by Shayla Black
Unfortunately, last night he’d curled her toes as no one else ever had.
“Girl! What are you doing in there? I want to see the dress!” Crystal, her friend, pounded on the door, no doubt annoying the hell out of the very professional sales associates at one of Houston’s shops near the shopping mecca known as the Galleria.
Stalling, telling herself not to try to impress Braden, Lizzie spun a slow, critical circle in the dressing room mirror.
The little black gown was stunning. The material fit her hips tightly, and the back had a slight V cutout. With its capped sleeves, the dress was simultaneously enticing and sedate.
“I mean it! Open up, Lizzie!” Crystal began knocking again, with every bit as much power as before.
“Okay, okay!” With a quick twist of her wrist, Lizzie unlocked the door.
“Girl!” Crystal exclaimed.
“Does that mean you like it?”
“Damn right I do.”
The dress was shorter than Lizzie normally chose, and she tugged down slightly on the hem.
“Don’t you dare do that. Show off them legs. That’s why you drag me to sweaty yoga three days a week.”
Actually, Lizzie went mainly to quiet her mind so she could escape the stress of her demanding job. The physical results were a bonus. “It’s hot yoga.”
“You call it anything you want. After five minutes, there’s even under-boob sweat. And I swear you’re a masochist. The Painmaker is brutal.”
Her physical trainer wasn’t exactly a pain maker, but close enough. At first, she and Crystal had gone together. Then one time, while doing a pushup, Crystal collapsed into a heap on the mat and announced she was never doing that again. She went to the locker room and never walked through the door of the fitness center ever again.
“Look at yourself. You totally rock that dress.”
Lizzy wrinkled her nose. Even though she worked out, her body wasn’t close to perfect, but the cut of the dress accented all her positive attributes and downplayed the ones she was most critical of. The dress was meant for her.
“Are you going to buy it?”
The saleswoman breezed in and bubbled over with effusive compliments. Crystal rolled her eyes and propped a hand on her hip.
For a third time, Lizzie looked at the price tag. Really, she should wear something already hanging in her closest. But after yoga and a quick shower followed by a trip to the coffeeshop, Crystal suggested they go shopping…not that Crystal needed an excuse.
“You know what they say,” Crystal started. “Don’t look at the amount. Figure out how many times you’re going to it wear it and calculate the cost that way. So, if you go to another five parties, the dress is…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I suck at math. But it’s a lot less money.”
“You’re no help.” Not once had her friend tried to talk Lizzie out of buying something. Crystal was a world-class instigator, seeming to get as much pleasure out of Lizzie’s purchases as she did herself.
“But you dress up all the time.”
She did. Lizzie worked for the Sterling brand of hotels, and she worked on opening new properties for the chain. As part of her job, she attended numerous events where they hosted exclusive parties for event and wedding planners. They also did soft openings for the bars and restaurants, and those were also upscale. At the beginning of a job, she’d be in a hardhat. By the time she was ready to wrap it up, she was in tall heels and gowns.
“I’m telling you this.” Crystal leaned forward, going for the kill. “If I was trying to impress Braden Gallagher, I’d buy it.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to impress him.”
“Uh-huh.”
Okay. So maybe she was. But she shouldn’t be.
She gave herself one last stare.
“You’re getting it, aren’t you?” Crystal whooped.
“Yes.” Even though there were a hundred reasons she shouldn’t, she nodded. Braden was dangerous. His kiss had been possessive—frighteningly so. And while he’d held her close, his erection pressed against her belly. He wanted her, and she wanted him.
For the first time in her life, Lizzy was feeling reckless.
2
“You look absolutely fucking gorgeous.”
Braden captured her wrist and drew her away behind a potted palm, away from the glare of the lights as well as the party itself.
Lizzie couldn’t breathe.
Everything except Braden disappeared. The music spilling from inside the house and voices from the partygoers on the pool deck fell silent, replaced by the sound of her rushing heartbeat.
“I’ve been waiting all evening for a chance to be alone with you.”
As she got ready this evening, this was the reaction she’d dreamed of. And yet… Just like yesterday, being the focus of Braden’s attention overwhelmed her. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Whatever it is you’re thinking.” She was fairly certain she knew exactly what was going through his mind. “Dinner will be served in a little while, and there are things I need to take care of.” His mother had hired an official event planner, but Lizzie was helping her mother, and there were always myriad details that needed to be handled.
“You wore that dress for me.”
She gasped. “I absolutely did not.”
“You most certainly did.” His grin was slow and confident. “And I’m glad. I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the moment I first saw you tonight.”
Though she’d never admit it, she’d been consumed with the idea, too.
Because she knew parking would be at a premium, she’d decided to use a car service rather than driving herself. Braden had waved off the attendants hired for the evening and strode over to help her from the vehicle, as if she were one of the guests.
He’d stolen her breath.
Yesterday, in a suit, he was handsome. Today, in a tuxedo, he was devastating. There were any number of beautiful socialites at the event, but he only had eyes for her.
He leaned a little closer to her.
“Braden…”
“You’re a siren, sent to tempt me.”
Why her? Because she was off-limits?
“Kiss me, Lizzie.”
This time, he was asking. There was no anger behind it, and he wanted her to be the one to initiate it. The truth was, she had no idea what she was supposed to do.
“Fuck. Are you that innocent?” His voice was hoarse.
She had on her highest heels, and she still had to lift up to brush her lips against his.
“Perfume?”
She didn’t normally wear any, but today she’d selected something light, with the faintest hint of honeysuckle.
“I like it. Put your arms around my neck.” Instead of waiting for her to follow his instruction, he gently took hold of her and guided her into place. “Better?”
“Yes.” Again, with more confidence, she gave him another gentle kiss.
“Woman, that might be the death of me.”
Unsurprisingly Braden took control. He kissed her, but in a totally different way than he had last night. This time, he was gentle, coaxing a response rather than insisting on one.
She tasted something strong and masculine on him, perhaps whiskey.
As the seconds passed, she relaxed into him, and he pressed one hand against her back and tucked the other into her hair. When he invited her closer, she went. His groan of appreciation reverberated through her, daring her to be bolder, and she opened her mouth wider.
He pulled back long enough to meet her gaze, then seized her mouth again.
Was this how he made love? As if it was the only thing that mattered?
But what about the things she’d seen in closet? She shuddered, imagining him wrapping her in that white rope and trailing the soft strands of the flogger over her body. From yesterday, she knew he wasn’t always gentle, but even then, he’d never lost control. So he might do more than caress her with
the strips of leather.
Heat pooled through her. Who was this newer, more reckless Lizzie? She was seconds away from reaching for his tie and plucking the ends loose.
She was grateful when he ended the kiss and reached back to unlink her arms.
“We have to stop right this moment, otherwise we’re leaving the party and never coming back.”
He was being rational. Thank God he was capable of it because she wasn’t sure that she was.
With his thumbnail, Braden traced her swollen mouth. There was a tiny fairy light behind them, enough to see something glint. His ring snagged her attention. At first she assumed it was from his college, but she didn’t see the expected insignia. Instead, there was an owl on it, with tiny emeralds for eyes.
“Don’t freshen up your lipstick.” His voice and the slight abrasion from his thumbnail crashed into her train of thought. “When I look at you for the rest of the night, I want to know I was the one who did it to you.”
Because she didn’t know what to say, she ran a hand across front of her dress, then unconsciously tugged at the hem.
“We should get back,” he said.
His words were a splash of reality in her face.
This interlude had been stupid. What if someone had noticed them disappear together?
He looked around the enormous plant, then glanced back at her. “It’s safe. You can go. I’ll follow in about thirty seconds. That will give you enough time to preserve your reputation.”
His, on the other hand, would only increase if he was caught in an indelicate situation with yet another woman.
Wondering if she’d gone a little mad since yesterday, she double-checked that there was no one around before stepping out and heading toward the house.
“Elizabeth?”
She’d almost made it across the concrete patio when a familiar voice stopped her. “Rafe?” Her heart somewhere in the vicinity of her knees, she turned to her boss.
Rafe Sterling owned thousands of hotels, and she was fortunate to work for him. She’d only been able to afford to attend a community college, but she’d worked damn hard to earn good grades, and she’d won a scholarship to Houston’s biggest university.
A couple of years ago, his company founded the hospitality school that she’d attended. Students ran the Sterling University Hotel, as well as the restaurants and coffee shop there. It afforded an unusual learning experience. In her years there, she’d served in every position, from waitstaff, to housekeeping, to barista, cashier, to front desk clerk. She’d even been a bellhop and concierge. She’d particularly enjoyed her stint as a valet because she’d had the opportunity to drive both a Ferrari and a Lamborghini.
During the last year of her studies, she’d moved into management, of various departments. And because she was at the top of her class, for the final months, she’d served as the hotel’s general manager.
Rafe himself had stayed at the hotel and had met with her.
After graduation, he’d offered her a job.
She’d spent a year abroad serving an externship of sorts, learning more about his business model and honing her customer service skills.
When she returned, Rafe approached her about moving into her current position. He’d told her it would be terribly demanding and cut her social life into tiny ribbons. But because of her experience in every facet of his operations, she was perfect for the job. It was only later that she learned that his other openers had fifteen to twenty years of on-the-job training.
Still, it was perfect for her. Houston, and her family, was home, even though she knew her next posting could take her anywhere in the world. “I didn’t realize you’d be here. How nice to see you.”
He shook her hand. “The Gallaghers and Sterlings have been friends for years.”
That shouldn’t have surprised her. Both families were from old money.
“I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
And she never would be if she wasn’t the help. She was so far out of her depth that she wanted the world to swallow her whole. “My mother has been the housekeeper here for almost twenty-five years.” From the time she discovered she was pregnant with Lizzie, scared and alone. Lizzie shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of her boss, but unaccountably she was. “I’m here to help out.”
“They’re lucky to have you.”
As always, Rafe Sterling was a gentleman.
“Tell me they’re not going to steal you away?”
“Never. I love what I do.” To make a getaway, she switched back to a role she knew well, hospitality. “May I offer you a glass of champagne? There’s also a full bar with your favorite whiskey.”
“I’ve kept you long enough. I apologize.”
“Ah, Rafe!”
The deep, sensual tone of Braden’s voice drizzled down her spine. “Enjoy your evening,” she said to her boss. She started to walk away, but Braden was there, placing his hand on her back, holding her in place.
“How are you? I see you’ve met Lizzie?” he asked as the two men shook hands.
With surprise, she noticed that Rafe and Braden wore matching rings.
“I have. Elizabeth is one of Sterling’s greatest assets.”
“Oh?” Braden asked.
“She’s one of my openers.” When Braden didn’t respond, Rafe went on with an explanation. “Every time we open a new property, I assign someone to oversee every aspect, sales, food and beverage, training, customer service, amenities, IT, that sort of thing. Of course, each department has its own manager, but they all report to that one key person until I bring on an Operations Director. The opener stays on the job through the first few weeks to ensure a smooth transition. It’s a relatively new position, and we’ve found it adds a layer of continuity that was sometimes missing.”
“Impressive,” Braden said. “You know how to run every department in the hotel and take care of all the details that go into the grand opening?” He placed his hand on her again, this time in the spot where the dress plunged into the deep V, leaving them skin on skin.
Uncomfortable at being the center of attention, as well as with the way her body was responding to Braden with a rush of pheromones, she shrugged. “The training program was comprehensive.”
“As you might imagine, I don’t hire for this position, I recruit from the top one percent of my team.”
“Aren’t you afraid someone will steal her away?”
What the hell kind of question was that? And how was Rafe supposed to answer it? In silent warning, she unobtrusively placed her stiletto on Braden’s foot. If he continued, she wouldn’t hesitate to bring him to his knees.
“Am I afraid someone will steal her away? Every damn day.” With an eyebrow raised, Rafe considered Braden. “Should I be?”
Suddenly this was beyond absurd. “Gentlemen, Sterling Worldwide has my complete loyalty. I intend to be there as long as Rafe will have me. If you’ll excuse me?”
Lizzie escaped to the inside of the house, where she paused for a second to collect herself. She was a professional businesswoman, here tonight as part of the staff.
Her mother was frowning. Obviously, from her vantage point behind the kitchen island, she’d seen the entire exchange.
“What?” Lizzie asked.
“They’re both still watching you.”
Every impulse screamed at her to look over her shoulder to see for herself, but she refused to.
“What’s going on?” Eileen asked.
“I honestly have no idea.” Lizzie shook her head. Braden Gallagher was acting possessive of her, in front of her boss, which was absurd. She and Braden had shared a kiss or two, hardly enough for him to feel as if he had the right to behave that way. “What can I help you with?” She diverted her mother back to party responsibilities, which was Lizzie’s best way out of the conversation. After all, she had no intention of confessing that she’d behaved badly with Braden.
One of the bartenders popped his head inside. “We need more champagne.”
/>
“I’ll handle it,” Lizzie offered.
“Do you know where it is?” Eileen pointed toward the farthest end of the house. “In the study.”
Interesting. That was one of the few rooms in the house that she’d never been in. Though her mother dusted and swept the room periodically, Braden reportedly never used it. The space had been designed by his grandfather and then occupied by his father, but Braden had opted to have an office upstairs.
At the end of the hallway, Lizzie turned the handle and pushed the door open. No wonder he didn’t come in here. With its oak paneling and heavy leather furniture and a Tiffany lamp, it was all but a shrine to a bygone era. Trophies lined built-in shelves. College pennants and Greek symbols were tacked up. Framed pictures were hung from the walls.
Though she should grab a few bottles of champagne from the refrigerator that had been temporarily installed in the room, she couldn’t resist a closer look at the black-and-white photographs. She recognized Braden’s grandfather shaking hands with a man who’d been the president of the United States. In another he was standing next to an astronaut.
She glanced around, taking in the rest of the photos, some featuring Braden’s father. There were a number of people she didn’t recognize in the shots, but more than a few that she did. Actors, performers, politicians, scientists.
On the oversize and intricately carved desk, there was an owl with emerald eyes, flanked by laurel leaves—a much larger replica of the one on Braden’s ring.
Intrigued, she returned to the photo of Braden’s grandfather shaking hands with the president.
Both of their rings bore the same owl.
She glanced around again, taking in the lowercase Greek Z on a banner. What in the world? Some sort of fraternity? It was another reminder of how little she knew about the man who’d kissed her.
From outside, the sound of laughter reached her, reminding her of the party.
Quickly, she grabbed half a dozen bottles of champagne, loaded them into a box, then hurried back to the kitchen, where she gave them to the party planner, who’d been on her way to find out what was keeping Lizzie.