Swoon.
Damon leaned toward her slightly, his smile turning devilish. “Well, let’s just say if you wanted to play Parcheesi, Kinsley, I’d definitely make the time.”
Kinsley had to remind herself to breathe. Oh, he was good. Panty-meltingly good. Playboy. That summed him up in one word. Good-looking, well-dressed, fit, but not into commitment. Just her luck. Not that it mattered. She was officially shutting and locking the door on down-to-earth-sensible Kinsley tonight. Only for tonight, she was going to be go-with-the-flow-party-girl Kinsley and have fun.
Even if it killed her.
She tossed back another tequila shot then quickly sucked the lime wedge. The burn traveled all the way down her insides and she felt her shoulders go limp. Her body swayed slightly. Yes, this was exactly what she needed. No more Paul, no more depressing thoughts on her family’s hotel or what that meant for her career. No worries about her own canceled wedding or how uninteresting her life had been. She wanted to forget it all tonight.
When she noticed him studying her, nursing his drink, a thought occurred to her. She pointed a finger at him. “Hey, you’re not trying to get me drunk so you can hit on me, are you?”
He chuckled. “Not at all.”
She frowned. “You’re not going to try and hit on me?”
He leaned in and the clean scent of his skin mixed with whatever cologne he was wearing spiked her heart rate further. “I thought I was hitting on you,” he whispered in her ear. “Apparently I need to do a better job of it.”
Good grief, he was smooth… And a playboy, she reminded her sensible self. But she found herself grinning back and feeling just as flirtatious. “Thinking and doing are two different things.”
What a sexy good line! She didn’t even recognize herself. It was as if the tequila was channeling her inner Lady Gaga.
Damon’s eyes glittered. “And here I thought this wedding was going to be a waste of my time. You’re a pleasant surprise to my night.”
“I am? Oops.” She slipped off the barstool, but luckily Damon had quick hands. Quick strong hands. He caught her, and their faces were so close she was just about nose to nose with him. His blue eyes looked even bluer. “I’m not boring you, then?” she practically panted.
“Boring?” He started to chuckle. “I could call you a lot of things, but boring wouldn’t even come close to making it on the list, sweetheart.” He signaled the bartender and ordered another round of shots. The band began to play “The Electric Slide,” and he winced then glanced at his watch. “Thank God this thing is almost over.”
She gazed out onto the packed dance floor. People were laughing as the groom tried to mimic the bride’s moves. She smiled. Her friends were clearly in love. A little pang of envy hit her in the gut. That was supposed to be her and Paul. She let out a deep sigh.
“Don’t tell me you like that stuff,” he said with a healthy dose of skepticism in his voice.
“By that stuff, do you mean the gorgeous white gown, the flowers, the music, the adoring husband, and the until-death-do-us-part? Then yes, I like that stuff very much.” When Damon offered no further comment, she turned back to him. “Not a wedding person, huh?”
“No.” His voice was thick with disdain. “I only came here as a favor to my father, since he couldn’t attend—the groom’s family are clients—and because I have business to conduct in the area.”
Damon certainly seemed to have a lot of layers to him, like a gift-wrapped baklava. She propped an elbow on the bar, resting her chin in her hand, and decided to keep the questions in a safe zone. “What kind of business do you do?”
“I’m an executive vice president of an international conglomerate based in New York City. We primarily deal with real estate development, investing, sales and marketing, and some property management. What do you do?”
She held in a sigh. She didn’t do anything quite as glamorous as that, that was for sure. Even “hotel manager” was a tenuous title right now. She could only pray the new owners of her family’s hotel would keep her on. If not, she’d be looking for work at her brother’s veterinary clinic. Even more depressing. Her mopey mood was starting to creep back. But then she realized Damon was still expecting an answer to his question.
“Oh, a little of this and a little of that.” She waved her wrist back and forth, hoping her vague response sounded more mysterious and less wishy-washy. “Things are up in the air now, since moving back to the area.”
“What brought you back?”
“After my fiancé and I split up, work became a little…difficult. I was the event planner at the Royal Rouge Casino in Connecticut. He was my boss.” She made a face.
“Ah.”
“Yeah, worse than ah.” She crooked her finger, signaling him to lean in. With a slight grin, he did. Oh, boy, he really did smell fantastic. If she could, she’d make a scented candle out of him.
“Let me give you some advice,” she said, grabbing onto the lapel of his jacket for balance. “Don’t ever, ever sleep with your boss.”
“Considering my boss is my father, I don’t see that being an issue.”
“Well, that’s doubly good to hear.” She started to chuckle. “That would be much worse than my case.”
He smiled back, but she caught the trace of reserve hidden beneath it. “Would you like to dance?” he suddenly asked.
Kinsley blinked. He wants to dance to “The Electric Slide”?
Then she realized that song had ended and one of her favorite Harry Connick Jr. songs, “You Don’t Know Me,” began to play. She looked out onto the dance floor, packed with couples swaying to its slow rhythm. “Oh, I’m not sure. After all that tequila, I might not be able to stand, let alone dance,” she said with a grin. Plus, she was a terrible dancer even without alcohol.
He gave her an easy smile, offering her his hand. “I’ve got you.” His voice was deep and husky, causing a delightful shiver of wanting to go through her.
Oh, lordy, you sure do. For right now, anyway—until her carriage turned into a pumpkin. She doubted she’d ever see this man again in her life, so she might as well enjoy every moment. She placed her hand in his.
Once they reached the other couples, he took her into his arms and moved—no thanks to her—skillfully across the dance floor. Kinsley melted a little into his chest. He felt so nice, and she was just a tad dizzy. She closed her eyes, savoring that feeling along with the delicious heat of him.
The song tapered to an end. The band began thanking everyone for coming to the wedding and congratulating the happy couple once again.
Damon stopped dancing, his hands slowly running up her spine. “You know, just because the reception has come to an end doesn’t mean the night has to end for us.”
She let his words soak in. What Damon was offering was tempting. After all, he had been a fun companion so far. But…she wasn’t going to kid herself. What was fun for a few drinks wasn’t going to translate into anything meaningful. That much she’d come to learn about him in such a short amount of time.
With a stab of regret, she stepped out of his arms. “Thanks for the drinks and for feigning interest in me. I really needed both tonight.” Awkwardly, she pretended to smooth out the skirt of her dress. As if it mattered with organza. But she needed to do something with her hands.
His brows drew together. “I wasn’t pretending, Kinsley.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. “Oh, well, thanks for the drinks, then.” She forced a bright smile. Time to pack in for the night and turn into sensible old Kinsley again. “Good night,” she said, holding out her hand in a businesslike gesture.
Damon pierced her with his blue-eyed gaze for several long seconds, as if debating something in his mind before finally taking hold of her hand. “Good night, Kinsley.” Then he leaned in and brought his mouth across hers. Once she got over the shock of his lips on hers, she kissed him back, tightening her grip on his hand for balance.
Oh, but he had a nice, soft, giving mouth, like their
lips were two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. The world around her disappeared as he wove his hands into her hair, tilting her head back. He trailed light kisses down her neck, bringing every nerve in her body to high alert and begging for even more of his touch. She’d never felt like this before with a man—maybe it was the excitement of him being a virtual stranger or maybe just the man himself, but her body came alive. She didn’t want it to end.
And for once in her sensible life, she wanted to do the insensible thing.
She eased back slowly, gaining confidence when she heard him exude a low moan. “Um, yeah, well then.” She licked her lips, growing dizzier when she tasted him again. “On second thought, maybe…we don’t have to say good night just yet. I mean, if you’re still interested,” she hastily added.
A slow, lethal grin stretched Damon’s lips as he took hold of her hand again. “Yes. I’m definitely interested.”
Chapter Two
Kinsley’s nose itched. She rubbed it a few times. Then a few more times to no avail.
What the heck? Is there a fly in the room?
Barely cracking open an eye, she was about to swat at the culprit again when she realized what was tickling her nose. Not a fly. Hair. And not her own. Hair on a man’s broad, warm chest.
Both eyes sprang open. Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!
She quickly took in the chest then the room, all the while ignoring the sharp pain radiating in her head. This was not her bedroom. Not her duplex. She was in a hotel room.
OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSH!
That chest her cheek was currently pressed up against took in a deep breath. Squeezing her eyes shut—as if that would somehow make her invisible—she shoved a fist in her mouth to keep from screaming.
What had she done? Think, Kinsley. Think!
She couldn’t think. Her head throbbed. She raised a tentative hand to her temple. That slight movement caused the man to stir, and panic flooded her. His eyes remained closed as he shifted out from under her and rolled over onto his side.
Thank goodness. Willing herself to keep calm, she let out a long, quiet breath as she studied the stranger’s back and tried to figure a way out of there. Whoever he was, he had a very nice back. No hair there. Not even a blemish or freckle. Just nice smooth, tanned skin. Huh. And oh my, he must work out. Pretty regularly by the looks of it. There was such definition around…
Focus, Kinsley! You’re in a strange man’s bed!
She looked away, blinking the image from her mind. Okay, she had to get a grip. It’s just that nothing like this had ever happened to her before. Her life was normally so…so… uninteresting. She hadn’t even dated that many guys. In fact, she’d only ever had sex with one man in her life: her ex-fiancé. Then she had a sudden sickening thought…
She carefully peered at herself underneath the sheets. The pink bridesmaid dress was still on. Good news. But it was on backward. Pantyhose and bra were missing.
She shoved her fist in her mouth again.
Okay, okay, relax, she told herself, and try to remember what happened.
And…blankness. All she could think about was how her head must have been used as a bowling ball last night. Her stomach didn’t feel too well, either. Probably from all that tequila.
Tequila!
That’s it. She drank tequila—and lots of it—with a man, that Chris Hemsworth lookalike. The man next to her? Yes. She remembered that now. Unfortunately, that’s about all she could remember. She didn’t even know his name. Stupid Arden telling her to approach strange men, to let loose and have fun. Just look at the problem that caused!
I hope when Arden finds out about this she’s proud of herself.
Disrupting the sarcastic thoughts in her head, her cell phone rang. She gasped again when the man shifted.
Noooooo! Slipping out of bed as fast and as smoothly as she could without moving the mattress, she lunged for her phone by the dresser. Her brother’s name and picture popped up on the screen.
With her heartbeat throbbing in her ears, she hit the answer button. “Wade,” she whispered.
“Kinsley, where are you? I’m at your condo right now.”
With a parting glance at the motionless man, she tiptoed into the bathroom then closed the door behind her. “I, um, ended up staying at the hotel. I had a lot to drink.” True and also very true.
She caught a glance of herself in the mirror and winced. She looked like a member of the Suicide Squad.
“Kinsley, why are you talking so low? You have a cold or something?”
“Will you stop with all the questions?” she whispered, rubbing her throbbing forehead. “I’m a grown woman.” A grown woman wearing a dress on backward, locked in a stranger’s bathroom. Ugh.
She cracked open the door just to make doubly sure Broad Back was still sleeping. He was. Thank goodness. That’s when she noticed her pantyhose draped over one of the lampshades.
She slowly closed the door again and refrained from whimpering.
“Gee, so sorry for being such a concerned brother.”
She snorted. “Concerned? You weren’t concerned about me when you sold our ancestry out from under my nose.”
Wade sighed into the phone. “Kinsley, we’ve been over this. And it was hardly out from under your nose. I gave you plenty of warning.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think you really meant that stuff about selling. You should have given me more time to change things.”
“You don’t know all the facts, okay?”
But Kinsley had heard enough. It broke her heart all over again just thinking about it. She loved The Harbor Light. So many wonderful family times growing up there. After her dad passed away last year, she’d hoped to hold on to those memories through the hotel. Now she didn’t know what was to become of the place. Rumor had it that the new owner wanted to sell the hotel because the land was worth much more than the actual building. Well, not to her. That building held her past. She had hoped, since her breakup with her fiancé, it would also hold her future. Now she didn’t know anymore. She had experienced so much loss in so little time—her dad then her fiancé. The hotel was the final straw. Every day she felt as if she was losing a little piece of herself as well.
Wade sighed. “It’s over now, Kinsley. And I didn’t call so you could give me another guilt trip. I just wanted to remind you that the brunch is still on.”
“What brunch?”
“Brunch at The Starlight in Margate. In an hour. Sunday was the only time St. James had to meet with us. You didn’t forget, did you?”
“Wait? What?” Her head felt woozy and she sank down on the toilet seat. Then she remembered. “I mean, that’s right. How could I forget? We’re meeting with the Grim Reaper himself today.”
“Kinsley,” Wade said in a warning tone, “he’s not the Grim Reaper. In fact, as of last week, he’s your new boss. Unless, of course, you can’t control that smart mouth of yours and you get yourself fired.”
She huffed. “What’s the difference? I’ll lose my job anyway when he sells the hotel to break up the oceanfront property into overpriced condos.”
“He specifically told me that was not his intention.”
“And you believed him? Wade, you’re a veterinarian not a business mogul. You played right into his hands.”
“Look, I’m not getting into this with you again. Will you be at brunch or not?”
She glanced in the mirror again, at her hair sticking up on its ends and then to the smeared mascara underneath her eyes. “I’ll be there, but, um, I’m going to need a little more time to get ready. Can you try to push it back another hour?”
“Fine. I’ll call him now. I’ll text you if there’s a problem.”
“Okay, thanks.” She ended the call then quietly entered the bedroom to gather her things. Not only was her time to get home and make herself presentable limited, she also wanted to avoid Broad Back waking up and the whole awkward morning-after thing, too.
What could she possibly say to
him? Um, not that it wasn’t memorable, but could you clear something up for me? Did we or did we not have sex?
Ugh. How embarrassing for both of them. The only thing she knew for sure was that she’d made a terrible mistake. She didn’t have the energy to deal with it. She had enough problems waiting for her at brunch.
The silence in the room was interrupted again when another phone began to ring.
Doesn’t anybody sleep in on the weekends anymore? Her heart raced wildly as she tried to locate the phone. All she needed was the man waking up on her before she could slip out. Before the third ring, she finally found it on the floor under his pants. She snatched it up and hit the ignore button, but not before catching a glimpse of the number on the screen.
Wait. Was that my brother’s phone number? No. Not possible. Not even remotely possible. Just a similar number.
The man stirred for a few more seconds. Kinsley held her breath and hoped the phone wouldn’t ring again. When he finally settled back into sleep, she glanced at the cell phone again. It dinged. A voicemail had been left.
Then a few seconds later, a text message alert went off. She bit her lip. She had a bad feeling about this. The little hairs on her neck began to stand on their ends. With dread, she looked down at the phone again.
Hey, I just left you a voicemail. Wanted to see if we could push back brunch. My sister is running late. Call me when
That’s all Kinsley could see of the text bubble, since the man’s phone was locked. But it was enough to confirm her suspicions.
That had been her brother.
This is so not good. Not good at all. Mouth dry, heart pounding, head hurting, she slowly placed the phone back where it had been.
What was she going to do now? She gathered her belongings close to her chest, staring at the figure in bed with a whole new perspective. Nausea took root and she willed her stomach to cooperate and not expel its contents right then and there in the middle of the room.
She was sick all right. And not just physically. Because based on that little text message, she didn’t have a simple hookup with a stranger at her friend’s wedding last night like she’d originally thought. Oh, no. Noooooo. Leave it to her to bypass simple. This was ten times worse.
Bargaining With the Boss Page 2