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A sly smile crossed Edith’s face.
“Okay. Ordering in, it is.”
When they got checked into their hotel rooms, Rogan set up his laptop and logged in remotely to the company database to get some work done he had been in the middle of before they’d left. He didn’t want to lose any momentum on them. Before he knew it, a couple of hours had gone by when his cell rang.
“Rayner,” he answered in a clipped tone.
“I thought you might be interested in a bite. I’ve got food if you want to come join me. I also wanted to get your opinion on a new campaign I’m thinking of starting up when we get back.”
He glanced at his watch.
“All right,” he agreed. “Give me five minutes.”
When he knocked on her grand hotel room door ten minutes later, she opened it up with a flourish to wave him inside.
He stood in place.
“Edith, what are you wearing?”
She looked down at her light-pink, low-cut, silk camisole baring ample cleavage and matching shorts that showed off her toned, muscular thighs. She looked back up at him and smiled.
“Oh, this? I didn’t think we’d be getting out again tonight. You don’t mind, do you?”
She reached a hand out, grabbing his shoulder and pulled him inside.
“Come on, you know I don’t bite,” she teased.
He moved inside, and the door closed noisily behind him.
Edith walked around him, and his eyes went to the high trim of the back of her silk shorts. The roundness of her ass was just so, that the slightest glimpse of the crease where it turned into legs was peeking out, and he groaned internally at the sight.
What was she playing at, he wondered and snapped his eyes back up to the table by the window that she had her laptop set up on with a notepad next to it.
He straightened his black-rimmed glasses and sat in a chair across from hers, crossing an ankle over his knee and leaning back with both hands comfortably on the arm rests.
“All right, let’s hear it.”
She smiled, then pulled her tablet over toward him and moved her own chair in closer as well. She went into her spiel about her new ideas, pressing her fingertips lightly to his knee with each new point.
“Edith, this all sounds great, but you know you don’t need my approval for every little project you’re working on. You know the goals I have for my company and its growth. You’ve seen the projection reports. I hired you because you’re fully capable. As long as you’re performing and getting your job done adequately, you don’t require my oversight at every turn.”
She peered at him through long eyelashes, then quirked a half-smile. She turned to shut off her tablet.
“All right, then, how about a drink?”
Before he could respond, she had stood and fluttered over to the small wet-bar in the lavish room to grab a bottle of wine.
He stood and followed her.
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
While the drink may have been necessary, the fraternizing was not, but before he knew it, she placed a stemmed glass in his hand.
She took a long sip from her own glass, tipping her head back and allowing the burgundy liquid to pass her lips and wash down her throat. Rogan looked down at his own glass.
What the hell, he thought, and threw back a generous sip. He only had one thing left to do on this trip, and he couldn’t do that until the following morning.
*
