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“I suspect she won’t be the last, either. You broke things off?”
Matt nodded.
“Because you were staring at…someone?”
“You know I was,” he said, holding her gaze. “Because you were staring back.”
* * *
After that, they had walked to the hotel elevator together. They’d both gotten rooms at the Ritz, anticipating very different endings to their nights. Matt had planned to spend the night with Patricia in his bed, Liza with her date for the gala, Davis Taylor.
Liza had given her date the heave-ho before the party had even ended, and it had bothered Matt to see her looking so…depressed didn’t seem like the right word. No. Liza had looked resigned. Like she was so used to getting the short end of the stick in her relationships, she didn’t even feel disappointment or sadness anymore.
He had to give it to her. Liza rallied quickly, bantering with him as they walked to the elevator.
* * *
“You got a room here for tonight?” she asked.
“I did.”
“Hoping for a romantic interlude?”
Matt shook his head. “Hoping for sex.”
“Oh.”
“You have a room?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Romantic interlude?” he threw back at her.
“Nope. I was hoping to get fucked. So, I’m resorting to plan B.”
“What’s plan B?” he asked as the elevator doors slid open.
“A long soak in a hot bath. And self-care.”
* * *
Matt wasn’t sure what had driven him to kiss her the second the elevator doors closed. All he knew was one second, she was reaching out to push the button for her floor, the next, he had her back against the elevator wall as he drove his thigh between her shapely legs, working them both into a frenzy.
That had been his second mistake.
And because he was on a roll, he’d made the third—and deadliest—mistake just moments later when he asked her to join him for a drink in his room. She’d accepted the invitation, the two of them making small talk on the couch in his penthouse suite. Liza had spotted the gift he’d bought for Patricia, and he had insisted she open it. Her curiosity won out as she unwrapped the diamond tennis bracelet. He’d put it on her, despite her demands that he not. He’d loved the way the gems sparkled against her skin, even as he pictured her in something much different.
* * *
“This isn’t what I would have bought if I’d been shopping for you.”
“No diamonds for me?” Liza asked.
“No. Diamonds pale next to your skin.”
“Nice line.”
“It’s not a line,” he insisted. “If I’d been shopping for you, I would have bought you rubies. I can imagine how the rich, vibrant red hue would shimmer against your skin. I’d cover you in rubies. They’d dangle from your ears. From your throat. From your wrists. And I wouldn’t stop with the traditional pieces.”
