Page 18 of Tell Me Something

The vision he made in bare feet, lounge pants, and a white T-shirt made me swallow hard. His jet-black hair was unkempt enough that he might have just woken up.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” His voice was quiet.

I took a deep breath before commenting. “I’m a grown woman and was safe.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and we just stood there staring at one another. “Who were you with?”

“Zach from IT and his roommates and their friends. It was a large group of people.” I’m not sure why I didn’t take the opportunity to make him jealous, but he didn’t seem in the mood for it.

“I see. And you had to go all the way to Jersey to get drunk with Zach?”

“I’m not drunk, and it was a group. I wasn’t there with him; he just happened to issue the invite.”

“So he didn’t try to kiss you?”

Before I could second-guess what I was doing, I marched up and grasped both sides of his face, bringing it down to mine and putting my lips on his.

His initial surprise shifted to desire in about two seconds. He tangled his hands in my hair and met my insistent mouth with his own.

“Jesus, Haylee,” he managed a minute later, pulling back.

How could a simple kiss cause so much heat? “No, Zach didn’t kiss me.”

“You need to get some sleep. Make sure you drink some water before you go to bed.” His voice sounded regretful.

I didn’t trust myself to say anything as I’d already gone far enough with my brazen action, so I only nodded and walked on shaky legs to my door. I hadn’t been prepared for how that one kiss would leave me hungry for more.

CHAPTER FIVE

O n Sunday, we left for Cancun via commercial jet in first class, which meant no alone-time with Josh on the flight. There had been absolutely no mention of what had happened in the hall on Friday night. It was as if we were both pretending it hadn’t occurred, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss and wondered if he was similarly afflicted.

It was my first official business trip, and I looked forward to it. Upon arrival, we made our way to his current resort, which was midway down what was known as the Strip. This resort, I would learn, was a little over five years old and offered an all-inclusive vacation. So far in the afternoon daylight, the city didn’t look like a spring break mecca. But considering it was off season and the middle of the day, perhaps I wasn’t seeing the place at its prime.

Getting checked into the hotel definitely had its benefits when you were the owner. We were each shown to a spacious room when we arrived on the same floor. I went about setting up Josh’s computer in the office of his suite and then ordered up a fruit and cheese plate and got things ready for his first appointment. On the agenda today were meetings regarding a new resort being built further down the Strip. Evidently, construction would start next month.

“This is Hector, the hotel manager. Hector, this is Haylee, my assistant.” Josh introduced the man who’d knocked on the door.

“Encantado de conocerte. Nice to meet you,” Hector greeted in both Spanish and then English.

My response took them both aback. “Estoy encantada de conocerte también. Nice to meet you, too.”

“Ah, usted habla español?”

“Si.”

“Ah, muy bien. I’ll see you later, Haylee, and if you need anything during your stay, please do not hesitate to contact me,” Hector offered before going into the office with Josh.

After their meeting, Josh came out and found me staring at the view off the balcony. “I didn’t know that you spoke Spanish,” he said, regarding me.

“I like to keep you on your toes, Mr. Singer,” I teased. I was tempted to reveal that it was one of four languages that I knew, but I figured some things were better left demonstrated than said.

“What do you think of the view?”

“Beautiful. The water is so blue that it makes me wish I could ditch the job and lie by the pool all day long with a margarita in hand.”

A smile tugged at his lips before he exhaled. “Look, I need to warn you about Roberto, my head contractor. He’s a little over the top and very into your personal space. He thinks he’s being suave with the ladies, but with too much cologne, a bad hair piece, and being in his fifties— Well, he can be a bit much.”

“Here’s hoping he isn’t handsy.”