Chapter 16
I was looking forward to the conference that wascurrently settingup in my hotel.Wine was somethingI’d like to know more about, and some of the finest vineyards in Australiawere showcasingtheir products herefor the next two days.
According to Marjorie, about six tons of alcohol had passed through the lobby today, and I couldn’t wait to taste a few of the wines. I put the ‘back in five minutes’ sign on the counter and strolled into the conference room.Dozens of people milled about, setting up their stalls, unfolding tables, hanging signs, and stacking up rows of plastic cups, and somewere sampling wine.
They were a noisy bunch, and based on their laughter and smiles, they seemed excited about the next couple of days. I strolled from stall to stall, introducing myself, checkingoutthe wine labels, making idle chit-chat, and ensuring the stallholders were all happy with our facilities.
The conference room was set up with threerows ofdisplay tables, and halfway along the middle row, a man caught my eye.He was a beacon, drawing me in like a sex magnet. Slivers of copper reflected in his dark hair that fell across his forehead with just the right amount of bounce. Broad shoulders tapered down to thin hips that moved with a fascinatingly smooth rhythm.
As I pretended to glance from stall to stall, my eyes were continually drawn back to him as he set up the booth around him. A ring on his finger flashed in the light, and it took a few heartbeats before I established that the circular ring of gold was on his right hand.
His eyes were large, almond-shaped, and framed with the longest, darkest lashes I’d ever seen. I imagined he was born from a mix of cultures. Italian, maybe, based on his dark hair, or something exotic like Brazilian. He moved with a confident grace, and the way he fingered the wine bottle captured me in ways that had my kinky insides purring.
He looked in my direction, and the way his eyes devoured me made a hot flush barrel through my insides and burned my cheeks in about three seconds flat. He smiled a gorgeous broad smile that lit up his eyes as much as his face and had my feet firmly planted on the carpet.
He waved, indicating that I should approach. I convinced my feet to move, and I stood before the sexiest winemaker I’d ever met. Actually, he was the only winemaker I’d ever met, but his looks suited his career choice perfectly.
“Good evening.”
“Hi.” I forced my brain to act professionally and scanned his setup. “Is everything to your liking?”
“Yes.” His gaze traveled up my body.“I like everything very much.” His Italian accent madewewonder if my first guess at his bloodline was correct. “Would you like to taste?” He glided his finger along a dark bottle and trailed around a gold circle at the top showing off the award-winning label.
I nodded like a child agreeing to dessert.Red wine and I were not exactly friends, and morethan one glass usually rendered me legless.But how could I resist his delightful request? Drastic measures hadbeen calledfor.
He turned, and I admired the jeans that molded perfectly to his derriere as he bent over to pluck a pair ofrealwine glasses from a box at the back of his booth. I tried to calm my racing heart as he turned back to me with a smile.
“I’m Luca, by the way.”
“Hi, Luca. I’m Jane Nichols, the night manager here.”
He held his hand toward me, and his soft palm enveloped mine. “Lovely to meet you.”
I cleared my throat and blinked. Isheflirting with me?
With expert skill and bulging biceps, Luca guided a corkscrew into the top of the bottle and pulled. The cork released with an elegant pop, and he held the bottle to his nose. With his eyes closed, he inhaled, and the expression on his face was the epitome of concentration as ever so slowly, the edges of his mouth curled withobvioussatisfaction.
“Perfecto.” The word whispered off his lips like an angel’s song.
He poured the wine into the glasses, and I was struck by how deep red it was, like a very ripe pomegranate. Luca swirled one glass around, capturing shades of red in the lights. He held it up, squinting to examine the glass closely, then nodding his approval, he offered it to me.
As I reached for it, he cupped his hand around mine and showed me how to hold the glass properly. “You must caress the glass. Hold it as if it were your lover.”
The blush already burning my cheeks bathed me in lava. Sweat prickled my forehead as he guided my hand in slow, mesmerizing circles that made the wine swirl around the inside of the glass. His body seemed to emit a warm hum that spoke directly to my libido.
“See?The wine. . . itcoats the inside of the glass.It’s a lovely full body. You will see.”
“Hmmm.” Words were my enemy right now.
“That is good.” He nodded with conviction.
As I nodded with him, I feared Imay fall undera hypnotic trance if I watched the swirling winemuch longer.
“Okay.” He let go of my hand, and it was akin to having my womb removed. “Now, we sip.” He picked up hisownglass and drank.
I copied, pouring a generous quantity onto my tongue. It was liquid heaven, and I imagined sitting by a fire with Luca, both of us naked as we savored his delectable nectar.
“And?” He raised his eyebrows and glided his hand from high up on his chest, down over his abs, and let it rest on his non-existent belly. “Do you feel it here?”
I copied him, matching the slow trail of his hand over my own body, and did indeed feel the wine warming my insides. “Yes. It’s wonderful.”
He smiled a truly fabulous smile, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Luca would be my next sexual adventure. We sipped the remaining wine in silence, and as I devoured him with my gaze, I was certain he, in turn, was examining me. Every breath he made matched mine. We were already in sync, and I couldn’t wait to continue that journey in the bedroom.
The anticipation was going to kill me.
Oh my god!He’s flirting with Jane. PlainJane. A hot flush blazed through me so quickly it was a wonder I didn’t self-combust.
I had to get away before my cheeks and neck matched the color of the wine. Swallowing dryness from my throat, I held the empty glass towardhim. “That was delicious. Thank you. But I must keep moving.”
“You’re welcome.”Our fingers touched as he took the wine glass from me, shattering my ability to utter another word, so withmy heart in my throat, I spun on my heel,and left his boothwaslike swimming through wet concrete.
Ihad to forcemy brain back into Jane Nichols, the night manager.
I continued around the remaining booths, introducing myself and assuring the other delegates that if they needed anything,thenI’d be at reception, ready to help.
By the timeI returned to the front counter and removed the sign, it was close to ten-thirty. Duringthe course ofthe next half an hour, many people left the conference room and disappeared into the elevator. When Luca left, he was chatting with another woman, but the distance they stood apart suggested they didn’treallyknow each other, which was a relief.
When the bar closed at one-thirty, a flood of people left about twenty minutes later, and I overheard several debates over where they’d go next. People came and went; conversations carried on around me. Nobody glanced in my direction. I seemed to be invisible.
All of a sudden, I was back to the insecure woman I’d been last year. I flopped onto my office chair and feltimmenselyinsignificant in the large, marbled foyer.
For the first time in three and a half years, I was beginning to dislike my job. I wanted to go out partying like these people. I wanted a social life that crept into the small hours of the morning.
What’s wrong with me?
I didn’t go partying. But now, for some inexcusable reason, I wanted to try. With a jolt, I realized I was jealous.
As I observed people crossing the lobby, I contemplated my future. My thoughts skipped from being single to being attached. That flowed onto howdifficultany relationship would be with my stupid job.
It waswith a sinking heartthat Ialso realized that my career choice may have contributed to my relationship status.
I sat up and wanted to slap myself.
I shouldn’t have been thinking like this. Especially not while I had the challenge to complete. This year was supposed to be fun.
Butcome the new year,it may be time to look for a new job.I brightened at that thought, and as the early hours of the morning crawled along, my mind drifted from what type of job I’d look for,to all the different people I’d met at the conference this eveningand mymind swooped to my sexy winemaker upstairs.
A quick flick through the check-in cards revealed that he was staying in the room next door to mine, and from that second onward, I was consumed. I pictured going to him, all dressed up and ready for sex. I pictured him naked and imagined every inch of his exquisite body. I pictured his gorgeous hands caressing my boobs and our writhing bodies glistening with sweat as we teased each other into acarnalfrenzy.
The remainder of my shift was consumedwith these erotic thoughts, and by the time my boss came and relieved me of my shift, I was practically jittery with excitement at the prospect of going to Luca.
As I rode the elevator to my floor, I contemplated going to the sexy winemaker as myself, butrealizing it would be inappropriate after I’d demonstrated my professionalism as the hotel’s night manager, I cast that frightening thought aside.
In my room, I showered and applied my Memphis makeup, completewith blue contact lenses and the long blonde wig.I chose a simple black dress that crossed over at the front to meet at my waist and flared out to a full skirt that stopped just above my knees.For alittlespice,I chose my zebra print Nilenia Givenchy stilettos and tugged the matching purse from the shelf in my closet.These stunning shoes and clutch had cost me a whole week’s pay, and it was a thrillto finally be wearing them. Thank God I’d stockpiled all these accessories, or my outfits would be boring.
With a touch of my favorite Bobbi Brown retro redlippyon, I glanced at my reflection. My conservative dress was jazzed up just the right amount with these stunning shoesand perfectly suitedmy planned meeting with Luca.
It was going to be a little weird comingout of my apartment and walking just ten feet to his.I grabbed my bag, planted a smileon my face, crossed the short distance to his room, and knocked.
The door opened a few moments later, and Iwas treatedto awonderfulgreeting. The man I’d met downstairs had increased in sex appeal in the space of just eight hours. He wore tan slacks and a white T-shirt that was tight enough to show off his bulging pecs. Yummy.
“Can I help you?” His accent was yummy, too.
“I hope so. I noticed you last night; you were setting up a table near mine, and . . . as we have a few hours to kill before we start today, I thought we could get to know each other a little better.” I offered him my sexual diva smile.
His thick brows drilled together. “I beg your pardon?” His accent wasn’t so sexy now, and I blinked up at him.
“I, um?—”
“You’ve got the wrong door, lady. I don’t do things like that.”I feltas if I’d beenpunched in the gut and slinked away.
“I didn’t see you last night. What’s your name?”
I turned and walked away and was forced to keep walking right past my door.
“I’m calling hotel management. I bet they’d like to know about you.”