Page 70 of One Last Job


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“Maybe,” he says with a shrug. “But I’ve spoken to everyone I absolutely needed to see today, and Viola’s got things handled downstairs.”

“Look at you delegating like a pro,” I tease him as he pulls me to my feet. “Who are you and what have you done with Finn Hawthorne?”

He laughs and warmth floods through me. It’s such a lovely sound. I’m going to miss hearing it every day. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

I grab my overnight bag, which he immediately takes from me, and follow him downstairs, out of the building, and into the black cab waiting for us outside. His hotel is less than a ten-minute drive away, but the journey feels like it stretches on. The energy between us is electric, and I’m acutely aware of his body next to mine. Every time our legs bump or our arms brush against each other, a frisson of excitement and anticipation for what’s to come shoots through me.

I’m sure he can feel it too. His jaw ticks as he stares determinedly, and I can practically see the conflict raging behind his eyes. I know the feeling. The only thing that’s stopping me from lifting my dress and sliding onto his lap right now is the driver. And if we don’t get to the hotel soon, even that might not be enough.

I lean into him to try to steady myself, resting my head on his chest. I let the comforting beat of his heart act as a guide, and by the time we pull up outside his hotel, I’m marginally less horny.

But only marginally.

He takes my bag without a word and laces his fingers with mine so he can tug me into the elevator.

“Did you have a nice time tonight?” I ask as we walk down the corridor once we reach his floor. He’s on the very top floor and the carpet here is thick and plush, masking the sounds of our footsteps as we walk to his door.

“It went well,” he says, sounding distracted. Dark green eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second and the corners of his lips curl upward into a small smirk. “I think I’m going to enjoy the second half the evening a lot more, though.”

I bite my lip to stop my smile from spreading. “I’m serious, Finn. Tonight was a really big deal for you. Did you get the chance to enjoy it properly?”

He sighs as he slides his key card against the little square by his door. It flashes green and he pushes the door open, gesturing for me to go inside. “It was pretty bittersweet, if I’m being honest.”

“Why’s that?”

His hotel room is about five times the size of my living room at home. It’s cool, sleek and swanky, and painted with dark, moody colours. There’s a king sized bed against the wall farthest from the door, several plush-looking armchairs dotted around, and an amazing view of the London skyline. There are two large, open suitcases scattered beside his mirrored wardrobe, and the sight of them makes my throat close up.

One of the suitcases is half open, and it’s clear he’s been haphazardly throwing clothes into it recently.

He tosses my overnight bag beside the bed and then falls down onto it, gesturing for me to follow. I let myself drop into his open arms, and I drape my legs over his as he pulls me onto his lap.

“Because this project has been my baby ever since I first started thinking about it. Even before I flew out. For the last six months, all I’ve wanted to do is launch this location.”

“And now you’ve done it.”

“And now I’ve done it,” he parrots quietly.

“So what’s next?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I’m not sure. I’ll be leaving the day-to-day management of the property with Viola, but I’ll be keeping an eye on things for at least a few months.”

“From here?” I ask, my voice full of hope.

He shakes his head. “From New York.”

I feel myself deflate in his arms. “You’re leaving soon.”

“Sunday.”

I nod and he must see the sadness flashing across my face because he tilts my chin up with his finger. “When I booked my flights I didn’t have a reason to stay much longer past the launch date.”

I swallow, hating how wobbly and vulnerable I know I must sound. “And now?”

He presses a soft kiss against my forehead. “I’d definitely have a reason now.”

I bury my face in the crook of his neck to stop myself from verbalising the thought that suddenly jumps into my mind.

So stay.

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