“One other deal point. You must always wear red lipstick. It becomes you.”
Yeah, he was a genius. A total fucking genius.
Chapter 11
By the time I was back in my hotel room, I regretted what had transpired between Jaime and me. I threw myself into packing my belongings, trying to forget, but the throbbing between my legs and the thudding of my heart made it impossible.
What the fuck had I gotten myself into? I made it a point never to mix business with pleasure and now I had crossed the line big time. I had let this impossible man fuck me. Right on his conference room table! How the hell were we going to work together? This was so fucked.
As I folded up my red bandeau bathing suit, other memories of this week whirled around in my head. Our first encounter on the elevator…our first meeting…the Gloria’s Secret Fashion Show…the after-party…our dinners…our swim…the pitch. A wistful smile—and a tingle—accompanied the flashbacks, and then I mentally kicked myself. Why the hell did I let him do the things he did? How could I—this supposedly powerful, in control, respected woman—be so submissive? So taken? No man had ever done this to me before. And it wasn’t just his breathtaking looks and his sexual prowess, though that counted for a lot. I was irresistibly drawn to his cocky, confident personality and his outrageous creativity. His brilliance. I’d never met a man like him. He challenged me. He made me fall apart and then put me back together—making me feel more complete, more alive, than I’d ever felt.
Confession: I hadn’t taken a shower. Yes, a little gross, but I wanted to wear the essence of him for as long as I could. Given the three thousand or so miles that separated us and the Internet that connected us, it was unlikely that we’d see other again soon. As I latched the last of my Louis Vuitton travel trunks, I longed for him to knock down the door and fuck my brains out on it. Damn it! He had me bad.
With a disconcerted heart, I called the front desk to have someone collect my mountain of LV luggage. The one thing I was not was a light packer.
The valet came promptly. I followed him to the elevators, my bags piled high on his dolly. I was so hoping, when the elevator doors parted, Jaime would be there, his cocky smile and those sexy denim blues in my face. Ready to take me in his arms and consume my lips with his. Wishful thinking. As the express car descended to the lobby, our first awkward encounter in this elevator replayed in my head. The moment his eyes held mine had been the beginning. And then our fingers touched—a spark of electricity. I shuddered; I could still feel it. Was Madame Paulette right? Was it love at first sight? With a heavy sigh, I wondered: had it been the same for him?
When we reached the lobby and the doors parted, my reverie ended and reality set in. I was going back to Los Angeles. Back to the hectic but solitary life I led. Kevin was flying back with me on the corporate jet while Vivien was staying behind to get some shopping in over the three day weekend ahead; Monday was President’s Day and our office was closed.
Following the valet, who was wheeling my luggage to the hotel entrance, I passed by the bar. Friday night, happy hour. It was packed. “Undercover Lover” was playing in the background. I recognized the Kids in Glass Houses song because we’d once used it in a James Bond-themed Gloria’s Secret Fashion Show. My eyes took in the boisterous crowd, and then they grew wide. I stopped dead in my tracks. My breath hitched painfully. At the end of the bar, facing me was Jaime Zander. And all over him was Vivien Holden, one hand fisting his tousled hair, the other cupping his ass, their mouths interlocked. My blood ran cold. I was right. He was into her. I was just another conquest. Another fuck he could add to his stable.
Jaime’s eyes caught my mine, frozen with shock. He broke away from Vivien and sprinted my way. I rushed off, my steps quickening until I was running in my six-inch heels to the entrance of the hotel.
“Wait, Gloria!” I heard him shout.
My insides wrenched at the sound of his voice. I didn’t look back. Fuck him! The two words looped around my brain. How could he use me like that to win my account? How stupid could I be? Tears stung my eyes. Thank goodness, Kevin was waiting for me at the entrance.
“Come on, Kev, let’s get of here.” I hooked my arm in his and pushed him through the revolving glass door.
Outside the hotel, in the semi-circular driveway, Nigel was waiting for us with the town car. My bags had already been stowed away in the trunk. I hopped into the car, with a baffled Kevin following behind me. Nigel closed the door and returned to the car. “Lock the doors!” I yelled to my trusty driver.