He nods and stands. Having him out of reach frees up a roomful of oxygen and I fill my lungs with the precious air. I need to get us on a different topic, something with less of a direct line to my libido.
“What are you doing for work in Vegas?” I ask.
He eyes me warily. “A few different things.”
“Such as?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m spending a few days with you alone. What if your job is a mafia hitman?”
He grins. “Then you’re in more danger than you thought.”
I gulp. “I’m going to need you to deny that you aren’t one. Now. Thank you.”
His laughter fills the cabin, the cashmere back in full force. “I’m not a hitman. I’d venture to say you’re safer with me than with anyone you know.”
“That makes me feel better.”
“Glad to hear it.” His cheeks are split in an easy, wide grin. There’s a softness to him that I haven’t seen before and it sets me at ease in an instant. I just hope that safety pertains also to my heart.
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
Twirling slowly in the center of the living room of our suite, I take in as much of the grandeur as I can. Even though we’ve been in the hotel for almost an hour already, I can’t get enough of this place. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen what I think are some pretty magnificent places with Presley. The suite is classic and beautiful, with crystal chandeliers looming everywhere, marble on the counters and floors, and attention to detail on everything from the throw pillows to the vases filled with fresh flowers.
The echo from the door closing in the foyer rings through the room. I hear Fenton’s shoes squeak against the tile and nearly lose my breath when he rounds the corner. He’s wearing a dark blue suit and crisp white shirt, his hair damp from the shower. Seeing him never fails to make me weak, but in a suit—I’m a puddle. He’s so divine, so perfect, I can’t believe my eyes. And when he flashes me the grin like he does just now, I nearly drop to my knees.
“Everything look all right?” he asks.
I want to let him know exactly how all right things look from my perspective and that it has nothing to do with the room, but rather the man standing in front of me. His jaw tenses as he waits for my reply.
“This is just spectacular, Fenton,” I coo, deciding to keep it about the more permanent features. “Honestly. I don’t even know what to say.”
He saunters towards me in what would appear a relaxed manner, but it’s not. I can see the truth in his steely eyes. He’s on a mission—for what, I’m not sure. But I’m hoping to know soon.
I nibble my bottom lip and watch him near. His features have darkened, the playfulness of only moments ago now long gone. He stands so close we nearly touch, but the bastard doesn’t allow that to happen. That would be too easy. I’m learning that he likes to torture me with his self-restraint, something I thought I had in spades but he swipes away with his deft skill.
“This is my favorite room in this hotel,” he says, looking down at me. “But I have a feeling after this week, it’s never going to look the same.”
“Is that so?” I gulp.
He grins. “It is. Or I hope so, anyway.”
I start to respond when he reaches out and touches the side of my face. His skin is smooth and warm as he caresses my cheek, his thumb stroking my jaw deliberately. My breath hitches in my throat and I fight not to lean into his touch. It would be too easy. Way too easy, and I want to show him I too have some restraint. Maybe. Barely.
“I have to work for a couple of hours,” he says.
“What?” His words are like cold water being dumped on my head. I guess the suit should’ve been a giveaway, but it still shocks me that he’s leaving me already.
He drops his hand and chuckles. “I do. Just for a little bit. I did come here to work, remember?”
“Oh, of course. I just . . . I . . .”
“Did you have something else in mind?” he teases.
My cheeks heat. I shake my head, my long locks swishing against my shoulders.
“I think you did, Brynne.”
He tips my chin with the touch of his finger so I’m looking at him again. “I’ll tell you a secret. I had something else in mind as well. But something has come up and I have to go. But what you had in mind? We’ll get to it, I promise. Whatever you envisioned, I’ll make happen.” His head bows slightly, leaving a shadowy look to his features. “And I’ll make it happen in a way you’ll never forget.”
He removes his touch and I instantly miss it. Crave it. Need it.
“When the time comes, I don’t want to be rushed. I want to take my time with you. That’s the reason I’m not touching you right now, okay? I want that to be very clear.” He leans in, his breath dancing across my cheek. “When I finally touch you, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”