Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
And that was enough for her to justify the savings.
So now we’re sharing a suite and I’m going to have to sleep with her right up in my space, only one wall away.
How can a woman be so appealing when she breathes?
Maybe if I hadn’t kissed her that snowy night, this wouldn’t feel so lethal. But I know exactly what it’s like, and I can’t unknow it.
Hell, I know she wants me just as bad. If the kid hadn’t barged in, I would’ve gotten drunk on her moans, shredding her clothes like a starving animal.
I keep still, ignoring the hard-on from hell, half hoping she’ll roll back to her pillow. Hoping I can stand the weight of her head, the brush of her breath, the slight tickle of her stray hair without blowing a gasket.
I can do this, dammit.
I just have to forget every biological impulse chewing me to the bone.
No big deal.
Like now, I definitely don’t want to take advantage of the quiet, half-asleep morning flight to pin her against the seat and kiss her until she wakes up with a moan.
She stirs and sits up like she can hear the argument in my head, rubbing the grog from her eyes.
“Oh. Oh, crap,” she whispers. “Sorry. You should have just pushed me off.”
“I thought you could use the sleep after all that worrying this morning.”
She gives me a sheepish smile and settles back on her pillow. “For me, this is a big deal. It’s normal to stress a little.”
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times—you’ll be fine. You’ve got passion and a damn good head on your shoulders—and if those fail you, you’ve got me.”
She gives me a pained smile.
“Whatever. Tell that to my anxiety, Your Highness.” Her eyelids flutter closed again and her breathing evens out as she turns away.
Fucking hell, this whole trip is going to be brutal.
But for her—for both of us—I’ll try to be a good boy.
For Salem’s sake, I’ll try like hell to keep my hands to myself.
The Zion Peak Resort is a gem tucked in beautiful desolation.
Nestled in the rugged desert landscape, its luxe gold and white stone stands out against the sandstone canyons and the late morning shadows spilling across the landscape like black silk.
It’s the sort of otherworldly retreat that commands respect from everyone in this industry, including yours truly.
Salem looks around slowly as we pull up, predictably awestruck. I just hope she’s still breathing while I check us in.
“Patton, wow. This place is insane,” she repeats for the umpteenth time as we arrive in our suite. It’s one of the larger units, half built into the hillside with its own private heated pool and a wide stone patio for lounging. “No wonder a night here costs more than a month’s pay.”
“It’s pricey, yes. Another way this conference gatekeeps and makes sure it only pulls in the very best,” I admit. “In this case, the admission price is worth it. Zion Peak is a desert miracle and a magnificent property.”
“We have our own pool,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Dang. I’m sorry I didn’t bring any swimwear.”
I blink away the image of her in a colorful bikini.
A man can only handle so much fire in his blood.
“Don’t know that there’ll be much time for swimming, truthfully. However, the resort has its own little mall in the main building. You’re welcome to pick out something there, if you’d like.”
“You mean if I could afford a designer swimsuit?” She scoffs.
I don’t dare offer to buy it.
I’m already in too fucking deep. I’m a dead man walking if I have to deal with her prancing around half-naked.
“But this really is wild. Ludicrous. I may just sit and dip my feet in to warm up later. I know the desert gets chilly at night…” She trails off as we walk through the main room to the lone door across from a massive bathroom.
Wait, what? Shouldn’t there be a second door to another bedroom down the hall?
She stops cold with the same question, staring at the large earth-toned bed pressed against the wall in a fully furnished bedroom while I stand behind her.
The only bed.
With my jaw clenched, I check the suite number on my card again. I distinctly remember booking a two-bedroom suite.
Anything feels safer than watching Salem’s mouth drop.
“So, uh… where’s my room?”
It’s almost laughable.
Here we are in paradise, this lovely room with its bamboo accent wall, soft colors, and crisp, white modern furnishings, feeling like we’ve just been gutted. A masterful room clearly designed for couples.
Hell, the place wouldn’t be out of place for a honeymoon suite.
Dammit. I knew I should’ve gotten that second room.
“Somebody fucked us,” I say tightly in the empty silence. “Sorry. This suite was supposed to have two bedrooms. I’ll call reception right now and—”
“No, there’s no need.” She swallows before locking eyes with me again. “I mean, there’s a sofa in the other room. And this bed, it’s enormous. We could share it and be in different zip codes.”