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Jesus, if that’s what his back looks like, I can barely wait for the front.
“Good morning, Kenna,” Jim Gates, Sr. cooed from somewhere in the room.
“Morning, sir.” I smiled as I continued to admire the view in front of me.
“Kenna,” my father’s voice pulled me from my thoughts and brought my attention to a second man I hadn’t even noticed, “this is Mr. Salazar. He just flew in from Miami last night and will be staying for a few weeks while he conducts some business.”
So, if Mr. Salazar is Mr. Eight, then who owns that fine ass by the window?
Mr. Salazar might be an eight, but his gorgeous lips twisted as he stared at me, and I immediately felt the burn in my gut. That happened a lot. People saw my large breasts and my figure and immediately misjudged me. They assume there was nothing there to back it up. I hated it, but at the same time I often found it amusing to toy with them. I knew I had a sharp mind, and I also knew pretty much whatever there was to know about Vegas.
“Lovely, to meet you, Mr. Salazar.” I reached out and shook his hand. “Please take a seat so we can get to know one another.”
“How old are you?” His voice was polished.
“Old enough to know not to answer that question,” I shot back but sent a killer smile his way. I sensed the man by the window had turned slightly, but I didn’t dare look. I needed to impress the man in front of me. “So, I see you’re to be in penthouse four. That has a lovely view of the rose terrace.”
“I asked for the pool view.” He cleared his throat. “And I asked for a bottle of my favorite bourbon and my suits to be pressed and ready for?—”
“Your four p.m. meeting, yes.” I nodded. “They’ve already been sent down to our laundry service and will be ready and in your room by two p.m.” I held his gaze, not looking at my iPad. “Regarding your request for the pool view, you did indicate on your booking information that you wanted the rose terrace since the last time you stayed at the Mystic Hotel you felt the pool was too loud. But I’d be happy to make the arrangements for you to have a spectacular pool view here at Indulge Hotel. We provide only the very best for our clients and our pool view includes triple-paned glass to help lessen the sound.”
He blinked at me, and I caught my father’s smirk behind him. If only that brought me comfort.
“No, that won’t be necessary. The rose terrace is fine.”
“Excellent. I have dinner reservations for you at Villains Vines at six and a table reserved at our famed nightclub, Sinful Sweets, for ten.”
“And my bourbon?”
“A bottle of Martin Mills is in your room, ordered for your table, and another sits on the top shelf at the club.”
He leaned forward with an impressed look, and I held his gaze.
“And you?” he asked, and I smiled as his phone instantly pinged with my contact information.
“She’s available twenty-four-seven,” my father cut in, and I eyed him to back off.
“I think I made the right choice staying here.”
“Not think,” I winked, “did.” I rose and extended my hand. “There’s a masseuse waiting for you in your room.”
“Lovely.” He sent me a warm smile, and I saw I passed his test. “Thank you, Kenna.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Salazar.”
My father escorted him to the door, and once the door shut, he grinned at Jim. “We did it.” Dad slapped Jim on the back. I felt my stomach twist. It would be so nice if just once in a while my father would express his appreciation for my part in something.
“Nice job, Kenna.” Jim Gates, Sr., being the kindhearted man he was, tossed me a bone. Though the Gateses were well known as notorious bastards in all things business and personal, when it came to their staff, I had to say we were treated well.
“Gotta run. Have an appointment in ten,” my father called. I tried not to sigh as he left the room. I wondered if he even saw me as a daughter anymore or if I was just another employee. Sadly, I had to go with the latter.
“Kenna?” Jim stopped me as I was about to leave. I turned and realized I’d completely forgotten about the man who stood by the window. I could feel him as he studied me. My father’s attitude still stung, and I didn’t feel like talking, but I knew I had to rally. It was what I did. “I know it’s been years, but I’d like to reintroduce my oldest son, Grim. He’s come back to work with us in Vegas.”
I’d noticed earlier he was tattooed right up to his hairline at the back of his head. The black and white art showed as it curled around the line of his chin and down his throat then disappeared into his crisp gray dress shirt.
I wondered how much more of him was covered in tattoos. His muscles were obvious through his suit and drew the imagination. A light beard dusted his face and outlined his sinful mouth. His stone-cold eyes latched on to mine like a magnet. I felt my heartrate speed up. His brows were tilted into a scowl that deepened the coldness of his gaze. A tiny Roman cross sat on the top of his cheekbone, and I saw it twitch as his gaze darkened.
A flashback of last night flickered through me, and I drew in a sharp breath that caught in my throat.
