As Taylor fastened her seatbelt in first class, she couldn’t decide if luck was on her side or if she’d stepped into a black hole of cosmic hell. While she rejoiced at the chance to see Jagger again, ghosting out on him probably hadn’t earned her any points. Either way, she had to own the situation. And it sucked.

The airplane accelerated down the runway and she stared out the window. For what seemed like the fiftieth time, she replayed their evening, and the zing of arousal skittered through her. Taylor had never liked her body. But being Raven had bolstered her confidence. Knowing she’d never see Jagger again had freed her to do things she’d only fantasized about. But even if he had played her, Jagger Loving had pleasured her in ways she’d never even imagined. For one amazing night, he’d owned her. Body, mind, and soul. And she’d loved every minute of it…until now.

Jagger Loving was her client and that meant one thing. Hands-off.

When the plane went wheels up, she pulled out her laptop. Time to find out about Loving Resorts and the powerhouse of the man behind them.

Each property catered to different clientele. Loving Bora Bora offered the ultimate romantic getaway with private villas in an exotic paradise. No kink events offered, but the promise of a sensually gratifying adventure awaited behind closed doors. Clothing required in public areas. There was a six-month lead time for reservations at this island oasis.

Loving Switzerland was designed with the outdoor enthusiast in mind. This property boasted a little something for everyone. Activities ranged from sweet romance to ultra erotic. In certain areas, like the Jacuzzi room, clothing was optional. This hotel was booked solid eight months in advance. Holy cow.

Loving Mexico catered to “the lifestyle”. Couples could partake in everything from carnal pleasures with others in the playroom, to workshops that focused on expanding BDSM play. At this resort, nudity was permitted everywhere but the lobby, restaurants and bars. The hotel booked four to eight weeks in advance, depending on the time of year. The more she read about this sexy resort, the more she fidgeted in her seat.

A year ago, Taylor had been tasked with planning an erotic performance event for her boss. Though she’d been a professional planner since college, she’d never booked anything like that. Wrought with anxiety, she almost quit. But working with Chastity had been a godsend. The booking manager for sex-play club, Uninhibited, had promised her a quality show and had guided her through the set-up. Taylor simply needed to find out which sexual positions Colton wanted to see. Whether he wanted couples, threesomes, or small groups. Would there be audience participation? What were expectations following the show?

Despite her excellent working relationship with Colton, Taylor communicated via email. She didn’t have the nerve to discuss the steamy show in person.

When the big night arrived, Colton had invited his employees, plus a few dozen friends. In order to ensure the program met her boss’s needs, she’d monitored the exhibition from the back row…and about died as couples glided and gyrated their way toward orgasms while his guests watched with cool indifference. Deep down, she’d envied the performers’ uninhibited nature. Sex for the thirty year old had consisted of the missionary position with the lights out.

Even after that mind-blowing spectacle and the subsequent parties she’d booked, Taylor had remained somewhat of a prude.

Until I—well, Raven—mauled Jagger in his hotel suite.

After typing “Loving Malibu” in the search field, she clicked on the hotel link. Grand opening events included a daylong cocktail party and the Valentine’s Day masquerade party that same evening. That’s it?

She found a brief reference to the club’s policy on nudity. Guests could shed their clothing on a secluded section of the private California beach, but that sexy tidbit had been buried several clicks into the site. Taylor chewed the inside of her lip. The Loving sizzle was missing. Where’s the promise of a sensually indulgent vacation? And this hotel had plenty of available suites, with some of the more expensive rooms being offered at a discounted rate. Wow, that’s not good.

While Taylor didn’t want to discuss anything erotic with Jagger, she wouldn’t be able to dance her way around the problem. She wiped her clammy palms on the napkin and glanced out the window. Why is he veering away from his signature branding?

Armed with enough information to have an intelligent conversation with her new client, she refocused her search on him. The first article highlighted his early career. Within three years, he’d fast-tracked his way to the top of a small hotel chain, jumped to a larger one, and then secured an executive position. From what she could find, he wanted to spice up the hospitality landscape. With the help of several investors—one of them being Mitus—he opened his first Loving Resort.

The article read like the typical go-getter workaholic who loved what he did and strove to be top dog. He was well regarded and well respected in the industry, and was an active member of the Hospitality and Lodging Association.

Then, eighteen months ago, when Loving Mexico opened its doors, the articles shifted from Jagger’s career to his social life.

Jagger Loving has done it all, seen it all, and pretty much nailed them all. Some women want him for his bucks, others for that rockin’ hot bod, but all the ladies can agree about one thing. Loving makes them purr. Eager for a piece of the action, they come from miles around. And from what we’ve gathered, Loving isn’t turning them away.

Her stomach dropped. No strings, no regrets rang hollow in her ears. He did play me.

She continued reading. A year ago, Jagger’s life as an international playboy came to a screeching halt when he got caught frolicking with hotel guests.

Not only had he been blackmailed, but a visit from an ax-wielding husband had forced him to hire a bodyguard. A few months later, the situation had been resolved to everyone’s apparent satisfaction and Jagger Loving stopped being front-page fodder for the tabloids. In fact, Jagger Loving disappeared altogether. Until this week, when the press snapped a photo of him talking with a homeless man in DC.

As the plane made its final approach into Los Angeles International Airport, Taylor glanced out the window. Nothing but bright blue sky and a trail of cottony clouds in every direction. But all she saw was red.

Even carefree Raven had been an easy mark for the skilled womanizer. And I felt badly for walking out on him!

For the next several days, she’d separate her personal feelings from the job at hand. For all she knew, he’d slept with ten women since bedding her.

Armed with knowledge, she exited the aircraft and, with her head held high, made her way toward baggage claim. Several drivers dressed in black suits and white dress shirts stood in a row, their tablets displaying their clients’ names. She spied hers on the tablet of a jittery blond dressed in a light pink shirt, khaki’s, and flip-flops. If she wanted, she could breeze right past him, catch a return flight, and tell Colton she wasn’t up to the task.

What would Raven do? She wouldn’t have thought twice about Jagger after their hookup. Melissa’s advice, make bold choices, struck a chord. Squaring her shoulders, Taylor set her sights on the slender man, and forged forward.

If Jagger Loving needed an event director, that’s exactly what he’d get. Nothing more. Nothing less. Save for the heart palpitations, the sweaty palms, and the churning in her guts, Taylor would bring her A-game.

“I’m Taylor Hathaway. Are you with Loving Resorts?”

“Whew! The angel has arrived to save us from an opening flop! I’m Robby. Robby Sutton, Mr. Loving’s assistant.” The grinning man pumped the hell out of her hand. She smiled. How could she not? Someone associated with Loving was happy to see her.

“I’ve got to grab my bag.” Taylor plowed toward the luggage carousel with the other passengers.

Robby sent a text. “Letting my boss know I’ve got you. He’s cleared his schedule to spend the afternoon with you.” The assistant prattled on and on as suitcases tumbled from the conveyor. Eager passengers grabbed their bags and left.

They waited and waited and waited. The area grew deserted. Two suitcases remained and neither were Taylor’s. The nausea she’d been fighting returned with a vengeance. “I’ll have to file a claim.”

Robby followed her into the small office. The clerk apologized, took her information, and told her they’d call once they’d tracked her suitcase. Besides her carry-on bag filled with bathroom necessities, she had nothing but the clothes on her back. A simple black pants suit and white blouse. Taylor exited the airport with the chatty assistant, and a splitting headache.

Over an hour later, they pulled into Loving Malibu and Taylor’s mouth dropped open. Website photos didn’t do justice to the magnificent property. Gawking, she hopped out of Robby’s vehicle. A seven-story building proudly boasted LOVING on the front. The earth-colored structure reminded her of beautiful adobe-style architecture so prevalent in the southwest. Manicured gardens, with perfectly placed palm trees, dotted the landscape.

She followed Robby inside, but slowed to a stop in the pristine lobby. Everything about Loving catered to the senses. Soothing clay-colored walls created a perfect backdrop against the stark-white furniture. Lush, green foliage in ornate potted planters adorned every available corner, and several vibrant bouquets added bursts of color throughout the elegant space. She had to admit, Jagger had great taste. A crew of workmen lugged paint cans while others carried carpeting or pushed supply carts.

“Right this way.” Robby gained speed as he flitted down a hallway. “These are the executive offices.” He opened the door at the hallway’s end. “Please.”

As Taylor crossed the threshold, her fingers tingled with pins and needles while her heart hammered in her chest. Angst replaced confidence. She was about to face the only man she’d hooked up with, and believed she’d never see again.

With his back to her, Jagger sat at his desk, staring out ocean-facing windows. That deep, smooth-as-silk voice rumbled through her. “My event director arrives today.” Silence. “Of course I won’t talk to the media until you get here.” More silence. “I understand your concern, Kate.” Phone to ear, he swiveled in the chair, and his cool glance slid from Robby to her.

Recognition flashed across his handsome face. Subtle, yes, but there nonetheless. When a shadow darkened his eyes, a shiver swept through her. She tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t budge.

“I’ve gotta run.” He hung up. With a smoldering gaze, he rose. After fastening the button of his charcoal suit jacket, he offered a smile as stiff as a mannequin’s. “Jagger Loving. Welcome, Taylor.”

“Taylor Hathaway, Mitus Conglomerate.” Though her cheeks flamed, she wouldn’t break eye contact. She clutched the back of the guest chair while he seemed to draw immeasurable strength from having home turf advantage. And the fact that he was her client gave him the win. He was in control. She was there to serve him. And she could think of several ways that had nothing whatsoever to do with work.

He extended his hand. She slipped her quivering one into his. Like the first time, the electricity from his firm grip sent a whoosh of energy through her, and that invisible puzzle piece snapped into place. She surveyed his face, his closely trimmed goatee and moustache, and that mouth made for sex. But when their eyes locked, she couldn’t deny the effect he had on her.

Total annihilation.

He might be a womanizer, but he had ruined her for any other man. She wanted to hate him for that, but she couldn’t.

“The airline lost Taylor’s luggage,” Robby said, breaking the thick silence.

As Jagger regarded her pants suit, his eyes turned stormy. “Robby, please buy Taylor some clothing in case her luggage never arrives. We can’t have our event director running around the hotel nude.” His wicked grin wasn’t wasted on her.

“Good God, no!” Robby exclaimed. “Should I take her with me?”

“Taylor stays with me.” Those four simple words oozed power and control. And so much potential.

“Do you want me to take her on a tour of the property, first?” Robby asked.

As if he had all the time in the world, Jagger stroked his goatee. Back and forth. Up and down. He’d touched her with the same achingly slow pace. In spite of her uneasiness, she couldn’t ignore the arousal pounding a line to the small space between her legs. She hated it. She loved it. Either way, she couldn’t stop it.

“Later.” Jagger hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she’d stepped into his office.

Drowning in his intensity, she wanted to cling to the assistant like a buoy.

Robby stepped back and gave her the once-over. “How tall are you? I’m guessing five six or five seven.” He glanced at her flats. “Do you wear heels?”

“Stilettos,” Jagger answered. “Size eight.”

Warmth exploded inside her chest. He found my shoes. She didn’t trust her own voice, but she had to forge forward. “Yes, I…I wear heels at work. Size eight.”

Pausing, Robby eyed them. “Do you two know each other?”

Taylor froze.

“I only ask because,” Robby waggled a finger at Jagger, “you seem to know an awful lot about our new—”

“Robby,” Jagger interrupted. “Less talking, more action.”

“Right.” Robby shot Taylor a sheepish smile. “No worries, I’ll buy you everything from lingerie to an evening gown, though, nowadays, sexy nighties can be worn as formalwear. Sizes please.”

Jagger didn’t budge. Taylor had every right to demand privacy and step into the hallway to speak with the assistant. But Jagger had touched her, penetrated her, shared in her fantasy, and confided one of his own. Passing along garment sizes seemed insignificant when compared with all that. So, she rattled them off.

“I’m a runner and would love to take advantage of the California sunshine,” she concluded. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to squeeze in—”

“I’ve got you covered.” Robby finished jotting everything down before shouldering her carry-on bag. “I’ll drop this in your suite.” After a quick smile, he dashed out.

Alone with Jagger.

A low rumble ripped from the back of his throat, like a growl.

He’d hid his massive ego well the night they’d met, but here, on a Loving property, he was, without question, the one in control and the one with all the power. He exuded confidence. He oozed sex appeal. And she squirmed under his commanding gaze.

The giant wall clock ticked slowly compared to her speeding heart. Should she confess? Should she apologize for not telling him her real name and for vanishing the next morning?

“I’ll need your phone number.” His words were a command, not a request. “And this time, you’re going to give it to me.” Damn if he didn’t arch his eyebrow at her.

As soon as she did, her phone buzzed.

All thumbs, she fumbled in her handbag, found her phone, and read his text. “Welcome to Loving.”

“Thank you, Mr. Loving,” she murmured.

When he stepped into her personal space, her breath quickened. She wanted to nuzzle the exposed skin in the V of his white dress shirt. Those damned kissable lips would be the death of her. When she peeked up at him, he was waiting.

“Call me Jagger.” His piercing glare cut right through her. “Do you go by Taylor or is there another name you’d prefer I use?”

For a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes as the unspoken truth danced on the tip of her tongue.

* * *

Very little ruffled Jagger, but when Robby returned from the airport with Raven, his mind had stalled. Why had she flown clear across the country to see him when she’d snuck out before dawn yesterday? And what the hell had happened to his new event planner?

And then, reality kicked in. This raven-haired beauty was Taylor Hathaway, sent by Colton. He had a myriad of questions. Why did she leave? Why didn’t she jot down her number? Why continue to lie when they were alone, and why in hell had she made up that story about her aunt after he’d told her about being homeless? He’d made a judgment call that this woman was different. But she wasn’t. Would he ever learn his lesson? He wanted the damned truth, for once, and then he wanted to ship her back to Virginia.

But his back was against the wall. He needed her expertise to bail him out of an opening disaster. With calculated intensity, he repeated the question. “Do you go by Taylor or is there another name you’d prefer I use?”

“What do you want me to say?” she asked, staring into his eyes.

“The truth, this time.”

She hesitated, her sapphire eyes stirring up a volcano of need. “Taylor. My name is Taylor.”

“Thank you, Taylor. Please, have a seat.” Jagger waited until she sat in a guest chair before sitting behind his desk.

He tapped his phone console. “Yes, sir,” answered a man. “Has Ms. Hathaway arrived?”

“Yes,” Jagger replied. “Coffee and sparkling waters, please, Rico.”

“Right away, sir.” The line went dead.

Jagger’s all-business persona was laced with confidence and a chilly demeanor. On purpose. He wanted her to get the job done and go home. Being played had soured his opinion of her.

As he studied her face, he couldn’t deny her sublime beauty. Even her rigid spine and pursed lips didn’t detract. But none of that mattered now. “Taylor, I despise deceit, so I’m going to be candid. Obviously, we’ve met. We had a fun night. Do you have any plans to blackmail me or go public with what happened?”

She crossed her arms, a flash of anger darkening her eyes. “That was personal. I would never—”

He held up his hand, cutting her off. “Good. Let’s move on. Did you familiarize yourself with my resort line?”

“Yes.”

Time would tell if she were being honest. He leaned back, crossed his legs. “I made poor choices when I lived in Mexico. But thanks to my publicist and my attorney, I’m back on track. This hotel is a reflection of that. It’s the opposite of my Mexican resort, on purpose.”

A knock on the door interrupted him. “Come in.” A server rolled in a cart and set up a fruit tray and beverages on the side credenza. “Thank you, Rico.”

“Yes, sir. Good day, ma’am.” Rico closed the door on his way out.

Jagger rose. “Coffee? Can I fix you a fruit plate?”

“Just water, please.”

He poured her a glass, handed it to her.

Though Taylor smiled, anxiety laced her eyes. His resentment was replaced with a sudden urge to comfort her. Like the evening of the auction, he wanted to wrap her in his arms, then kiss her breathless. The pull he’d felt the night they’d met surged through him.

Hands off. He needed to keep his focus on work, no matter how badly he craved her. If word got out that they’d hooked up, the media would run with that. Didn’t matter that they’d had sex before she worked for him. She worked for him now.

After filling his mug with coffee, he sat in the second guest chair. To be near her. Because he couldn’t stay away.

“My event director bailed, leaving the planning team flying blind,” he continued. “Before I introduce you, we need to be on the same page. Instead of being sold out, my hotel is limping along at sixty percent occupancy. That’s unheard of for a Loving grand opening. It’s no secret that events drive sales, and we need more activities. My guests expect to be pampered, entertained and revered.”

“Then you won’t take offense at what I’m about to tell you.” After setting down the crystal glass, she rested her interlaced fingers in her lap. The atmosphere crackled with undeniable contention, while he waited for her to continue. “You’re not sold out because this hotel is like every other one in a hundred-mile radius. The Loving sizzle is missing. There’s nothing edgy or sexy happening here. If you’re not open to changing things up, I can be out of your hair and on the next flight back to Virginia.”

He gritted his teeth. Well, fuck me.