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“Remarkable, isn’t it? And that is what Sterling is about. The experience. Exceeding expectations at every turn. Would a new owner understand and value that?” He scowled. “The brand is well respected worldwide,” he said when they were alone again. “And it is profitable. With some changes, returns could be even greater. For example, we’re considering adding a luxury cruise line with several small exclusive ships and a couple of medium-sized ones. We won’t be competing with value carriers, but instead we’ll be creating a new market. I’m also developing an idea to create high-end housing opportunities, villas and mansions that families can stay in for weeks or months if they desire. Imagine that you could have a house in Tuscany with a wine cellar at your disposal. Or a villa in Monte Carlo. Perhaps a chateau in the Swiss alps. No need to worry about the taxes or maintenance or housekeeping.”
“Or cooking?”
“Or cooking,” he confirmed.
“If I must…” She laughed. “Is this where I say, ‘take my money’?”
He enjoyed her expressions. Whether she was happy or upset, excited or teasing, the emotion filtered across her face. “So if we sell, would we get as much as it’s worth? How many corporations have the kind of money necessary? There are a limited number of hoteliers with the capital and resources to buy us out. Would the Sterling name be discontinued? I believe the future is bright, both in economy travel and the luxury markets. To me, this is more than a business. It’s my family’s legacy. I’m in no hurry to tear it down.”
“Which is why your grandfather spent so much time with you. He wanted to instill that in you.”
Noah had enjoyed a pampered childhood with lazy days and trips. After college, he’d traveled the world—staying at various Sterling properties. His version of learning the business had included ordering twenty-four-hour room service and judging the food quality and wait times. He’d even compiled a spreadsheet to show where there was room for improvement. Not that Rafe objected to that. In fact, that kind of reporting was appreciated. But Noah had done it all on company money, and he’d traveled to exotic destinations and made outrageous demands. To make matters worse, he was—by all accounts—a lousy tipper.
The server brought crab cakes, and Hope moved her rose to one side to make room for the platter. She pricked her index finger on a thorn, reigniting his hunger for her, something he’d never had trouble controlling before.
She sucked on her finger. “That hurts.”
“Not as much as what I’m thinking about doing to you.”
Her eyes widened.
“I want the thorns on your pussy.” He transferred one of the appetizers onto her plate, then scooped the second onto his. “The question is, are you going to do it beneath the table? Or wait until we get home?”
Hope dropped her hand and curled it into a fist in her lap. “Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“You want me to…” She trailed off. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Hike up your skirt, then scrape the thorns up your inner thigh.”
“Mr. Sterling, you are a sadist.”
With her, yes. He couldn’t hide his grin at her delicate outrage. “Of the worst kind, it turns out.”
Her gaze flickered to the rose, then back at her plate. Though she didn’t respond, she was clearly thinking about his suggestion.
“How did you like the way I spanked your pussy? Did it hurt as much as you imagined it would?”
“Yes, but…”
“But?” he prompted.
“The sensations were… What I mean is… The orgasms were…”
Her struggle was as real as it was delicious. “The pain added to the heightened sensations?”
“Yes.”
“Then do it.”
Until she discreetly wiggled around to lift the hem of her skirt, he wasn’t sure she’d do as he’d requested.
His cock surged as her knee brushed his. He made sure the tablecloth guaranteed her privacy while she lowered the rose to the seat.
Her hands trembled, and her breaths crashed into each other. “Maybe it’s the champagne.” She sounded deliciously bemused.
