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“A hotel room?” I ask, frowning.
Lana leans into her chair, then rubs her temples as if fighting off a brewing headache. “My family has a habit of ambushing me. Fred, Dad, or one of my brothers will probably be waiting at my place to talk some sense into me.”
My face must darken because she shrinks back a little.
“I have a penthouse you can crash in,” I say, the offer coming out before I can even think about it. “I don’t stay there. It’s fully furnished and stocked.”
Lana shakes her head. “I’m not going to inconvenience you like that. A hotel is fine.”
“Lana.”
She stiffens when I use her name, her eyes settling on me like a chastised child. I raise a brow. “Take the penthouse. I guarantee it will have better security than whatever hotel room you get.”
When she looks like she has a number of protests on her lips, I push her, “Even tracking you to a hotel is easy. You’ll be completely secure at my place.”
Lana’s shoulders droop. She refuses to meet my eyes as she says in a defeated voice, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Because I like you. And seeing you like this bothers me. Purely selfish reasons,” I assure her.
A blush streaks across her cheeks, and I watch its descent into her blouse before raising my eyes to meet hers.
“You’re not making this easy,” she says accusingly, and I give her an innocent smile.
“I don’t plan to make it easy.”
We’re both aware of the double meaning of our words. She glares, frustrated at the stubbornness I’ve decided to adopt.
The resulting silence allows Lana to gather her thoughts. She presses her lips together before asking, “Are you really planning to leave as early as possible?”
My faint smile grows broader as satisfaction thrums through my soul.
Not good at hiding your feelings… are you, Lana? I think almost fondly.
“Depends,” I say vaguely. The way her nose scrunches in obvious displeasure at my ambiguous reply is adorable, like a hissing kitten.
This time, I lean over and press the intercom, my gaze on Lana. “Hanna, Miss Hill doesn’t need the hotel room anymore. Thank you.”
Pretty eyes widening, she reaches for the intercom, then we’re both scrabbling over it until I put it out of her reach with a triumphant smirk.
“Asshole.” She scowls before she can control herself, and I burst into laughter as she turns red, realizing what she’s just called her boss.
“Charming,” I tease, still laughing while she sits there looking mortified.
“Let me take you out to dinner,” I say suddenly, and she stills.
“What?”
“Dinner,” I repeat, refusing to back down. “And I’ll drop you off at the penthouse afterward.”
“I have to collect my things from my place, at least some.” She tries to back out of my invitation, and I realize I might be walking into potential heartbreak, but I can’t not try.
“I’ll go with you. We’ll make an evening out of it.”
Lana seems to struggle internally, and she shifts in her seat before saying, “It’s not a date.”
“Of course not.” I’m exceedingly polite, hiding the sting of her words, yet understanding them.
A knock on the door has us both swinging around toward the door as it opens.
