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“For fuck’s sake!” I knew it, I just fucking knew it. No way she could just do as I asked.
What’s the point of arguing with her? It’s not like I can march into the bathroom, put her over my shoulder, and carry her to the car while she’s screaming at me. Although, it’s not totally out of the equation if she continues like this.
Leaving the suite is the only option I have, before I explode.
Pacing in the foyer is out of the question. The owner of the hotel does not pace in his own establishment, in front of his staff and patrons.
The truth is, I need to be pounding on the treadmill like I did for two hours straight this morning while the rest of the hotel slept. I couldn’t stay in bed with her. Her soft little foot moving up and down my leg, her breath whispering in the hair on my chest. Even the small little dribble of drool that pooled on my chest where her open mouth was lying on me. The longer I touched her, the harder it was going to be to leave. Instead, I got up and took the hotel Maserati out for a spin around the city as it slept.
One of the things I have implemented since I took over the business is a luxury car to be at each hotel for the use of our high-end clients who want all the bells and whistles when they stay with us. Plus, it gives me a car to use when I’m in town.
My life is so different from what I pictured. Never did I imagine driving a Maserati! But I love the feel of speed and being thrown back into the racing-designed seat with the G-forces every time I plant the accelerator flat to the floor, like I did many times last night. The whole time I was picturing Victoria in the passenger seat, hair down, spilling all over her bare shoulders in a strapless evening gown, showing off her body for me to ogle at. A nice split up the side has her closest leg to me on display, and I smooth my hand up and down the inside of her thigh, getting closer to her pussy every time.
Trying to get the thoughts of her and what I wanted to do to her in that car from my head, I ended up, as ridiculous as it sounds, stopping and visiting the Trevi Fountain again, making my own wish this time. I wished for Tori to hand in a spectacular presentation on the rebranding, securing herself a great reputation in her job, and then most importantly, move on far away from me!
The whole time I was thinking of her at the fountain, I could still feel the sense of panic that woke me from my sleep. Sweat pouring off me like I had run a marathon. Last night as we lay talking, her telling me her dreams of traveling, my heart constricted, and it was like all the breath in my lungs left me. All I could think of was my father traveling to London with the promise of returning, but he never did. His sense of travel only brought pain to us all, losing him. I know I won’t survive the pain of having someone leave me in the same way. What if she never came home again? It would kill me. That’s why I panicked and jumped out of bed. I just can’t afford to get caught up with a woman who is so much younger than me and at a totally different stage of life. She is still finding herself, and I found myself years ago—and I wasn’t the man I thought I knew.
Returning to the hotel in the early hours of the morning, adrenaline still pumping from my drive, was when I went to the gym and tried to sweat Victoria, the red goddess, out of my system, only leaving room for Tori the designer and twenty-six-year-old walking whirlwind most days.
When I was done, I hit the shower in my room, surprised that Tori hadn’t woken at all. She sleeps like she is in hibernation, unaware of anything moving around her, while she has that cute little snore happening.
Stop it!
Don’t think about her being cute. It’ll just make it harder. I just need to get her back to London and keep my distance.
I check my Rolex that was my father’s, something that means more to me than the hotel I’m standing in. Enough is enough. I’m done waiting.
“Call the car,” I tell the doorman.
If her ass is not on the seat next to me by eight-thirty exactly, I’m leaving without her, and she can find her own flight back to London.
With the door opened for me, I hear the click-clack of shoes behind me. Glancing down at my watch discreetly, I see it is eight twenty-nine, exactly like she told me.
All the way walking around to her side, she is so pleasant to everyone and thanking them for the lovely stay. If she gets in this car and continues the sweet chatter, I’m going to lose my mind.
With the door closing behind her, she is perfectly seated next to me, and everything falls completely quiet.
The driver pulls away from the hotel and into traffic. I know I can’t look at her, even though I want to, because the moment I do, the war of words will erupt, and nobody needs that.
* * *
The whole trip on the plane, no more than one or two words are spoken to each other. I catch numerous looks from Victoria that speak volumes, but for once she has managed to stay quiet, and that worries me more.
While we’re on the plane, I have been drafting an email to Victoria to set out what I want from her. In the moments we spent talking yesterday, I learned why this job means so much to her. After working on a major project with her co-worker for months, he took the project to the client a week earlier than planned, in a meeting without her, plastering his name all over her ideas. He secured the lead designer job on the project. When she protested that it was her ideas that he used and nothing of his own, management—who were all men—dismissed her. I might be a jerk, but I would never treat a woman any differently to a man in my organization. I don’t treat Jocelyn badly because of her gender. It’s purely because she is a bitch.
I save the email into my drafts so I can send it when it’s time. The plane landing, we make our way down the stairs to two cars on the tarmac. Both Wallace and Miles are putting our bags into the separate cars. As I stop at the bottom of the stairs to thank the pilot, Miles is already ushering Victoria into the Bentley, and I walk over to the door before he closes it. I need to speak to her before we part.
Miles nods at me and walks away.
“I have sent you an email with my instructions for the project,” I tell her, then hesitate, seeing her eyes getting wider by the minute. I’m sure she thought my reaction this morning meant everything was over.
Gripping the door and doing the exact opposite to what I should, I lean in and softly kiss her cheek. Her breath hitches, and I’m frozen in time, inhaling that scent that makes my body crave hers. The feeling that races through my body being so close to her again shocks me into pulling away quickly, knocking the back of my head on the car as I escape backwards from her sexual pull she wraps me in every time.
“Fuck,” I hiss, rubbing the back of my head and standing up straight.
Victoria still looks confused at my kiss. I need to leave before she speaks.
“Thank you, Victoria, I had a good time.” Closing the door, I turn and walk away as I hear her screaming at me.
