I wake up deliciously slowly in Ace’s bed at the Four Seasons, the gray light of the early morning filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that reveal the New York City skyline. Ace still sleeps deeply, curled on his side like he’s trying to protect himself.

This is one hell of a room. I stifle a laugh when my brain finally registers that I’m in a canopy bed. It’s so over the top. And I’m pretty sure there’s gold woven into the sheets.

What’s Ace doing here? This has to be the most expensive hotel room in the city, and it’s common knowledge that he has enough money to buy several places of his own. He’s got himself a little palace on top of the Four Seasons, but he can’t stay here forever.

What do I know? Maybe he could.

My muscles are relaxed, and there’s a heat in my chest that stands in contrast with the cool of the room. I don’t remember it being so cold when we first came in, but my mind was occupied with other things. How convenient that Ace likes his rooms at the same temperature I do!

A match made in heaven, I think to myself, then roll my eyes.

I’m trying to play it off like last night wasn’t a big deal, but it was earth-shattering. Ace played me like a violin. I think we had sex three separate times, but in the middle he stroked the most sensitive parts of my folds, traced circles around my nipples with his tongue, licked his way down to the hot, wet center of me and thrust his tongue inside—

A new wave of heat rushes through me.

Should I wake him up?

No.

Too early.

I scoot carefully to the side of the bed and put my legs over the side, my feet sinking into the plush carpeting. Shower. Cool off. Wait for him to wake up on his own.

The master bathroom isn’t far. I pad over and close the door behind me.

More floor-to-ceiling windows. I let out a low laugh, because Jesus, this place is something else. I can’t decide if it’s gaudy or amazing. Maybe it’s both.

I pass up the infinity tub—maybe later—and head for the shower, which is by far the fanciest shower I’ve ever seen, and I grew up with the Pierce brothers. My own family’s house had lovely bathrooms that my mother constantly had remodeled, but this one is on another level.

I linger in the heat, shampooing my hair, letting the water envelop me and run down my breasts, between my legs.

Last night was scorching. I told myself that I’d enjoy him once, then get the hell out, but…I want more.

I want more of his hands on me. I want more of feeling so free, so adventurous. I want to do dirty, dirty things with this man…and I get the impression he’d be willing to go there, too. I want to feel his weight pressing down on me, his strength holding me in place while I buck against it….

Heat races down my spine, straight between my legs, and I turn toward the stream of water and let it fall on the back of my neck while I slip my fingers down to my clit and start rubbing in small circles. It’s been forever since a man made me feel like this, so needy.

Legs trembling, I bring myself up and over the edge of an orgasm, silent and quick. In my fantasy he comes in at the last moment and sees me, steps into the shower with me….

The door to the bathroom doesn’t open.

My shoulders tense while I dry off and work my hair into some semblance of order. There’s a flutter in my chest, a ragged heartbeat.

I can’t wait any longer.

But when I pull open the door and step back into the bedroom, everything is wrong.

Ace is standing in front of the massive windows, a dark outline against the lightening sky. The set of his shoulders tells me everything I need to know.

I swallow hard.

“Hey.”

He turns toward the soft sound of my voice, and even in the dim light of the room I can see the set of his jaw. “Good morning.” It’s not an invitation to get back into bed.

“How—how are you?”

“Fine.”

He turns back to look over the city again, and my heart plummets into my stomach. I was stupid to hope that this bliss would last longer than one night. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Ace is like all the other men.

My cheeks heat up. I’m standing here like an idiot, wrapped in a towel like I’m a gift for him to unwrap, and he doesn’t want it.

Where are my clothes?

The only silver lining is that they’re all together in a heap at the foot of the bed.

I scramble into my bra and panties, then slip the dress back up over my hips. I zip it to the best of my abilities, put my feet back in my shoes, and look around the bedroom one more time. My purse?

I dropped it somewhere near the elevator.

I’m almost out the door when Ace’s voice cuts through the silence. “Carolyn?”

“Yeah?”

His arms are crossed in front of his chest, shoulders rounded slightly to the front like he’s expecting a blow to the gut. His eyes are thunderclouds. His eyes are the center of a storm.

“We—” He raises a hand, gestures to the empty space between us. “We probably shouldn’t do this again.”

Are you kidding me? “No shit,” I say, acid in my tone, and turn on my heel and go.

My purse is right where I left it last night.

On the sidewalk in front of the Four Seasons, the doorman beckons a taxi over for me, and I slide into the back, choke out my address to the cabbie.

I don’t let a single tear fall on the way home.