oh.”
He laughed when she finally caught on and blushed.
His waitress came by, and Kylie insisted on another shot instead of coffee, but he shook his head. “Bring coffee,” he ordered.
“He had some nerve showing up here. You’ve no idea what he did to me. Two-timin’ bastard.”
“If he cheated on you then you are better off without him.”
Her gaze met his. “I see that now, but when I found out on my way to my wedding, it hurt like someone stabbed me in the heart.” She lowered her head. “The bastard cheated on me with my maid of honor, he never cared about me. I should have seen the signs. Brett’s love was for money and power. His family had both.” She slammed her fist on the table. “He thought I would be a good little housewife. Well, screw him! That is so not me.”
No wonder she was getting drunk. “You still love him?”
Ky groaned. “That’s none of your business.” She glared. “What is love anyway? ’Tis the question.” She rested her forehead on top of the table.
“’Tis the question. I agree. Love is an emotion that hurts a lot of people.” Like when his dad ran out or like when his ex-fiancée Julia emptied his bank account and left him. He scrubbed his face and then smiled at Kylie as her head drooped lower. “Hello? Darlin, you awake?” He brushed a strand of her silky hair away from her face.
She lifted her head and grinned. That amazing smile was like a sucker punch to his gut. “No. I realize it now. I didn’t love him. I loved the idea of being married. I loved the idea of waking up in a man’s arms for the rest of my life. What an idiot I was.” She blew a raspberry, like he’d seen her do to her ex a moment ago. “Stupid, huh?”
Damn. The honesty Kylie freely offered him cut through a layer around his protected heart, but at the same time made him feel guilty for not being as honest with her. “Not stupid at all.” He’d had similar desires but never indulged in them. “I like you, Ky.”
Those long eyelashes of hers batted away at him. “You do?”
While her hand rested next to his on top of the table, he slowly eased his fingers over of hers. Warmth spread through his cold palm. He snuck a glance at her and caught her staring at their connection or had she noticed his watch? “It was a gift.” No doubt it would appear odd that security could afford such a lavish Rolex.
Those beautiful suspicious eyes met his. “Know what I’d like?” she asked.
His fingers entangled between her delicate long ones, enjoying the feel of her skin, then he flipped her hand over and circled his thumb over her palm. “No. Tell me.”
“I’d like to…wake up with you in the morning.” A hint of longing appeared in her gaze. He recognized it because he saw the same sullenness in the mirror every day, but he never wanted to admit it.
Jake was taken back a little by her openness, but the idea had already crossed his mind though it was more of a fantasy. “You really wouldn’t. I’m a little grumpy in the morning.” He kissed her forehead, knowing she was still buzzing and wouldn’t remember much later.
“See. Told you I’m full of stupid ideas. Stupid. Stupid.” She raised her cup of coffee and swallowed. “My head is spinning.”
No. He would be the stupid one if he took her back to his room and took advantage of this beautiful, brokenhearted, drunken woman. Her head brushed against his arm. What was it about her that appealed to him so much? It wasn’t just her beauty on the outside; there was something deep within her that called to him. She woke a part of him that had been asleep for many years. Don’t do it. “Damn it. Stay here.”
He told her friends he was taking her to her room so she could sleep off the buzz. They warned him they would gather all the authors and beat the shit out of him if he hurt their friend, and then they instructed him to tell Kylie they were heading to the club if she needed them.
He agreed, rushed back, and she was gone.
His heart dropped. Where the hell was she? Shit. What if that asshole came back? What if he hurt her? His fist tightened at the thought. If something happened to her he would… Surprised by his thoughts, he realized it wasn’t just the situation—it was the woman in the situation. Someone whistled and he saw Macon at the bar with Ky. She waved. Adorable. “Ky, I’m taking you back to your room.”
“I saw her heading this way and followed her just in case,” Macon said as he stepped back. Jake caught him eyeing the cute DJ for a quick second and then Macon gave him a sympathetic shrug. “Got yourself a real winner, huh?”
“I’m not normally like this, guys, so stop talking as though I’m incoherent,” Kylie pointed at Macon.
“That guy you dragged out of here was her ex-fiancé.” Jake said to explain her actions.
“Rebound. So that makes you safe, right?” Macon nodded. “Got it.”
“Shut up. You’d have a hard time trusting people too if you were in my shoes,” Jake said, then turned to Kylie. “I’ll meet you by the door in a second. Stay right there, okay?” He turned back to Macon. “Stop being an asshole.”
“Then stop hiding behind your money.” Macon punched him on the shoulder. “I’d love to be in your shoes. Wait. I am aren’t I? At least where she’s concerned.” He smiled.
“I’ll tell her the truth soon enough.” But Macon wouldn’t really want to be him. Maybe now, but not back then. No one really knew the hell he’d been through growing up. Sure Macon had seen a few of the bruises in the school’s locker room, but Jake had always blown it off, saying he’d fallen. He couldn’t admit to anyone what his mother’s boyfriend had truly done. And once he did stand up to him, it only got him knocked out cold, and his mother ended up in the hospital with several broken ribs.
Jake left Macon standing there. “Let’s get out of here, honey.” Ky nodded and leaned against his shoulder.
They reached her floor, and she dug into her small purse. After a few seconds she glanced up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t believe it. I lost my key.”
Jake thought about her ex stealing it from her purse and then showing up in her room later tonight. No. There was no way he’d let him hurt her again. “Call your friends and tell them you are coming with me until we get your room rekeyed.”
Her mouth dropped and then closed. “I can’t put you out like that.”
Little by little he watched as she sobered up. “I insist.”
More suspicion crossed her face. “What is your room number so I can give it to them?”
After she hung up from arguing with her friends who had insisted on ending their night for her, she won the argument. “They like you but they don’t trust you,” she said as they walked down the corridor.
He slid the access card across the barcode on his personal elevator then pushed his door open. “Here we are.”
She gasped, and then lifted a brow as though not believing her eyes. “Looks nothin’ like my room. How on earth can a guard afford this?” She paused. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“I’m not exactly a guard. And yes. Some can.” He silently laughed and watched her pluck at the mask feathers around her face. “Some afford lots of things.” Macon did. Bastard.
She bunched her lips to the left as though she didn’t believe a word he’d said. “If you say so.” She turned in a complete circle. “Well, I’ll tell ya. When I’m done with dis’ cat-zena’ it’s all going to look betta,” she mumbled, and then raised her hands in the air, circled around once more and wobbled slightly.
A laugh threatened to burst at the way she imitated a drunken orangutan.
Her speech sounded slightly better, but she definitely needed to sleep off this buzz before the head pain hit. He helped her into his bedroom and sat her on the edge of the bed. “Now tell me again what’s going to look better?”
“Ca-si-no.” She took her time with each syllable. “The hotel. I got new colors. New dee-signs. Pretty ones.” She glanced down. “I’m so dry here.”
He coughed, covering a laugh. What had she just admitted? “Dry? Where?” If it was where he’d thought she’d meant, he certainly could take care of that—once she sobered a little more.
She shoved her palms in his face. “See. Dry.”
“Oh.” Maybe he was just distracted by her tight red dress clinging to those gorgeous curves. He repeated what he thought she’d said. “I think you said casino, designs, dry skin—is that right?”
“Yep. I’m a designer. I hope to be here, anyways.” Her cheeks turned a bit rosy when she smiled with that adorable lop-sided grin. “You have lotion?” Her smile faded.
He arched his left brow. “Yes. But I’m confused. What casino designs?” Kylie. Kylie. “Wait. You’re not with Edwards Designs are you?”
“How’d you know my last name?” She yanked her mask off. “I need lotion.”
Shit. The interior designer. “You’re with Edwards Designs? The designer.” Boy am I screwed.
“Yes. Yes. Yes.” She nodded. “It’s gonna be beautiful.” She dropped back on the comforter with a light thud. “Nice bed.”
“I’ll be right back.” Damn. Of all people, why had it been her he found intriguing and tempting? There goes my cover. A part of him was glad. The lie was eating him up. He hurried to his bathroom, grabbed a bottle of lotion, quickly put a K-cup in the coffee machine, and rushed back. Now he had no choice but to tell her who he was—sooner than later. Not yet though.
“I bet it won’t be as beautiful as you though.” That was true. The woman looked like an angelic devil in that red dress, sprawled over his bed. He sat next to her, then poured lotion into his hands. “Here let me. Give me your hands.”
She hesitated, licked her lips, and raised her arms. “Will too.”
It took a second to remember they were talking about the designs. “Will not.”
The lotion warmed as he slid the liquid over her smooth hands, wrists, and then to her arms. Why had she thought they were dry? Her skin felt like the finest silk, and Holy Mother of God, how he enjoyed touching, squeezing the liquid in between her fingers. It made him want to slide his hands over more delicate places. “Nothing can be as beautiful as you, Kylie Edwards.”
“I tell you my last name?” She rose on her elbows.
He smiled. “A few minutes ago, remember?” He sat on the bed, ran more lotion along her sexy shoulders, eased down her arms, and stopped at her hands. “Feel moist yet?”
Her mouth formed a cute little O as her eyes filled with
desire. “Very.” She made a goofy attempt at a wink. “And hot too.”
What he wouldn’t do to kiss those perfect plush lips. “Would you like me to turn the air conditioner on?” His fingers intertwined with hers. Why did that feel so right? Sure she was a bit tipsy. But she was fully aware of him holding her hand, because she focused as his fingers rubbed the center of her palm.
“That’s not what I meant.” Off guard, she shot off the bed and backed him into his dresser. “I wanna dance. I can’t sing, but I’m good at dancing.” She frowned. “But then you took me away from the dance floor and made me drink coffee.”
Had he made a mistake interfering? He hoped not. It didn’t matter. He didn’t like seeing that other man near her. Ex or not. He twisted them around so she was backed up against the dresser. “Yes. On that note, I’ll be right back.”
He came back to the room with a cup in his hand. “Has anyone told you that you act like an orangutan when you’re half-drunk?” he asked softly. “You dance like a cute orangutan in heat too.” He pinned her with arms on each side of her so she couldn’t escape. Not that she acted like she wanted to. His mouth drifted closer to hers, and he placed the coffee behind her on the dresser.
“A what?” she asked right before he brushed her lips. She arched back and frowned. “Did you call me a monkey?”
He reached behind her, turned on his Bose radio and a soft Motown oldie “My Girl” filled the room. “Drink this coffee, then we dance.”
She smiled. “You keep feeding me coffee and I won’t be able to fall asleep.”
“Drink,” he ordered.
After she finished, he took the cup and placed it behind him. “May I have this dance, Clyde?”
“Clyde?” It took her a moment, then it registered on her face and she giggled. “Oh. I remember that old movie. My mom loved Clint Eastwood.” She grinned, but sadness flashed briefly in her gaze. “And yes. You may, Mr. Eastwood. As long as you think I look better than Clyde.”
Masquerading With the CEO Page 4