After our encounter in the hall, things changed. He still complained about everything, and even wrote a nasty letter to Alana, the maid Valeria had assigned to him. Apparently, he didn’t like the way in which she folded the towels.
His stay was extended indefinitely, making the staff less than excited. I, on the other hand, was finally starting to understand him after his confession.
“Really?” I asked with a quirked brow as he pointed to his latest irritation. My usual demeanor with him had become a little more relaxed.
“There are spots. On the inside.”
He wasn’t wrong about that, and based on the layer of dust around the windows, some were quite old. The windows were spotted on the outside due to the rain, but window washers came frequently to clean them. I wasn’t sure how often housekeeping cleaned the interior windows or if it was even part of their job.
“I’ll have someone come clean it tomorrow,” I told him.
His brow quirked up. “Tomorrow?”
“Are you that demanding?”
His lips twitched up. “Tomorrow is fine.”
The way he smiled at me had my heart racing.
“Oh, by the way.” I reached into my pocket and fished out the folded-up piece of paper, then handed it to him.
“What’s this?” he asked as I handed him the receipt for my book replacement. I’d warred with myself about having him pay, but the book was ruined and my budget couldn’t take the hit for more than a few days.
“The book.”
“Right.” He pulled the wallet from his back pocket and fished out a few bills and held them out to me.
Two one-hundred-dollar bills were pinched between his fingers and thumb.
“It’s only one-fifty,” I pointed out.
“Keep the rest,” he said. “Besides, I don’t have any smaller bills on me.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, and stood my ground. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
I blew out a breath. “Because I had a hard enough time deciding if I’d ask for the replacement money.”
“Why is that? It was my action that caused the damage to your book.”
“Because you’re a guest, and it was an accident,” I said as I took the bills from him. I kept one, then handed the other back. “Here.”
He gave the bill a dirty look, then shook his head. “Take it.”
“Mr. Grayson, I can’t. That’s like a tip or a bribe, and I can’t take it.” Why was he giving me such a hard time?
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll kiss you to make you stop talking.”
My mouth went slack as I stared at him. “You wouldn’t.”
He stepped forward, his hand reaching out and settling on my hip before snaking around my back. With a sharp tug, he pulled me against his chest.
“Oh, Emma, you have no idea what I would do to you.” The way he said my name was different than before. Tender, almost.
My hands rested on his chest, the bills long forgotten as I shuddered at the feel of his body against mine. Every inch of our bodies that touched was alive, pulsing with a need I’d never known. I kept my gaze locked onto the collar of his shirt, knowing I couldn’t control myself if I looked up.
“Why are you breathing so hard?” he asked.
Was I? I leaned forward, my forehead resting on his collarbone, my fingers digging into his chest. The way he made me feel with a single look was nothing compared to the system hijack of his touch. Every part of me responded to him in the most violent, lust-filled reaction I’d ever had. The intensity was dizzying.
“You should go.” His voice was thick and rough and licked at the flames inside me. His hand dropped from me, and I reluctantly pulled back.
The dismissal was so similar to previous ones, but unlike the past, when I looked at him, he was staring back. His features were still as neutral as ever, but his eyes . . . his eyes sent a shiver through me.
“Good night, Mr. Grayson,” I whispered as I turned to leave.
“Emma,” he called out.
I blinked back at him. “Yes?” He gestured to the ground and the bills that had fallen. “Oh.”
Just as I began to lean over, he stepped forward and snatched the bills from the ground and held them out for me. “I really can’t take you bending over in front of me right now.”
The fire that pulsed through my body at the thought of him being so tightly wound for me was empowering. I hoped maybe he was having a similar reaction to me like the one I was having to him.
Twenty-four hours of yearning simmered inside me as I stood behind the front desk. That was how long it had been since I’d seen my torturer, Mr. Grayson.
Just after six, the phone rang and the fire inside me flared. I knew immediately who it was.
“It’s Mr. Grayson,” Caleb said as I looked down at the phone. Without flinching, he picked up the receiver. “Front desk, good evening, Mr. Grayson.” There was a pause, but I didn’t hear any yelling. “We will remedy that right away, sir.” When he hung up, he turned to me. “They didn’t get the windows cleaned or something. He wants someone up there.”
“Meaning me, right?”
He nodded. “You’re the boss.”
I sighed. “Joy. When I get back, you can go on break,” I said as I stepped around the counter and headed toward the elevator bay.
There was a request in—I’d made sure of it—which made me wonder if there really were any spots or if it was just an excuse to see me. I really liked the latter.
It had taken me almost a half hour to calm down after I left his room the day before. I still couldn’t believe what was happening between us. I just wished we could behave like normal people and not in secret.
The walk to his room was second nature—a quick elevator ride, take a right and go down four doors. A swift rap of my knuckles against the door, and then I waited for the overwhelming force that was Gavin Grayson.
“Hello,” he said as he opened the door. No scowl to greet me, no anger. There was a small upturn of his lips, a little more prominent on one side than the other.
A shudder rolled through me, my heart doing double time again.
“What’s wrong tonight?” I asked as I stepped into his room.
“You’re not in it,” he said.
My stomach flipped, and I felt heat flood my cheeks. How was it that in a few short weeks he had taken over my heart? I wanted, yearned for his praise. To get caught up in his eyes, loving the way they would soften and grow heavy as he looked at me.
I drew in a stuttered breath as he stepped forward and towered over me. In heels I was a decent five-feet-eight, but Gavin had to be a few inches over six feet tall—a commanding presence as he loomed over me.
“Emma?” He was so close I could feel his breath on my skin.
“Hmm?”
“I want you.”
The muscles in my thighs clenched and I stretched up toward him, almost begging him closer. “Yes.”
“To stop looking at me like that.”
The haze he covered me with suddenly cleared as I looked up at him. My stomach dropped as I tried to comprehend what happened. “What?”
He stepped away, his back turned to me. All of his muscles were tense, his fists clenching at his side.
“If that’s what you want, what do you need?” I asked.
His head fell back. “I thought I’d made that obvious.”
“I’m not sure,” I replied, more than a little surprised at how breathy my voice was. “I’ve gotten a lot of mixed messages.”
He moved back toward me. “You have me conflicted.”
“How so?”
“Because the last time I wanted a woman anywhere near this much, things didn’t end so well,” he began. “Because you’re young. Because you work for the hotel and not for me.” He reached out, his fingers caressing my clavicle before slipping up my neck. “Because nothing has ever seemed as taboo as your lips.”
My knees felt weak as he moved closer, my nipples tightening. There was no resistance as I waited with bated breath.
His lips were soft against mine, supple. A taste, a sample. It was perfect, and an electric pulse moved between us. Every ounce of want and desire sat in the small gap between our lips.
A squeak left me when he suddenly pressed forward, kissing deeper and more intensely than before. His free arm wound around my waist, pulling me closer to him while his mouth opened. I followed suit, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. It was forceful and filled with more passion than I’d ever encountered, so much that it ignited an inferno inside me.
All I wanted was for him to keep touching me, to never stop.
“You should go,” he said with gravel in his voice.
I didn’t want to let go. No, I wanted to continue. To finally scratch the itch that had pestered me since the day I first met him.
“No.” My voice was breathy and so unlike any sound I’d ever uttered. I pulled his face back down as I arched up into him. With millimeters between our lips he let out a groan before pushing on my waist.
“Now,” he growled as he stepped away.
He was breathing hard, nostrils flared and his eyes so hooded that my thighs instantly clamped together.
“Go.”
I drew my lower lip between my teeth before reluctantly turning and leaving.
With each step away, my head cleared and my smile grew. My fingers ran against my still tingling lips. It was by far the best kiss I’d ever had.
One kiss, and I knew my life was changed. I wasn’t naïve enough to think we could really have any sort of relationship, but it ruined any lingering thoughts of a relationship with James.