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Ace’s head fell against the cushions. “This is crazy! I pick this place expecting to see no one I know, and it’s owned by a friend. What are the chances?”
“I was shocked to see you, too.”
Ace raised his head. “When’d you see me?”
London told him about last night’s events. “I started to call but wasn’t sure of the reception I’d get. But I really wanted to see you. Alone. So when I heard about the massage appointment, there it was, my way in.”
“Ellen never should have agreed to let you in my room. You could be a serial killer! I’m going to report her.”
“Please don’t. I offered her a believable story and a ridiculous amount of money to take her place. When it comes to something I want, I can be pretty persuasive. So, please, can we keep this between us? I’d hate for her to lose her job, and knowing my cousins, that’s exactly what would happen.”
“How much was this visit worth to you?”
“A lot.”
“How much?”
“That’s between me and Ellen. Telling you would go straight to your head.”
“That much, huh?”
“My lips are sealed.”
Ace turned toward London, crossed his arms and nestled into the couch’s corner.
“So even though years ago you told me you had none, your last name is Drake.”
“You obviously didn’t do your research. One click on an internet search engine could have told you that.”
“Like it could have told me whether or not your real name is London? Not that I’m into the whole search engine stalking thing.”
The teasing returned. “Absolutely, and I wouldn’t mind a stalker as fine as you. I’m willing to tell you, but only if there’s something for me in return.”
Ace’s eyes turned dark, this time with desire instead of ire. “I’m sure I can think of something.”
Was it London’s imagination, or did the room’s temperature just rise?
“My full name is Clarisse Alana Drake. I legally added London when I turned eighteen.”
Ace’s gaze remained intense as he gazed at her. “Clarisse.”
The name floated off his tongue like a song, caressed her ears like raw silk.
“That’s a beautiful name. Why’d you change it?”
London shrugged. “Boredom. Errant impulse. Teenage rebellion. Take your pick.”
“Clarisse is a beautiful name, though I can understand why you’d use another.”
London’s brow creased. “Why?”
“It doesn’t fit you. That name is for a woman who is demure, sweet, refined, quiet.”
London crossed her arms.
“And that’s not me?” Asked demurely, of course.
“No, it’s not. You’re a hellion who bribed a hotel employee to take advantage of a naked man. A woman named Clarisse would never do that.”
“But a woman named London would?”
“A woman named London would, and did.”
“I guess I did, huh? But I haven’t gotten the chance to take advantage of your nakedness…yet.”
Ace shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“So it’s my turn for answers. What are you doing here? Last I heard you were running a design house in San Francisco. And engaged.”
“You heard correctly. A couple partners and I opened OTB three years ago. The engagement didn’t work out.”
“I can relate.”
“Yeah, I saw somewhere that you and the director called it quits.”
“I thought you weren’t the search engine stalker type?”
“I didn’t search out the information. If I remember correctly it was a major network’s breaking news.”
London nodded. No denying the truth. “I get that OTB stands for outside the box, and your looks certainly are that. But why didn’t you name it Ace something or other?”
“There are already several Ace lines. Plus, this is a collaborative effort. It’s not all about me.”
“Is that why you left modeling, and Europe, so suddenly?”
“I didn’t leave suddenly, even though it seemed that way. I’d planned my exit, had charted the next course of my life.” His gaze slid to her then away. “It obviously didn’t matter to you, anyway.”
