Yes. Longer, if she could manage it.
His face blurred as his mouth moved closer and she was sure he was going to kiss her. Maybe the spider knew what it was doing after all. Or maybe she’d fallen from the attic and she was alone and unconscious, because things like this didn’t happen to her.
“What are we doing, Elsa?” His voice was low, his eyes mesmerizing. “And why do you smell so delicious?”
“Bailey,” she whispered right before his lips reached hers.
Everything stopped. Not time, or the earth—because he wasn’t kissing her—but everything else. Why wasn’t he kissing her?
He straightened, taking his lips even further away while she tried not to look disappointed. “What did you say?”
What had she said? “Bailey? That’s my name.”
“I thought it was Elsa.”
And he was upset that it wasn’t? She was confused. “I’m guessing you don’t watch a lot of Disney?”
He answered with a glare, so she assumed that was a no. The unforgiving expression shook her out of her lust-hypnosis and reminded her of her precarious situation. She was alone with a stranger. In her pajamas. She’d literally thrown herself at him and he’d almost kissed her, but she had no idea why he was here or how he’d gotten inside after she’d locked the door.
“Why are you here? Did you need a room for the night?”
“Why would I need a room?”
“This is an inn. Why else would you come here?” She gave him a little nudge with her elbow. “Are you going to set me down now?”
“You’re Bailey Wagner.” It was more accusation than question. And he still wasn’t letting her go.
“According to my driver’s license,” she said warily. She hadn’t told him her last name. “I thought we covered that already.”
“Ms. Wagner is the manager here. The one in charge of budgeting, marketing, hiring and concierge service. A one-woman juggernaut, according to the previous owner. I was expecting someone… But you’re…” He looked around the hallway, as if searching for the right word. “Naked.”
Well damn.
“And then the lumberjack knight opened his mouth, forcing the capable woman— who was only temporarily in distress—to beat him with the nearest heavy object she could find until he let her go. The end.” She hid her disillusionment by trying to wriggle out of his arms with as much grace as possible. It wasn’t working—on either count. “Seriously, you can put me down now. And I prefer innkeeper to manager. In addition, for the record, not actually naked.”
Her first instinct was on target. No matter how handsome he was or how devastating to her equilibrium, this man was an asshole.
Chapter Two
“Maybe we can forget I said that and remember the time when I caught you in your hour of need?” he suggested, though his apologetic smile was more of a grimace.
“You’ve already been thanked for that. Or was someone else squeezing my ass?”
He lowered her until her feet touched the floor, then stepped back with his hands flexing at his sides. “Point taken. Your forehead is bleeding.”
Bailey reached up to touch the scrape and winced. She’d forgotten about that already. “I hit my head when you surprised me. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
Unfortunately, the “not nothing” wasn’t enough to distract her from taking inventory of the rest of him. He really was the whole package. A clean-cut, larger-than-life kind of package. Big and disconcertingly attractive. He loomed and towered like a Viking, but his white buttoned-down shirt was pristine, clearly custom made, which told her he pillaged from a corner office instead of a longship.
Everything about the ruggedly classy mountain made her heart race, even though he wasn’t in the same universe as her type. His body might hint at Hercules, but the rest of him screamed, “Gone fishing. On my yacht. Probably with a model.”
Men like him always made a beeline for the fancy resort in the canyon. Some never came into town or got anywhere near her quaintly broken-down, if centrally located, establishment. Was that it? Was he lost? “You haven’t told me who you are or why you’re here.”
“No, I haven’t.” His hand rose toward her forehead, but then he hesitated, scrubbing his fingers over the mouth he’d almost kissed her with instead. “You should put something on that soon. Who knows what’s been living up there with your spider?”
“That spider was only visiting, but I’ll get right on it.” Because she hadn’t been taking care of herself since she could walk, she thought sarcastically. She tugged her shirt down over her boxers, her professional courtesy smile wearing thin. “Right after you answer my question.”
“Business.” The tic in his jaw was barely noticeable, but she caught it. He didn’t want to tell her. Why?
She stared him down until he relented. “I came here about the inn’s recent acquisition.”
“About… Oh. That.” Well, that settled it. What she’d seen couldn’t be Dani’s spider. Her friend’s visitation had ended in a hot-and-heavy make out session with her roommate, Liam, that led to true love. This was more like Bailey’s luck. An almost, not quite, whole lot of nothing.
The spark that had flared to life the instant he touched her refused to die in the face of this new reality, but she was determined that it would. He wasn’t her knight or a Ewan substitute. He wasn’t her wish or a helpful handyman. He was the new owner’s flunky.
Was the flirting a test? She wouldn’t put it past him after the stories she’d heard. “I was told to expect someone this week, but I thought it would be during regular business hours.” Silly me. “Is there something wrong with the car rentals? The house?”
“I don’t think so.” He clearly didn’t approve of her defensive reaction. “Our flight was delayed, so I haven’t seen the place yet, but I’m told it’s all we asked for and more.”
“We aim to please. So—”
“Why don’t you have a security system in place?”
The inquisition had begun. “Because in all the time I’ve worked here, there’s never been a break-in. I have good neighbors.” And no money in the budget for an alarm.
“What neighbors?” He raised a brow. “Most of the buildings around you are businesses that close overnight.”
“Our prime location is a selling point for some guests, and Candle Joe lives above his shop. He’s right across the street if I need him.” Sure, he was seventy and half-blind, but he knew how to use a phone as well as anybody else.
“Do you need Candle Joe often?” Did he sound jealous? For a second, she swore he was growling.
“Not for security,” she informed him sweetly. “In case of emergency, I also have a bat named Slugger under my bed.”
His eyes widened. “You have a bat. That’s your answer. What about a night clerk?”
Was he kidding? “Maybe she’s on her lunch break with our on-call massage therapist. He works in the spa next to the indoor pool.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm, Ms. Wagner.” His jaw was so tight she was worried he might crack his pretty teeth. “I’m being serious.”
“I can see that, but I’m it, Boot Boy,” she said impatiently. “Once I close up for the night, it’s just me, myself and I. And Slugger. It’s been that way for over a decade and the guests and the good silver have always been perfectly safe. No one gets in without my knowing about it.”
“I did.”
“Are you a well-dressed burglar? Do you have a spare key?” Bailey almost growled herself when he shook his head with a superior smirk after each question. “Then I don’t get it. I— Oh, forget it. I refuse to be interrogated like this.”
“We finally agree on something.” The pulse at his temple fascinated her. “Why don’t I wait downstairs in your office while you put some clothes on?”
The most edible man she’d ever laid eyes on was asking her to be less naked, and he was one of Cameron Locke’s henchmen. Her night could not get any better.
She imagined the report he’d be giving the new owner in the morning. Inappropriately dressed. Leaves doors unlocked. Shamelessly dangles from ceiling and drooled all over my fancy shirt.
It was so unfair. It had been years, and she’d really wanted to climb that mountain and lick his chin dimple.
“Well?” he prompted roughly.
For some reason, the further that stick went up his behind, the more she wanted to mess with him. Maybe it was payback for that almost-kiss. Her dry spell had made her vengeful.
“It’s adorable that you think I have an office.” She pointed at the attic door on the ceiling that he was tall enough to touch without stretching. “Why don’t you close that up and follow me?”
Bailey didn’t wait to see if he obeyed before racing down the stairs. Her determination to hate him was already being tested as she realized she was leading him to her bedroom. She wished it was to tie him up and show him the error of his asshole-ish ways instead of getting him away from the guest rooms and putting on pants.
It was a good visual, Boot Boy’s wrists tied to her bed. His massive frame would be too big for the dinky thing, so she’d have to crawl on top of him to get him completely undressed.
A ball of hot need lodged in her belly.
Enough. She’d revisit that scenario later. With her vibrator after he left.
Her door was still ajar from the mad dash to the attic. She’d almost forgotten the ominous sounds that had woken her and made her think the roof was caving in. The sounds that had stopped the same moment the ladder collapsed beneath her weight.
Then along came the spider. And Boot Boy. Was it really a coincidence?
He works for the enemy. This is not your guy.
She snagged a pair of folded jeans from the top of her dresser and was stepping into them when she saw him at her door. His presence filled the room without him having to step inside. His knuckles were white where they gripped the wood frame, his face flushed as if he’d been for a run.
“Are you okay?” she asked. He looked too healthy to be having a heart attack, but Cameron Locke would probably charge her with murder if his worker bee died within an hour of arrival. “Do you need to sit down or maybe have a glass of water?”
“I’m fine,” he grumbled. He was staring at the jeans halfway up her legs and he stifled an animal sound that cause a flood of heat between her legs. “Cover yourself.”
Oh.
It wasn’t a heart attack—it was desire.
“It’s a good thing I’m not insecure,” she said as she pulled her jeans higher on her thighs, breathlessly aware of those avid eyes raking over her. The muscles flexing in his arms as he rocked toward her. That pipe he was packing in his jeans…for her. He was fighting it, holding back the same way she was, most likely for the same reasons. But he did want her. It hadn’t been a test.
At least there was that.
“You’ve stopped again, Ms. Wagner.”
The words held enough of a plea for her to do as he asked, but now her hands felt clumsy. Sweaty. She managed to tug the jeans up over her hips, only stilling her usual hop, yank and jiggle for an instant when she heard him groan.
Damn it, why did he have to work for Locke?
“There,” she said as she fastened the button. “Wonder Woman has left the building. Feel better now?”
“Not at all.”
Neither did she. The denim was rough and unwelcome against her skin. She wanted to take it off again, but she ignored the impulse, snagging her light cardigan from its nearby hook and slipping it on for extra protection.
“Unfortunately, we can’t go back in time and forget how you found me. Now I’m embarrassed, you’ve seen me in my underwear and we both know you squeezed the merchandise. I think our best move is to embrace the humor of the situation and forgive each other for our lack of late-night decorum. I won’t tell your boss if you don’t.”
“You mean your boss.” Silver sparks of warning lit his eyes. “The boss.”
Wow, okay. No jokes about the boss.
She ran her fingers through her hair and grimaced at the tangles she found. “No disrespect intended.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Of course.” She stared at him in frustration, stepping closer. “You’re going to need to give me a minute. Pikeson was my boss for ten years, so this is a big change for me. On top of that, I’ve heard Locke has a tendency to lose interest in new purchases as fast as he makes them, often at the cost of long-term employees. Since I love this place and I’d like to keep my job for the foreseeable future, I’m sure you get why I might be taking a wait-and-see approach.”
“That argument sounds reasonable,” he said through his perfect teeth. “Unless your hesitation stems from resentment that you couldn’t come up with the capital yourself. Someone might wonder if you were holding a grudge.”
“Someone might wonder?” Pikeson had known about her desire to buy this place for years. She’d been sure he was warming up to the idea of a payment plan when Locke tossed a pile of money in his direction and spoiled her plans. But grudge? That was a little harsh.
“I got my hopes up, I admit it. But I’m glad Pikeson got what he wanted, and my plan is still on track, so there are no hard feelings.”
She had some hard feelings, but it was late and she didn’t want to give him any more ammunition to use against her. “I’ll assure Mr. Locke myself when he joins us tomorrow. Would a morning meeting work for him? I have a deal with a local bakery that makes the best muffins and breakfast burritos you’ve ever tasted.”
“Trying to get rid of me now that your feet are on the ground?” His predatory smile made her nipples hard. Damn, this man packed a punch.
“Not at all,” she lied. “But if Mr. Locke is in town, I think we should wait and sort out any issues he has in person.”
He snagged her cardigan and tugged, pulling her slowly toward him. She’d already been gravitating in his direction, drawn to him despite everything.
“What are you doing, Boot Boy?”
What she wanted him to be doing was dirty and sweaty and possibly illegal in some states. It definitely wasn’t a good idea, yet she knew he was thinking the same thing.
How did she know that?
“You aren’t ready.” The words were whisper soft near her forehead.
“For what? Him?” She smirked. “I’ve done my research. Mr. Locke gets a lot of attention from the press, so it wasn’t that hard. I think I know what to expect.”
He released her and scowled. “Did you know he likes to drop in on his new properties prior to any official meetings? Mr. Locke believes it’s the best way to get a feel for a place before the formal tours and breakfast burritos cloud his judgment.”
Bailey’s eyelid twitched, her world tilting for a heartbeat as she caught on.
She closed her sweater protectively and stepped back. “Does Mr. Locke also talk about himself in third person and not introduce himself on purpose, so his new employees can be embarrassed by his big reveal?”
He gave her a pained look. “Bailey.”
It was just her name, but it told her so much. He hadn’t meant to mislead her. He hadn’t expected anything that happened tonight. Join the club.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit down, Mr. Locke?” She tossed a few of her shirts off the narrow couch in her room and gestured politely. “Unless you’d like to get back to your associates. You must be tired, since your flight was delayed.”
You almost kissed Cameron Locke.
It was going to take time, and probably lots of alcohol, to process that.
He crossed his arms, the muscles straining his shirt in a way that was practically pornographic. “Most of my associates had earlier flights, and nothing but praise for you.”
“That’s nice.” And news to her. The last email she’d gotten had come yesterday, and it hadn’t mentioned exact arrival times.
The man traveled with an entourage. Who needed six
or seven people following them around at all times? Rich people, that’s who. She didn’t mean to stereotype, but it was hard not to. Up the hill, in the canyon, on a different planet—that’s where people with Locke’s kind of money lived. The air was different there. He might as well be a Martian.
Who knew Martians were great big hotties?
“You surprised me.” He was staring at her mouth, distracting her. “Someone so young running an inn without a partner. It’s not an ordinary job. Living where you work. Constantly on call.”
She got this a lot. Usually from men. “Let me guess. You look at this place and see the innkeeper as a cookie-baking widow or a power couple who left the rat race to make their own applesauce? My guests have no issues with my age or relationship status, Mr. Locke. And no complaints about my service.”
“I’ve seen the reviews. After my meetings with Pikeson, it was obvious you were the one keeping this place afloat, if not thriving. I’m not trying to insult you, but things will be different now. You say you aren’t a fan of change, but change is exactly what this place needs. I have to wonder how you’ll manage my more hands-on approach.”
Her heart thundered in her ears at hands-on. “I said I wasn’t used to it, but I’m more than capable of adapting. I’m young and single. Flexibility is a given.”
He inhaled sharply and she bit her tongue. Everything coming out of her mouth sounded like a challenge or a sexual invitation. To her boss. She had a sinking feeling she was about to be fired.
It might be a good thing. She could catch up her shows or her reading. Spend more time visiting with friends. And now that he’d shown her she still had a sex drive, maybe she could finally accept those offers she’d been regularly turning down. She wasn’t sure if ending her celibacy made up for being homeless and having her dreams flushed down the toilet by some rich playboy, but it was something.
You won’t be homeless this time.
True. She had the money she’d been saving to buy the inn, and Dani would take her in until she found a new place. She loved Bailey like a sister, and the pool and a live-in chef would be icing on the couch-surfing cake. It would be like visiting a spa. She would make it work.
A Sinful Trap Page 2