7. Tessa
Chapter 7
Tessa
“H ere we are.” I opened the door to the owner’s office.
It was neat, tidy, and smelled like lemons. I needed to give Allie a big bonus. When Amos had owned the hotel, he’d crammed it full of knickknacks and artwork in heavy frames. Since he’d left, it looked much more spacious now.
Langston swept in and I got a whiff of his cologne. He smelled like sandalwood. I blinked, fighting back memories of my mystery stranger.
He strode around the desk and stood by the window.
The man made an impact. He was probably six feet tall, and his thick, black hair had a hint of curl. His skin was bronze, like he spent his days on a yacht, or playing tennis, or something. He looked like a Greek God. I’d read somewhere that his mom was Greek. He had a hell of a face—sharp jaw, just enough stubble to be interesting, and piercing, brown eyes under dark brows. I felt a stupid flutter.
You’re only human, Tessa. Anyone female—hell, and some males—would have the same reaction.
But it wasn’t just his looks. It was the sense of sharp intelligence and contained energy that radiated off him. I couldn’t imagine Ambrose Langston switching off for the day and relaxing. No, he’d put on a tuxedo and attend some fancy party with heads of state. Or have night calls with his hotels on the other side of the world. He didn’t have the time to slow down. Not when there were more deals to be done.
He stared out the window. He matched the sleek office, but not the view. He needed a city skyline behind him, not the mountains.
He turned to look at me. “This is fine.”
Oh, the praise and thanks. “I’ll arrange the penthouse and guest rooms for your team.”
He set his briefcase on the desk. His cellphone rang, but he ignored it. “Please take a seat, Ms. Ashford.”
I really didn’t want to, but he was the boss. Or the boss’ boss’ boss’ boss. I took two steps and perched on the edge of a guest chair. He sat on the other side of his desk looking… rich and powerful. Authority kind of oozed off him.
“Over the next few days, I want you to give me a full, detailed tour of the resort. Every nook and cranny. The rooms, the restaurants, the outdoor activities, the back of house.”
“A full tour.” I thought of all the things on my schedule and mentally started shuffling things.
“I want to see everything. I need to assess what needs updating, where things work well, where there are issues and room for improvement.”
So he could suck out all the charm and leave things sleek, glossy, and boring.
“Caden will run a full security check and Piper will be looking at operations.” He paused. “She’ll also be doing an analysis on knocking down the hotel and building new.”
I sucked in a breath. It felt like the floor heaved under me. I shot to my feet, my heart thudding hard. “No.”
He cocked his head. “Ms. Ashford?—”
“You haven’t seen anything yet. You haven’t seen all the good things about the hotel and what it has to offer. I’ve sent you reports. We’re profitable, guest ratings are high, and we have good staff with low turnover.”
He sat back in his chair, hands clasped on the desk. He had big, strong hands.
“You can’t knock this hotel down. It has history, and it means so much to so many people. It’s an institution here in Windward.” God, if he rebuilt, it would take years. So many people would be without a job. I thought of Allie. Hell, I thought of myself. “Give me a week. Give me a week to prove that keeping the Windward as it is would be the right decision.”
His gaze stayed locked on my face. He had brown eyes, but that one word didn’t do them justice. My eyes were dark brown, his were a shade of golden brown that made me think of expensive bourbon…or a tiger right before it pounced.
“Very well, you have a week. During our tour, you’ll have your chance to convince me that we shouldn’t rebuild. Show me what things should stay, and what needs upgrading.”
Air rushed out of me. I had a chance to save the Windward.
Still, something told me our ideas on what should stay wouldn’t mesh. He was all glossy city, and I wasn’t. “I’ll need to rearrange my schedule and delegate?—”
“Do it.” He opened his briefcase.
“I expect that everyone drops what they’re doing and scrambles to obey your orders.” I froze. Oh shit, had I actually said that aloud? Oh well, I was here now. “A please wouldn’t go astray.”
Amber eyes flicked up to regard me. “Ms. Ashford, I want you to give me a tour of my hotel. Rearrange your schedule. Please .”
“Of course, Mr. Langston,” I said sweetly. “It’s my pleasure to rearrange everything at short notice for you.”
He cocked a brow.
“You wanted honesty.”
“So I did. I have several international conference calls this afternoon. So plan our tour starting tomorrow.” He waved at the phone on his desk. “Go ahead. Inform your assistant.”
With a sigh, I approached the desk and snatched up the phone. I stabbed the number for Jazz’s extension.
“You’ve got Jazmin.”
“Jazz, it’s me.”
“Is he here?” she whispered.
“Yes. I need you to clear my schedule for the next few days, and then take care of things while I’m busy.”
“Oh, right.” Her voice lowered. “Do you need me to rescue you? I’m sure I can drum up a rescue party. I’ll recruit Enzo and Everett. They’ll help.”
I turned to hide my smile. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be busy giving Mr. Langston a full tour of the resort. If there are any emergencies, call me on the radio.”
“You got it. Good luck. If you don’t come back, I’ll send that rescue party.”
I bit back a smile. “Thanks, Jazz.”
Langston set a sleek laptop on his desk. I glanced at his briefcase and froze.
Resting inside it was a bronze mask.
A very familiar bronze mask.
Instantly, all the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. I blinked rapidly, my vision dimming.
No . Oh, no, no, no. The universe couldn’t be this cruel.
“Ms. Ashford? Ms. Ashford?” Langston’s voice sounded like it came from far away. He circled the desk, frowning at me.
Dimly, I noted his deep voice, his jawline, and the familiar sandalwood cologne.
Oh God.
He gripped my elbow and guided me into the guest chair. I dropped into it like a heavy sack.
“You’re pale as a ghost, and that’s saying something, considering you have pale skin anyway.” His brows knitted as he knelt beside my chair.
“You were at the Mountain Masquerade,” I said dully, my hands gripping the armrests tightly. I needed something to hold on to. “You made the fifty-thousand-dollar donation.”
He froze. “How could you know that?”
Then his gaze dropped to where my hands clenched on the chair…and locked on my bracelet. He stared at the citrine, garnet, peridot, and topaz, then sucked in a sharp breath.
Tiger eyes flicked back up to mine, his gaze tracing over my face. I wondered how often Ambrose Langston looked shocked speechless.
“Fairy queen,” he murmured.
I flinched, and ruthlessly ignored the hot squirming in my stomach. I’d fucked Ambrose Langston.
I’d let the billionaire owner of Langston Hotels go down on me and fuck me in the hotel ballroom.
I made a strangled sound.
He shot to his feet and raked a hand through his hair. “Well, this is…unexpected.”
Once again, the master of understatement.
Okay, I had two options. One, run out of here screaming and never come back. I pulled a face. As much as I liked that idea, it couldn’t happen. Damn mortgages and needing to eat. Two, I could pull on my big girl panties and take responsibility.
Which only reminded me that Langston had taken my thong that night.
I fought the urge to squirm and rose. My cheeks were probably on fire. I locked my shaky knees and I dragged in a breath, which meant I got a full dose of his masculine scent. I felt sensation prickle over my skin.
No, no sensation. No reaction to this man at all.
“What happened…was a mistake. As I said, I never do that kind of thing.” Now I wondered how often Langston nabbed some anonymous woman and gave her multiple orgasms. The warmth in my belly cooled to ice. “I take full responsibility, and I assure you, it will never happen again.” Because I might just swear off men and become a nun. I lifted my chin and made myself meet his gaze. “Can we please forget it ever happened?”
He was quiet for a long beat. “Can you forget that easily?”
Those words shivered through me and I swallowed. “Yes.”
No, my inner hussy yelled. I don’t want to forget. I want him to touch me again.
He gave one brisk nod. “Very well. I’m here to work, and soon, I’ll leave to head to our next acquisition.” He paused. “The other night wasn’t usual for me, either.”
Great, time to charge forward like it had never happened. “Well then, Mr. Langston?—”
He held up a hand. “I think, under the circumstances, we should drop the formalities. Can I call you Tessa? After all, we have…”
He drifted off.
Um, yeah, no polite way to end that sentence. “Tessa’s fine. I’m usually on a first-name basis with people—” I cut myself off. Oh, jeez . People who’ve been inside me? People who’ve made me come so hard I couldn’t remember my own name? My left eye twitched. “Can I call you Ambrose?”
“Hell, no.”
I jolted. “Sorry.”
“No, I mean, only my father calls me Ambrose, usually with a heavy dose of anger or disappointment. It’s Ro. My friends call me Ro.”
“Ro.” Wow, I was on a first-name basis with a billionaire. One who’d given me multiple orgasms. I really needed to get out of there and take a moment to regroup. I sighed. “I know this is awkward?—”
He grabbed my hand and we both froze. His thumb stroked over my wrist, and I felt that small touch everywhere.
Something flared in his eyes. “Tessa?—”
There was a knock at the door. Ro dropped my hand, and I snatched it back. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Piper Ellis and Caden Castro in the doorway.
Ellis was tall and statuesque, her blonde hair—a pale shade I envied—was up in an impeccable twist. I bet not a single strand would dare to come loose. She wore a plum-colored skirt and black shirt with pinstripes. I coveted both of them.
Castro was probably an inch shorter than Langston and his suit didn’t hide his strength. He had some Latino heritage, and I got the impression of power and competence. His face was expressionless, his gaze assessing. Not someone you wanted to get off on the wrong foot with.
Piper frowned, looking between the two of us. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” I said brightly. “Everything is fine.”
“Tessa is going to give me a full tour of the hotel.”
Langston’s—Ro’s—voice got my brain functioning again. I straightened. “Do Ms. Ellis and Mr. Castro need me to arrange anything for them? We have a small conference room they can use.”
“The conference room will be fine.” Piper cocked her head. “You have high-speed internet, right?”
I blinked. “Yes. We aren’t exactly in the middle of the wilderness.”
“Could have fooled me,” the woman muttered.
I glanced at Caden.
“I’d like to meet with your head of security.”
“Of course, Richard Deem. He’s been working here a very long time.” And mostly managed our security guards, and was looking forward to retirement. I filled in the rest regarding the security system, and Enzo helped, as well. The man was surprisingly good with cameras and computers.
I turned to Ro. “I’ll have the chef prepare lunch for you?”
“I’ll be on a call. I’ll order room service when I need something. Get him to prepare dinner for Caden, Piper, and me.” He gave me a curt nod, his attention already on his laptop.
I’d been dismissed. I turned.
“And Tessa?”
I glanced back.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
Heading down the corridor, I sensed Langston’s two executives fall in behind me. Piper Ellis’ heels clicked on the floor and I heard her murmur something to Castro. I wondered how many of Langston’s high-powered executives we’d end up having come through here. I’d read an article on them a few months back, when I’d first heard Langston Hotels was interested in the resort. They’d been listed as intelligent, determined, and ruthless.
When we came out in the lobby, it was busy. Guests were checking out and a few were checking in early. Off to one side, Sierra was chatting with a couple dressed in outdoor gear. No doubt giving them hiking directions.
Jazz appeared and out of view of the others, I gave her a look. She bit her lip as she headed my way.
“Jazmin Garcia, this is Piper Ellis and Caden Castro.”
“Welcome to Windward,” Jazz smiled brightly.
“Can you please show Ms. Ellis to the conference room? She’s going to use that as her office. Mr. Castro would like to meet with Richard.”
I glanced back and saw Castro’s gaze sharpen on something across the lobby. Glancing that way, I wondered what had caught the intense man’s attention.
“Who’s that?” he asked, voice curt.
I frowned, trying to see through the group of guests gathered at the concierge desk. Then I realized he was focused on Enzo.
“Enzo Rossi, our concierge. He’s an invaluable member of our team.”
“How long has he worked here?”
“Two years. Is there a problem?”
Castro glanced back at me. His eyes were so dark they looked black. “No.” Then he strode away.
“You get used to that,” Piper Ellis said. “The man is not much of a talker. Now, Ms. Garcia, let’s see that conference room.”
Then I was left alone.
I glanced around the lobby again, at my staff, at the smiling guests checking in.
I’d slept with Ambrose Langston. God, that was going to take more than a little bit of time to process.
Still, we’d agreed to forget it had ever happened. I’d try my best to never, ever think of it.
Liar , my inner hussy whispered.
Onward.
I had a tour to plan.
There was no way I was letting Ro Langston tear down this hotel. I felt the responsibility settle on me like a heavy blanket.
I’d convince him to keep all the charm of the Windward intact.
Whatever it took.