AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sounds great,” she replied, then let out a frustrated breath. This was the shit her hormones got her into, burying her own wants for a man. “I mean, if there isn’t any ginger ale.”
“Lucky for you, there’s ginger ale. And a Coke, and orange soda,” he said, and reached in for another bottle. He took down two glasses from the top shelf and poured their drinks. “That’s it, though. There’s only so much shit you can carry on a bike.”
“Right,” she agreed, accepting the glass as he held it out. “Actually, maybe—” she mused, and reached past him for the vodka bottle. She spun off the cap and poured a measure into her ginger ale. “Don’t judge me, drinking before a big event.”
He laughed and tapped the rim of his glass to hers before taking a long drink of his tonic water.
“You’re flying in a no-judgement zone,” he murmured, his voice husky.
He pointed his drink to the couch and then strolled past her.
“Let’s sit for a bit,” he said. “It sounds like this engagement is being moved up in the calendar.”
She followed him, gulping at her drink until she felt the familiar calmness slide into her bloodstream and smooth down her nervous edge.
“Probably by a week,” she agreed, sitting on the couch.
He sat in the middle, knees wide and arms along the back. He held his glass on the back of the couch, and she sat down just on the other side of it, bending her leg so she faced him.
“How can everything move so fast? Aren’t there guests and costumes and all that shit to arrange?” he asked, contemplating the city lights twinkling through the front windows.
“Cavendish is always prepared to move at the speed of light. And billionaires own planes, so getting here is never the issue,” she explained.
“Well,” he sighed, leaning forward and digging his phone out of his back pocket. “Kit says everything is cool on the property. The system only recorded our swipes, and the guest swipes earlier today.”
He held out his phone to show her three lines of computer text. It was his swipe at the Cavendish front gate, her swipe at the door downstairs, then his swipe in the elevator.
“I haven’t seen that before,” she said, taking a sip of her ginger ale and vodka. “Although I only know the technology I use.”
“It’s my company’s app. It isn’t fancy like your Cavendish shit, but all it needs to do is translate data into English,” he explained, setting the phone on the table. “Is all the testing done?”
He turned to look at her, leaning his muscled arm on the back of the couch and fixing those smoky eyes on her.
She swallowed and hid it by taking another drink.
Come on, vodka. I need your emotional shield.
“Yeah,” she replied. “Mags accepted the Arabian Orgy scenario, so now it’s just making sure that Lindsey has what she needs to prep the Spanish Villa.”
He frowned and adjusted his leg, his jeaned knee rubbing against her bare knee. Her satin outfit suddenly felt too tight all over.
“Why the Spanish Villa for an Arabian orgy?”
“Mags saw it and liked it,” she said.
“Huh,” he replied, the intensity in his eyes staying steady.
“Tomorrow I’d like to go over the final guest list and staffing for the orgy,” he said, then chuckled. “Staffing for an orgy. I can’t believe I just said that.”
She laughed, too.
“Yeah, our staff meetings sound like staging for a porno. Which I guess is accurate, just without the filming,” she said, and laughed again.
He smiled but didn’t laugh. And though his mouth curved up his eyes remained serious. It struck something deep inside her and made her feel weepy.
Fuck, wake up, she yelled at herself.
But she was awake. The calm the vodka had injected shifted to a quiet awareness.
