“Robby,” Jagger interrupted. “Less talking, more action.”
“Right.” Robby shot Taylor a sheepish smile. “No worries, I’ll buy you everything from lingerie to an evening gown, though, nowadays, sexy nighties can be worn as formalwear. Sizes please.”
Jagger didn’t budge. Taylor had every right to demand privacy and step into the hallway to speak with the assistant. But Jagger had touched her, penetrated her, shared in her fantasy, and confided one of his own. Passing along garment sizes seemed insignificant when compared with all that. So, she rattled them off.
“I’m a runner and would love to take advantage of the California sunshine,” she concluded. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to squeeze in—”
“I’ve got you covered.” Robby finished jotting everything down before shouldering her carry-on bag. “I’ll drop this in your suite.” After a quick smile, he dashed out.
Alone with Jagger.
A low rumble ripped from the back of his throat, like a growl.
He’d hid his massive ego well the night they’d met, but here, on a Loving property, he was, without question, the one in control and the one with all the power. He exuded confidence. He oozed sex appeal. And she squirmed under his commanding gaze.
The giant wall clock ticked slowly compared to her speeding heart. Should she confess? Should she apologize for not telling him her real name and for vanishing the next morning?
“I’ll need your phone number.” His words were a command, not a request. “And this time, you’re going to give it to me.” Damn if he didn’t arch his eyebrow at her.
As soon as she did, her phone buzzed.
All thumbs, she fumbled in her handbag, found her phone, and read his text. “Welcome to Loving.”
“Thank you, Mr. Loving,” she murmured.
When he stepped into her personal space, her breath quickened. She wanted to nuzzle the exposed skin in the V of his white dress shirt. Those damned kissable lips would be the death of her. When she peeked up at him, he was waiting.
“Call me Jagger.” His piercing glare cut right through her. “Do you go by Taylor or is there another name you’d prefer I use?”
For a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes as the unspoken truth danced on the tip of her tongue.
Very little ruffled Jagger, but when Robby returned from the airport with Raven, his mind had stalled. Why had she flown clear across the country to see him when she’d snuck out before dawn yesterday? And what the hell had happened to his new event planner?
And then, reality kicked in. This raven-haired beauty was Taylor Hathaway, sent by Colton. He had a myriad of questions. Why did she leave? Why didn’t she jot down her number? Why continue to lie when they were alone, and why in hell had she made up that story about her aunt after he’d told her about being homeless? He’d made a judgment call that this woman was different. But she wasn’t. Would he ever learn his lesson? He wanted the damned truth, for once, and then he wanted to ship her back to Virginia.
But his back was against the wall. He needed her expertise to bail him out of an opening disaster. With calculated intensity, he repeated the question. “Do you go by Taylor or is there another name you’d prefer I use?”
“What do you want me to say?” she asked, staring into his eyes.
“The truth, this time.”
She hesitated, her sapphire eyes stirring up a volcano of need. “Taylor. My name is Taylor.”
“Thank you, Taylor. Please, have a seat.” Jagger waited until she sat in a guest chair before sitting behind his desk.
He tapped his phone console. “Yes, sir,” answered a man. “Has Ms. Hathaway arrived?”
“Yes,” Jagger replied. “Coffee and sparkling waters, please, Rico.”
“Right away, sir.” The line went dead.
Jagger’s all-business persona was laced with confidence and a chilly demeanor. On purpose. He wanted her to get the job done and go home. Being played had soured his opinion of her.
As he studied her face, he couldn’t deny her sublime beauty. Even her rigid spine and pursed lips didn’t detract. But none of that mattered now. “Taylor, I despise deceit, so I’m going to be candid. Obviously, we’ve met. We had a fun night. Do you have any plans to blackmail me or go public with what happened?”
She crossed her arms, a flash of anger darkening her eyes. “That was personal. I would never—”
He held up his hand, cutting her off. “Good. Let’s move on. Did you familiarize yourself with my resort line?”
“Yes.”
Time would tell if she were being honest. He leaned back, crossed his legs. “I made poor choices when I lived in Mexico. But thanks to my publicist and my attorney, I’m back on track. This hotel is a reflection of that. It’s the opposite of my Mexican resort, on purpose.”
A knock on the door interrupted him. “Come in.” A server rolled in a cart and set up a fruit tray and beverages on the side credenza. “Thank you, Rico.”
“Yes, sir. Good day, ma’am.” Rico closed the door on his way out.
Jagger rose. “Coffee? Can I fix you a fruit plate?”
“Just water, please.”
He poured her a glass, handed it to her.
Though Taylor smiled, anxiety laced her eyes. His resentment was replaced with a sudden urge to comfort her. Like the evening of the auction, he wanted to wrap her in his arms, then kiss her breathless. The pull he’d felt the night they’d met surged through him.
Hands off. He needed to keep his focus on work, no matter how badly he craved her. If word got out that they’d hooked up, the media would run with that. Didn’t matter that they’d had sex before she worked for him. She worked for him now.
After filling his mug with coffee, he sat in the second guest chair. To be near her. Because he couldn’t stay away.
“My event director bailed, leaving the planning team flying blind,” he continued. “Before I introduce you, we need to be on the same page. Instead of being sold out, my hotel is limping along at sixty percent occupancy. That’s unheard of for a Loving grand opening. It’s no secret that events drive sales, and we need more activities. My guests expect to be pampered, entertained and revered.”
“Then you won’t take offense at what I’m about to tell you.” After setting down the crystal glass, she rested her interlaced fingers in her lap. The atmosphere crackled with undeniable contention, while he waited for her to continue. “You’re not sold out because this hotel is like every other one in a hundred-mile radius. The Loving sizzle is missing. There’s nothing edgy or sexy happening here. If you’re not open to changing things up, I can be out of your hair and on the next flight back to Virginia.”
He gritted his teeth. Well, fuck me.
8
The Earth Moved
This situation was way worse than booking a sex event for Mitus Conglomerate because Taylor had never slept with her boss. Discussing anything erotic with Jagger felt personal. Despite fidgeting under his scorching gaze, she had to encourage him to bring back the edginess, and prove she could be trusted. Rooms wouldn’t fill until he offered some spice.
She relocated to his conference table. The furniture gave her much-needed support and put distance between them. Being so close to Jagger interfered with her concentration. She found herself staring at that damned mouth of his.
He joined her, taking his place at the head of the table.
“From what I’ve read, guests stay at a Loving resort for the sensual experience,” she began. “Your other properties are booked months in advance. This hotel is offering discounts to fill beds.”
His jaw had been set in a hard line, frustration billowing off him. Her pulse raced. She desperately wanted to change topics and discuss outdoor events like golf and tennis. Those she could handle, no problem.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked, stroking his goatee.
“I need to find out what, if anything, your staff has booked beyond the Valentine’s Day masqu
erade party. We could pull together a G-rated pajama party, along with a Singers & Standards night. For a sexier flair, I’d suggest a lingerie affair. Why not promote the private beach that welcomes nude guests? That would grab their attention.”
He pinned her with a hard stare. “And what, offer them sex on the beach?”
Heat exploded on her cheeks. He’d crossed a line. What would Raven do? “Look,” she stuck out her finger, “I confided something very personal and I don’t appreciate your throwing that in my face.” She’d never confronted anyone like that, and she cringed. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”
His expression softened, but he said nothing for a long moment. “No, Taylor, that’s all on me. I apologize.” Again, he paused, broke eye contact for a split-second. “I didn’t expect…Raven would walk through my door.” He extended his hand. “Let’s start over.”
Hearing him call her Raven bolstered her confidence. When she slid her hand into his, the familiar zing of attraction traveled up her arm. “I like that idea.”
This time, his smile touched his eyes and her rapid-fire heartbeat slowed back down. “You’re right. This resort is nothing like the others. If you read about Loving, you learned about me, too.”
“I did.”
“I won’t do anything that could tarnish my reputation.”
“Then you’ll really hate what I’m about to say next.” She nibbled her fingernail. “You need erotic entertainment.”
He grimaced. “Strippers?”
Another rush of heat swept over her and she clutched the table edge for support. “No. Sex performers.”
As his long fingers caressed his beard, she fell prisoner to the rhythmic strokes. Her breathing fell in line with his hypnotic touch. Jagger, and everything about him, was proving to be the ultimate distraction.
His harsh grunt snapped her from her fantasy. “Absolutely not.” The worry lines around his eyes had deepened.
Beneath the table, her leg bounced. He glanced under and she stilled. “Your brand is all about pushing the envelope,” she said.
“Not anymore,” he quipped.
Ignoring his objection, she forced herself to continue. Not because she wanted to belabor the point, but because she believed she was offering sound advice. “Time isn’t on our side. Since I don’t know anything about the erotic market in LA, I can check with a company in DC. They might be able to fly out some talent. Colton can vouch for the professionalism of Uninhibited, but the artists don’t hold back. It’s definitely edgy.”
“Even if I thought it was a good idea, it wouldn’t work. We can’t offer erotic shows. It’s illegal.”
“I’ve got a possible workaround. If guests purchase a membership to a private club that offers the shows to its members, then the hotel should meet the legal requirements for a private club, therefore it’s not considered illegal.”
He shoved out of the chair, laid his hands on the table, and leaned close. “Not happening.” His razor-sharp gaze cut into her.
Although jittery, she rose and faced him. “The rooms will fill, if you add the kink back in.”
The electricity swirled as the stare-down continued.
“I’ll introduce you to your team,” he said. “They’ll bring you up to speed on event bookings. Do not discuss your recommendation with them.”
After a confirming nod, she shouldered her handbag. As they walked down the hallway, she snuck in a quick glance. The lingering frustration cast a shadow across his face. His normally bright eyes were dark, his lips slashed in a thin line. Though jittery, she felt empowered that she hadn’t backed down.
Jagger introduced Taylor to her staff and left, taking the chill with him. Turning her attention on David Augustine and Adele Shapiro, she wondered how she’d manage through the next several days with a man she wanted to both throttle and throw herself on. He was inciting her last nerve while making her insides hum with desire.
The events team spent the afternoon creating “fun” activities that included a Newlywed game and “chess on the beach” using guests as live pieces. As G-rated events were added to their activities roster, she vowed to change Jagger’s mind.
At the end of the workday, Robby zoomed in with a laptop as David and Adele provided Taylor with their cell phone numbers. “Hello, hello!” Like usual, the smiley assistant was bursting with energy.
“Do you want me to use my computer?” Taylor asked.
“No can do,” Robby replied. “This has proprietary software you’ll need to access for event-planning purposes.”
Once Robby had set up her laptop, he ushered her out. “I’m dying to show you what I bought. I’ve missed my true calling. Personal shopper.”
As they rode the elevator to the top floor, Robby explained that the laborers would continue working right up until opening. “The only suites they can’t access are on this floor. So, for obvious reasons, you’ll be staying upstairs with Jagger and me.” He shot her a grin. “Wait until you see the evening gowns I found for you. You are going to look like a princess.”
The doors slid open and he escorted her toward one of two Presidential suites. After using the keycard, he opened the door. “Welcome.” He handed her the plastic card.
She entered and gasped. The magnificent view of the Pacific Ocean lay beyond the open French doors, and she paused to admire the giant orange fireball sinking into the dark waters.
A beautiful mural of Mayan gods engaging in intercourse had been painted on the living room wall. But the standout piece of hardware was a shiny gold stripper pole in the center of the room. For the first time since she’d arrived, her headache subsided. He might not publicly endorse the erotic, but he’s still promoting kinky fun behind closed doors.
Robby escorted her through the living area, stopping in front of a closed door on the far side of the suite. “This is your bedroom. You’ll need to use your keycard.” She held it against the electronic pad, the light turned green, and Robby shoved open the door.
In addition to her carry-on, the king bed was covered with boutique shopping bags. Three garment bags hung over the bathroom door. “This isn’t all for me, is it?”
He waved his hand. “All of it. Like I said, I missed my true calling. Do you think I overbought?”
She laughed. “Uh, yeah.”
“I didn’t hear from the airline. Did you?”
Taylor shook her head.
“Then, no worries if your luggage never shows. You’ve got plenty now. If you don’t like something or it doesn’t fit, let me know.”
“I’m sure I’ll love everything. You’re a total lifesaver. Really, Robby, thank you again for doing this.”
He beamed. “You’re a sweetheart. I was happy to do it. Hungry?”
“I guess. Jet lag is catching up.”
“Food and sleep, in that order. The chef is testing some of his menu items and we’re his guinea pigs. You’ll love his food. Charles is amazing.” Robby headed out.
Dropping her handbag on the bed, she followed, shutting the door behind her. “Will Jagger be joining us?”
“Doubtful. He eats in his office. The man is a machine without an ‘off’ switch.”
Disappointment curled around her heart. On the way through the living room, Taylor spotted a closed door on the opposite side of the spacious suite. “Where does that lead?”
“Jagger’s bedroom.”
“What?” And then she laughed. “You have a great sense of humor.”
Robby spun around. “Not joking.”
“Why can’t I have my own room, downstairs?”
“Like I said, the workmen will be in and out of every room but these two. But if you’re uncomfortable in any way—”
“I’m not afraid to be alone with him, if that’s what you mean. Why don’t you and Jagger share a suite?”
Robby barked out a snort. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a talker. He’d go berserk. Plus, I blare my music non-stop. No headphones. My insomnia keeps me up half the night, so I gab
with my friends or play video games. As much as I’d love to have you as my roomie, you’d never get any sleep with me. You’re better off staying here.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” she mumbled as they proceeded into the hallway.
According to the uber-chatty assistant, Jagger had lured the chef away from a trendy LA restaurant with a hefty starting bonus. Eager to set up his kitchen and prepare the menu, Charles Delateau had been working there for a few days.
The beefy man greeted them with a boisterous hello and a friendly smile before ordering them to sit at the chef’s table in the kitchen, where two bottles of wine—a Pinot Blanc and a Sémillon—awaited. Taylor envied his speed and grace as he moved about the workspace.
“Tonight, you’ll sample petite portions of several entrées,” Charles explained. “I’m incorporating favorites dishes with a few new ones that pair well with the season.” Pausing at the table, he wiped his hands on his apron. “Tell me about allergies and food restrictions, like gluten or red meat.”
“No allergies, but I won’t eat rice pudding,” Taylor said with a playful grin.
Charles laughed. “Okay. Fair enough. Robby?”
“I’m allergic to peanuts and shellfish.”
“Hmm. Stay clear of my fish appetizers. Often times, I’ll mix in lobster with my salmon.”
“What happens to you?” Taylor asked.
“I blow up like a puffer fish.” Robby demonstrated by pushing air into his cheeks. “Seriously, though, I’ve had some bad reactions and carry an EpiPen.” He shrugged. “It’s upstairs.”
“Tonight’s meats are chicken and salmon.” Charles returned to his station. “I’ll forgo the shrimp.”
After a delicious meal, Taylor acknowledged that jet lag had won and excused herself. She hoped she’d find Jagger in the suite. Though wrong, she wanted to see him in the absolute worst way.
But the suite was quiet, and loneliness settled over her.
The constant pull to be near him made her heart ache. She’d left the French doors open, and though the room was chilly, the ocean breeze felt balmy when compared with the freezing DC temps.
THE LOVING TOUCH Page 7