In the past thirty minutes I’ve gotten four calls—FOUR!— from the Millennium staff apologizing for what happened in the LBD. They’re going to comp me for the suite for the entire week, and anything I eat or drink will also be complimentary. If I want tickets to any show in town, don’t hesitate to ask. And there’s a $100,000 tray of chips in the casino with my name on it in case I want to do a bit of gambling.

Somebody doesn’t want a lawsuit.

Alone in my suite, I hold the ice pack against my cheek for a while before putting it back between my legs.

Tempest is the perfect name for that woman. I’ve been in a few fights in my time, but don’t recall anyone ever getting off two quick strikes before I even knew I’d been hit.

And fuck if that doesn’t make me like her more.

Now if I can just figure out why she suddenly hates me. I’ve been wracking my brain, but I can’t imagine what could have happened between this morning when she left my suite and this afternoon when I walked into the bar.

Whatever it is, though, I need to find out. I’m not ready to let Tempest punch her way out of my life. At the moment, my balls disagree with me, but they’ll get over it. They were certainly fond of her last night and the night before.

I remember when I walked into the LBD, that redheaded chick with the big tits saw me and immediately strutted over to Tempest at the bar and said something. And when Tempest’s head spun around, there was fire in her eyes.

Big Red definitely knows what’s going on.

I gingerly walk to the desk and grab the phone.

“Little Black Dress, can I help you?” It’s a guy.

“Yeah, this is Maddox Ramsey, the guy who was assaulted by your employee a little while ago—”

“Mr. Ramsey, this is Max Donatello, the club’s manager. I am so sorry about what happened. That employee has been dismissed and we’re prepared to—”

“I need to speak to the red-headed cocktail waitress. Cute, very curvy.”

“Um, Mr. Ramsey, I don’t think—”

“Put her on the phone or I’ll sue your club so fast your head will spin.”

A few seconds later, a woman comes on the line.

“This is Scarlett.”

“Scarlett, this is Maddox Ramsey. You and I need to talk. Tell this Max guy you’re doing damage control and come up to the Millennium Presidential Suite right away. I think I might be in love with your friend.”

There’s a moment of silence, then she says, “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

Less than ten minutes pass before the bell rings. Setting my ice bag aside, I limp to the elevator. I politely let in the pretty redhead who is giving me a defiant face.

I immediately get down to business.

“Look, Scarlett, Tempest stayed with me last night, and it was the most romantic, magical, physically gratifying night of my entire life. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, though I’m far from an expert in these things. Just as important, when she left this morning, I was under the distinct impression she felt the same.”

I do my best to look more wounded than determined. “What happened this morning to make her hate me? Something tells me you know.”

She takes a deep breath. “She saw some texts on your friend’s phone. About the bet.”

My brain freezes up.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

This is not good. How the hell did this happen?

“You and Tempest are close?” I ask.

Scarlett nods.

“That stupid bet was made minutes after I met Tempest, because she shot me down when I hit on her. Everything that happened after that was honest and real and incredible. I understand that this my own fucking mess, but I do want you to know that this was all a mistake.”

The redhead waits. I’m pretty sure I haven’t convinced her I’m a prince.

“And yeah, I love her. So there’s that.”

Oh, great. Tears.

I swear to God I will never completely understand women.

I put my hands gently on her shoulders, careful not to seem creepy.

“Scarlett, I promise you I won’t hurt Tempest. One day, you will see me as a good guy, I swear. For now, though, I have some planning to do.”

When she’s gone, I take a long shower. That’s when I generally do my best thinking. Not today, though, because I get a hard-on every time Tempest pops into my mind. Since I came four times last night, you’d think my dick would want a nap. But there’s something about that woman that excites me mentally, emotionally, and physically on a level I’ve never known before.

Now I just need to get her back.

I go down the Little Black Dress and talk to that Max guy. I can’t let him fire Tempest. I get him to agree when I convince him the whole thing was my fault and that if he hires her back, I won’t file a lawsuit against the club, the hotel, or him personally.

That’s when my brilliant idea pops into my brain.

“One more thing,” I say. “I know this is probably against regulations, but I need Scarlett’s phone number.”

He only looks resistant until I slide a hundred-dollar bill across the bar to him.

Once I have the number, the rest is up to me.

Right now, though, I have to get back to my suite. I have a conference-closing speech to deliver tomorrow at 11 a.m. and I’ve barely started writing it.