She finally stopped crying and leaned back so she could look into his eyes. “Why are you here?”
“I got stuck . . .” He stopped before he hurt her feelings with the truth. “Regan was worried about you. You weren’t answering your phone,” he explained. “She knew I was out, so she called my cell and asked me to stop by and check on you, and it’s a damned good thing I did.”
“Why? As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” She sniffed.
Aiden said, “You were sprawled at the bottom of your steps.”
“I was sitting, not sprawling,” she corrected.
“Wearing this flimsy see-through nightgown.”
“You can’t possibly see through this material.” She looked down and saw that her robe was open, exposing a fair amount of her breasts because of the gown’s low neckline. “Oh,” she said as she quickly pulled the robe closed. She glanced up and met Aiden’s eyes. He was looking at her in a way he’d never done before, as though he was seeing her for the very first time as a woman. A warm, tingling sensation coursed through her body.
“Let go of me and go home. I’m fine, I promise. Tell Regan I’ll call her tomorrow, and thank you, Aiden, for taking time to check on me.”
Her arms were still around his neck. She leaned up and kissed him on his cheek, then started to move away, but he didn’t loosen his hold. He continued to stare into her eyes as though he was searching for something inside her.
The strangest thing happened then. Maybe it was just curiosity to find out what it would feel like, or maybe it was just plain lust on her part. She kissed him again, this time on the lips. He didn’t pull away. He nudged her chin down and gently kissed her back. Then, taking her face in his hands, he deepened the kiss, passion igniting when his tongue swept inside her mouth. He was so incredibly hot and demanding, overwhelming her. He made love to her with his mouth while he caressed her. His hand cupped her breast and he groaned.
Aiden was lost in the moment. It was only when he felt her tremble that he came to his senses. He pulled back, forcing her to let go of him, then lifted her off his lap and dropped her onto the bed.
Cordie was so flustered she didn’t know what to say or do. She could see he was upset. He walked to the door, turned back to her, and said, “I’ll lock up. You get some sleep.”
And he was gone.
She sat there a long while trying to make sense of what had just happened. She’d ruined everything. She was embarrassed and mortified. What must he think of her? She’d all but attacked the man. How could she ever face him again? Maybe she was overreacting. It had just been a few kisses—long, intense, unbelievably arousing kisses that all but turned her inside out—but they meant nothing.
After she calmed down she came up with a plan should she run into him anytime soon. She would behave like an adult. Yes, they had shared an intimate moment, but it was still possible to go back to the way things used to be. He would ignore her, and she would do her best to ignore him.
Monday Cordie was back at work. She was busy, but Aiden kept popping into her thoughts. As the days progressed, it became easier to push him to the back of her mind. Each night she went through one of the boxes her father had packed when he’d sold his house. She assumed it would be easy to find more information about her mother, thinking that there had to be some papers or photos stashed away in one of the boxes. But she was wrong about that.
The last three weeks of school were hectic, and the search to learn more about Natalie was put on hold. She made a copy of the horrid letter and took it with her when she met her friends for dinner at the Hamilton Hotel. She had tried to get them to eat somewhere else because she didn’t want to chance running into Aiden, who lived in the penthouse at the top of the hotel. He traveled so much he was rarely there, but still, she didn’t want to risk it.
Then, during a phone conversation with Sophie, after Cordie had suggested two different restaurants, Sophie mentioned that Jack and Alec were going to be at the hotel playing poker with a couple of the Vice detectives from the Chicago Police Department.
“It’s their monthly poker game,” she said. “Jack thinks he has a chance of winning a hand or two since Aiden is still in San Francisco. Whenever Aiden plays, he wins.”
Cordie relaxed. She was worried she wouldn’t be able to control her reaction to him, and she had decided the only way she could move on with her life was to stay as far away from him as possible. She was more determined than ever not to turn into her father and waste her life hoping for the impossible.
After a stressful day rushing from one meeting to another, then enduring a frustrating session with the principal of St. Matthew’s, Cordie was ready for a glass of wine.
Regan had reserved one of the smaller private dining rooms at the Hamilton so they wouldn’t be disturbed. The room was just off the bar, and with the doors closed it was nearly soundproof, a perfect place to share secrets and gossip. They could laugh as loud as they wanted and not worry about bothering other diners. On the other side of the bar, tucked into an alcove, was the door to another dining room, one the men used for poker games. It was isolated from the rest of the hotel but close enough to the bar to get beer and anything else they wanted.
Cordie was supposed to meet her friends at seven thirty, and she hadn’t had time to go home and change her clothes. Dressed in a cream-colored pencil skirt, a deep-blue silk blouse, and nude high heels, she had looked very businesslike all day in her meetings, but she would have preferred to be wearing something more comfortable when she was with her friends. Her hair was driving her crazy hanging in her face, so she put it up in a ponytail. The long mass swung back and forth as she rushed through the shiny brass revolving doors into the Hamilton.
Cordie loved the hotel. There was a quiet elegance about the place. It had a contemporary feel with the shiny marble floors and granite pillars, yet the furnishings were old-world. The soothing colors and the comfortable seating areas made guests want to linger. She knew the Hamilton like the back of her hand; she had visited it at least once a week when Regan lived there before she got married.
Cordie realized she was practically running across the lobby and forced herself to slow down. A man dressed in a business suit and tie tried to engage her in conversation as she entered the bar. She smiled at him and shook her head to his invitation to buy her a drink. She walked past him and opened the door to the dining room but was blocked from going any farther. Aiden was standing just inside the doorway talking to Alec and Jack. He grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her from rolling over him.
She wasn’t happy to see him and said the first thought that came into her mind. “Why aren’t you in San Francisco?” Her tone was accusatory, which she realized wouldn’t make a lick of sense to him. Before he could ask her what was wrong with her, she blurted, “Are you playing poker tonight?”
“Yes, I thought I would.” Aiden smiled then because he heard Jack groan. Glancing at him, he said, “Relax, MacAlister. You might win a hand. You never know. Miracles do happen.”
Cordie was distracted by his wonderful smile. It was so sexy. He was such a beautiful man. His eyes turned warm and tender when he was happy. Smiling was a rarity to him, though. He was usually very serious about everything, especially when he was working on his next hotel deal. There was no question Aiden was a workaholic, yet somehow he made a bit of time for rugby, poker, and women . . . skinny blond women.