Oh yes. For you. “I did work up an appetite.” More like she’d gained one overnight.
“Indeed.” He stood back and adjusted his towel. “I’ll call room service.”
“No thanks. I can’t eat right now.” However, there were things to be said. “But can we talk for a second?” She lowered her head and forced her breathing to slow down.
“I’m listening.” He swung the other towel over his tan, muscular shoulder, and she couldn’t help notice the muscles bunch in his biceps too. He had the body of a young twenty- year-old, but she was certain he had to be at least in his early thirties.
Let me just look at you for a second. Her gaze sought out his chiseled abs and the trace of hair just above the towel. “Yes, I um…I need to apologize for lying to you about my name. I sort of freaked out when you asked me by the pool.”
His mouth quirked as though he were about to say something, then he glanced at his bare feet, seemingly hurt. “No need.”
“Yes, I need to. I lied. And I hate liars. Despise them.” She grabbed his hand and smiled, hopeful.
He remained quiet for a few seconds, then his eyes met hers. “Okay then, let’s start with a clean slate.” Releasing her hand, he walked to the dresser, then leaned his back against it as he scrubbed his face and sighed. “I need to tell you something, too.”
Great. Just when the air was cleared. Her pulse skipped and the blood drained from her face. “You’re married?”
“No. Nothing like that.” His cell phone rang behind him, and he glanced at the screen. “Damn it. Excuse me a second. I have to take this.” He scooped his cell from the nightstand and rushed into the bathroom. “What is it, Macon?”
A wave of coldness flowed through her. Odd. She thought she heard him say, “What is it, Macon?” There couldn’t be two Macons, could there? She shook her head. She probably just misunderstood him. He probably said “man,” not Macon.
…
“What the hell does he want this time?” Jake demanded, one hand gripping the bathroom marble countertop.
“Says he’s still looking for someone. Want me to throw his ass out?” Macon asked.
Bad fucking timing. “No. Give me five.” Jake hung up and hurried into the bedroom. He hated that he had to leave her. He had to tell her because it was eating him up, and she deserved better.
Kylie was at the door, grabbing her key from his personal concierge. She turned. “I see you called the front desk anyway. Thanks.” She sat. “I have to be somewhere.”
He sat next to her as she slipped into her heels. Heaviness settled on top of his chest. He had to tell her today. “How about lunch later?”
She stood and straightened her dress. “There’s an award luncheon in a bit—”
“Join me instead.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her wrist to his lips, kissing it. “I’d like to see you again.”
“I don’t know.” She moved toward the door. Something was bothering her. Her eyes wouldn’t meet his, her lips tight.
He followed her, and before she could pull the door open, he pinned her against it, his hands on both sides of her head. He dipped down and kissed her neck. He had to come clean. Today.
“Let me treat you to lunch or maybe more wild sex. Let me show you my real world. Who I really am.” Pleading was so not like him, but he couldn’t resist her. What the hell was wrong with him?
She turned her head, suspicious, and he took the opportunity to press his lips down the delicate slope of her neck. “You don’t play fair, Mr. Eastwood.”
So she did remember.
“I’m a man with many names.” And she would soon discover his real name. The room closed around him so he focused on her face. Even with black mascara smudged beneath her eyes and her beautiful, thick, long hair puffed out here and there she was still beautiful. He hardly knew her, but something inside of him recognized her soul. Her heart. Big sap.
“Twelve-thirty in the lobby by the jester hat fountain.” He kissed her lips once more, then stepped back and opened the door.
She narrowed her eyes. “You always get what you want, don’t you?”
“No. Not always, but one can hope.” It was hard to let go of her, knowing she could find out at any second. He’d never get another chance with her, but he did let go. He watched her disappear into the private elevator just outside of his door. Kylie was different. He knew she was out of her element last night, drinking several shots. And the way her friends drilled him about his info, he almost slipped and told them who he was.
Today everyone would know, including Ky.
She had told a white lie about being Ashlyn, so she’d understand…or so he tried to convince himself. His conscious wasn’t buying it, and she probably wouldn’t either.
But at least now he knew for sure she didn’t have any ulterior motives. She didn’t know who he was. This was the first time he’d allowed himself to be with a woman in a while—especially with a woman who had no idea who he was. The last semi-relationship he had, Julia, had been entirely set up. She hadn’t really broken down by the airport road. The road he took every weekend to fly his plane. She’d researched everything about him. His likes and dislikes. Everything. Bitch. And when he refused to marry her after her fake pregnancy, the real truth came out. It wasn’t even your baby. It was Mark Williams’s. But Ky didn’t know the real him. The millionaire. And his money might turn her away. Was that what he was so attracted to? That she’d rather he be someone normal with an average job. Maybe.
But he also enjoyed her free spirit, her goofy dancing, and her needing to be honest with him. A twinge started in his chest, the guilt growing with each breath he took. He had to see her as soon as possible.
…
Kylie stared at her look-what-the-dog-just-dragged-in reflection on the private, stainless steel elevator door. “Oh. My. God.” Her cheeks flamed. “Macon kissed this troll? Oh, God.” She quickly prayed she’d make it to her room without anyone seeing her. She was a few feet from her door when a woman she thought she recognized—worse off than herself—backed out of a room across from hers, heels and wig in her hand. Kylie hadn’t meant to, but she paused. Lady Gaga? The woman ducked when she noticed Kylie. Kylie blinked. I think I just saw Lady Gaga. No way. Gaga would surely be staying in a penthouse, not on the fourteenth floor. Maybe it was just an author dressed as Gaga? Probably.
Neither said anything, but both lowered their make-up smeared faces and rats’-nested heads instead. Who was she to judge after the night she’d just had? Her stomach quivered just thinking about all those places they’d had mind-blowing sex.
Another door opened from down the hall. She was pretty sure this was someone she’d seen at the publisher’s party. Geesh. Doesn’t anyone sleep late anymore? Crap.
She hurried, closed her door, and dropped on her bed. A quick cat nap was in order before her meeting. She woke, then showered and dressed in her best business suit. It was time for her A-game. Knock the management department for a loop. Kill ’em by design. She liked that. Maybe she could start on her own firm if her dad didn’t give her the senior designer position and kick asshole Billy to the curb. Just wait until she saw that meddling idiot when she got back.
Time for a fresh start. As confident as she was in her skills as a designer, her nerves still bounced around like kernels in a popcorn machine.
Someone knocked. “Come in.”
The door opened and Sara stuck her head through. “Woman, we’ve been looking all over for you.”
“I told you where I was because I lost my key and had to wait on a new one, and I really don’t have time to talk about it right now.” Kylie slipped into her black heels. “My meeting starts soon.”
“We knew where you were, but when we tried to come up to get you we weren’t able to. You have to have a special card or some kind of code for that floor.”
“Oh. Sorry. You should have just called.”
“We did. We finally spoke to Macon.”
“Really? Well,
as much as I’d love to hear this story, I gotta go.” She walked away.
“Meet us by the pool when you’re finished.”
Ky nodded. “Have my Banana Orgasm ready.” She giggled to herself, thinking about when she was the banana-eating orangutan with Macon. She was pretty sure she left a few bite marks. “I might need it after the meeting.” Kylie stood, grabbed a ChapStick off of the dresser, and layered it across her still-tingling lips.
Ashlyn pushed her way through the adjoining door and plopped on the already-made bed. “Speaking of orgasms. How many?”
“I don’t kiss and tell.” She leaned forward and shoved Ash’s feet off her bed.
“You never really had much to tell before now,” Ash said, and a wicked grin grew on her lips. “But we’re hoping this time was different.”
Kylie pulled her long hair into a slick ponytail. “Let’s just say I never knew what I was missing.”
“I knew it. Macon said you passed out and nothing happened.”
“He did?” She couldn’t believe he’d told her friends nothing had happened, and it surprised her that they had asked. Well, maybe he just volunteered that nothing had—at the time. The thought that he’d protected her reputation warmed her. That man was a true gentleman—though, not in bed. In bed he was a wild tiger.
“We got worried when we couldn’t get to your floor. So after you didn’t answer your phone, we called Macon to check on you. You were snoring through the phone,” Sara said. “Loudly.”
Humiliated, her face heated. “Oh, God!” That must’ve been after their chat and before she’d woken up from a short nap. Before the best-she’d-ever-had sex. “He never mentioned I snored.” He must have gotten a good laugh.
Ash jumped off the bed. “So after you slept your buzz off, then bam, huh? How many bams was it?”
Geesh. Ash sounded as hard-up as Kylie used to be—and would be again as soon as she left Vegas. It wasn’t likely she could find a lover like Macon soon. “Not telling, and ‘bam’ puts it mildly,” she said.
She still couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to go to Macon’s room instead of waiting in the lobby for her new key. She paused. She still couldn’t believe that the room was his. No way could he afford that.
She’d get to the bottom of it later today. But no matter what, she had the best time of her life. After seeing Brett, it helped push her boring ass over the edge, and unfortunately she’d needed more than alcohol to bury the pain. She smiled. Happily, Macon was just the man to do it. Not at first, but once he agreed, he really agreed.
She had nothing to worry about with Macon. She was having a fun time for the first time without a care in the world. It amazed her that in bed, the blue-collar man had as much power as a CEO. Yet he wasn’t greedy at all. He made sure she was more than satisfied before he let her satisfy him. She shook her head. She had to stop thinking about him and sex if she were to nail her meeting. “Crap. I gotta go. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck. Knock ’em dead,” Sara said.
“We wanna know all about the sex when you meet us later,” Ash added. “Spare no details.” She winked. “And don’t forget we have the grand Masquerade Ball tonight.”
“Right. The ball.” Kylie grabbed her cell phone and turned it on. Since the ex-jerk had showed up last night she could finally listen to her messages without freaking out at hearing his voice. She really needed to see if she’d missed any important messages from her father. She glanced at the number of voicemail messages. “Forty-eight,” she whispered. “Crap. I don’t have time.” She clicked the phone to silent and threw it back in her purse.
Grabbing the samples and design boards, she rushed out of the room and hit the elevator button for the tenth floor. Butterflies looped in her stomach like they were caught in a tornado.
“You can do this.” Hold your head up and make Daddy proud. No. Make yourself proud.
Chapter Seven
Jake found Macon waiting near the check-in counter in the hotel lobby. “Where is he?”
Macon shook his head. “Gone.”
“Did he say who he was looking for this time?” Jake crossed his arms.
“Just like before, looking for someone, but again, didn’t say who. He’s up to something, Jake. And I’m not certain it’s the staff he wants this time.” Macon turned to the clerk and gave her orders to print pictures of Mark Williams and to hand them out.
What else could it be? Was he still pissed that his ex-fiancée left him for Jake? That shouldn’t be it. Mark knew what the bitch was up to. Jake combed the busy lobby worried that his competitor or his flunkies were talking to his guests and passing out free drink coupons or some such bullshit to lure them to the new casino next door.
Sadly, Mark also still held a grudge from when they worked together a long time ago. Jake had gotten the promotion that Mark had thought was his. He’d never gotten over it, and it burned him up, seeing Jake climb to the top. Jake had only climbed to the top and then bought out the company because he was a hands-on type of boss. No, it’s because you like control over everything.
His cell phone reminder alarm buzzed. Shit. He knew he was forgetting something important when he woke up. It wasn’t like him to be this off. Kylie. His nine a.m. meeting with the design management team. He swallowed. How the hell was he going to handle this? Shit. He’d have to tell his staff to cancel the meeting and reschedule with her later.
“Keep an eye out, Macon.” Jake stepped into his elevator and pressed the tenth-floor button. The metal doors closed, then swung open a few seconds later. His secretary stood a few feet from the door awaiting his arrival.
“Mr. Royale, can I see you for a minute?” Bonnie pulled him to the side as soon as he stepped out.
He didn’t like her nervous tone. “Can it wait? I need to see Carol before the design meeting starts.”
Bonnie had been with him for seven years, and he valued her more than she would ever know. She knew his moves before he did.
Bonnie bit her lip and shook her head. “No. I really need to talk to you now. Before—”
Jake glanced toward the conference room, the door was shut. Had they started early? Was Kylie in there? His fists tightened. “First, I need you to do something for me.”
…
Kylie spread her color boards, flooring, and wall finish samples across the long wooden conference table. Carol and a man named Tad followed her as she sorted them.
“I’m impressed,” Carol said, her hand sliding over the carpet tile sample. “Mr. Royale will love this color scheme.” She pointed to the pretty green color chart that she’d named Forest. The hues made a relaxing atmosphere, as though one were enjoying a walk in a beautiful park.
“That’s my favorite too, but I brought a second option just in case.” She started to feel a little less nervous as she pushed the other option on the side of the first.
“He’ll go for this bronze chart,” Tad said, raising the samples off the table to get a closer look. “Unless—”
“Maybe we could do both,” Kylie said. “I like the bronze for the casino and the green for the hotel. Mix both colors within the flooring and draperies, and—”
The door swung open and Kylie straightened herself. This was her moment. She couldn’t wait to meet the Jake Royale. Please like my designs.
A woman who resembled Meryl Streep in “The Devil Wears Prada” movie stepped in the room. Darn.
“Mr. Royale had to cancel. An emergency has come up.”
Disappointed, Kylie faked her smile anyway. “Oh. Would he like to reschedule? I’ll be here until Sunday.”
Meryl scrolled through an iPad, searching Mr. Royale’s schedule. “He’s booked through the week, but I know he wants to meet with you. I’ll get back in touch with you later today.”
Ky literally felt her posture slouch over. No. No. Stand tall. A minor setback is all. “Okay. Thank you.”
The woman began to close the door when Kylie peered down the hall and noticed a man who looke
d exactly like Macon from the back. She waited for him to turn, but he never did and the door slammed shut. Was the surveillance office up here as well?
“Enjoying your stay?” Carol asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Very much. Mr. Royale has a magnificent hotel and the staff is great,” she said. “I met a few of the employees, one yesterday, maybe you know him. Macon?”
“Of course. He’s our Chief of Surveillance. Sort of a sergeant military type personality.”
Kylie tilted her head. Not with her. “Really? I didn’t get that.” Were they talking about the same Macon? Macon did have a slight air about him, though she just figured it came with his position of being in charge of security. He seemed confident in himself. There was nothing wrong with that. There must be two Macons. That explains why she thought she heard him say Macon on the phone.
“Where’d you meet him?” Carol asked.
“Officially, I met him by the pool. Then last night we sort of bumped into each other,” she said. More than once. She didn’t say where. She didn’t want to get him into trouble.
“Macon was by the pool? That’s odd. He usually observes the casino area only—unless there is a problem.”
“Really? How odd.” Well, he certainly didn’t mind it the other day when he came to apologize to her. Carol glanced at Tad and nodded. There must be two. Ask them.
Kyle gathered her designs and handed them to Carol. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything. “Can you take care of these for me?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll show Mr. Royale your designs and let you know what we decide before you leave.”
“I’d still love the opportunity to present them to him myself if he has a cancellation.” She hated leaving the office without meeting him. Damn.
“Nice meeting you, Tad.” She and Carol walked into the hall.
They stopped near the elevator door. “I think he’s going to love your ideas. You’ll hear back from one of us real soon.”
Masquerading With the CEO Page 6