Chapter 7 Maeve
Maeve
As soon as we finish our little talk, I glare at Brody’s retreating back.
Dad’s got a lot of nerve, sending my younger brother down here with more demands when I don’t want any of them in the hotel in the first place.
While that’s not Brody’s fault, as the bearer of bad news, he’s the lucky recipient of my irritation. The wine only worsened my patience.
I’ll try to remember to apologize next time I see him.
How am I supposed to go back and face Kellin after that? The dinner was going so well, despite the first interruption, and now I’m cranky and frustrated and—
A warm hand lands on my shoulder, causing me to jump. My heart leaps into my throat as I whirl around to face this new threat.
Beside me, Kellin reclines against the bar, the hand I threw off still in the air. “Everything okay?”
Crap, he scared me. Embarrassment roots in my chest.
Calming my heart, I manage a nod. “Yes, I… Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you.”
Kellin glances at the door and then back at me. “You sure?” His voice becomes a low, sultry murmur. “Do I need to kick someone else out of here?”
Unbidden warmth flushes through my system. Why am I enjoying his soft-spoken threat? Usually, I abhor that kind of behavior—and violence in general.
“That won’t be necessary.” I can’t hold back my smile. “Just my little brother being a little brother.” Not the complete truth, but Kellin doesn’t need the details.
“Got it.”
“You didn’t have to wait for me. Especially after I ate most of your dessert and abandoned you.”
I steal another glimpse of him while he’s standing so close. Dark eyes glittering in the overhead lights. A sharp, aristocratic nose. Stubble on his jaw. A broad chest beneath that suit. A scar on his right hand.
I focus on that mark and on the way he manhandled that drunk idiot earlier. On the shadows that flicker over his face.
Maybe…he’s not so white collar after all.
The thought intrigues me. I want to ask about that scar. About where he learned to handle people so easily. How to switch from charming, polite businessman to seductive, heat-inducing sinner within a heartbeat.
Kellin’s gravelly laugh travels all the way down to my toes. “If this were a date, I wouldn’t have waited around.” He gives me a blindingly perfect grin. “But this isn’t a date. It’s a…” He trails off, one brow cocked expectantly.
“Business meeting.” I chuckle a little, my shoulders relaxing. “Right.”
“And if this were a date, I’d walk you home. But since this is a business meeting,” his head tilts to the side like an innocent puppy, “why don’t you walk me home instead?”
An illicit little thrill zips down my spine.
Walking Kellin to his door is an undeniably terrible idea.
I should say good night immediately and retire to my own room.
Instead, a few minutes later, Kellin and I wait side by side in front of the elevator bank.
The professional part of me screams to leave him here.
Don’t go upstairs with him. Have you lost your mind?
Kellin’s a grown man. He doesn’t require an escort to his suite.
He asked me because…well, I’m not quite sure why. What I do know is that this day seemed determined to test me.
A temperamental chef yelled at me, and my dad pushed me around.
Twice. A guest embarrassed me and tried to attack me in front of an audience.
And, as the cherry on top of my crappy sundae, my annoying little brother interrupted an important business meeting with another one of my father’s absurd requests.
And now I’m here, with the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’m drawn to him, a fluttering, idiotic moth to his magnetic flame.
I should say goodbye now. I’ve had too much to drink and far too much excitement for one night.
But it’s just up two floors.
Ugh, why did I drink all that wine? Because when I’m around him, my stomach writhes with nerves? Or because he brings even the long-dormant parts of me to life?
The elevator dings, doors sliding open to reveal a vacant car.
Once we’re inside, I realize my mistake.
We’re utterly alone.
I stare resolutely at my own reflection in the mirrored wall, ignoring Kellin at the edge of my vision. The scent of him—clean, earthy, a little musky-sweet—washes over me. His warmth is a personal furnace. I think I may just die of heat stroke.
As we travel up, Kellin clears his throat. “I know how difficult family can be.”
I glance at him, but he doesn’t return the gesture. “Oh?”
“I come from a pretty chaotic household myself.” Authenticity underscores his words.
I get the impression he isn’t just placating me. “Yeah? Do you have two brothers and a tyrannical father too?”
A throaty laugh slips out. “Not exactly. One brother and one sister, both younger.” He sobers, his voice softening. “My dad died about ten years ago.”
My heart sinks. I peer straight ahead, trying to control my expression so he won’t see exactly how much I can relate.
I suck in a breath. “I’m so sorry. Parents, good or bad, leave a void when they go. I understand that all too well.”
He exhales. “You’re right about that.”
I peek at his reflection.
After a bit, he meets my gaze. “But that’s why we work so hard, isn’t it? To fill up that empty space.”
Stunned, I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.
Because he’s right. Would I hustle this much if I weren’t trying to flee the hell I grew up in? If I weren’t trying to fill the empty space created by my mother’s death? For years, I’ve done nothing but attempt to escape the void before it swallows me whole.
Somehow, Kellin gets that. Gets me.
An eventuality I never anticipated.
“You’re not what I expected.”
His eyes bore into mine in the mirror. Electricity sizzles between us, charging the air. If I reached out, I fear my fingers would come away singed.
“I could say the same about you.”
The elevator jostles as it nears his floor. We both shift, shoulders bumping. Heat burns through my skin from the contact.
Kellin steadies me with a hand against the small of my back. The touch is featherlight but may as well be a fifty-pound magnet. I resist the urge to press back against his palm.
Control yourself.
I’m a professional. He is a professional. We’re just ending a night of business talk over dinner and dessert. There is no reason for me to act this way. Nothing’s going to happen.
If only my traitorous body would get that memo.
By the time we exit into the seventh-floor hallway, my entire body vibrates with the strain of holding myself together.
We stroll toward his junior suite, his magnetic pull drawing me closer with every leisurely step.
He keeps sneaking glimpses at me. I only notice because I do the same to him.
During this short walk, we’ve already caught one another staring four times.
We’re like kindling just waiting for the strike of a match to go up in flames.
I’m ready to throw in the towel and say screw it.
Since this hotel opened, I’ve dedicated my entire life to its success. To running a business of my own and escaping whatever destiny my father decided for me.
For once, I want to succumb to temptation and choose something just for me. What’s wrong with that?
Nothing crazy. I just want to kiss him. One little taste to silence the desire flooding my system.
One kiss to get him out of my system.
When we arrive at his door, I touch his arm as he reaches into his pocket for the key card. “Why did you ask me to walk you home?”
Kellin shifts toward me. Though he hides it well, I catch the flicker of heat in his eyes. The magnetic force draws me to him. I see my own desire reflected back at me.
His sexy mouth quirks into a half smile. “I suppose I’m selfish.”
I recline against the door, blocking the lock as the breath I take goes nowhere. “Am I allowed to be selfish too?”
Kellin’s eyes skate down over my body—god, why didn’t I wear a sexier dress?—before he rests his arm on the door beside my head and looms over me.
“Is that what you want?” His voice is low. Dirty. “To be selfish with me?”
I lick my lips and watch him track the movement. “I think I do.”
Kellin cups my chin. His rough fingers tilt up my face. I hold my breath.
He closes in, enveloping me in whiskey and cologne that I inhale with a soft gasp. His forehead presses against mine, his lips a breath away.
My hands settle on the lapels of his jacket. Even through his clothing, this man’s body is rock solid. And emitting so much heat that he practically scorches me. His eyes are dark above me, pupils black and wide and staring so, so intently. I shudder beneath the scrutiny.
His mouth is right here. Just one kiss—
He leans away, his thumb brushing across my bottom lip. “Not yet.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. My cheeks flush with shame.
How could I let this happen? I got so carried away, and he doesn’t even want me.
What the hell am I doing?
I may not have kissed him, but I can kiss this business deal goodbye. I’ll be lucky if Kellin agrees to even speak to me again.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” With my head spinning, I struggle to form words. I’m not sure if it’s the wine or Kellin, but either way, I need to get out of here, regroup, and try to salvage whatever I can tomorrow. “I’m an idiot. It’s just business—”
“That’s not what I said, Maeve.” Kellin’s eyes glitter like stars as he rubs his thumb against my lip. I suck in a gasp. “Not yet.”
Not a rejection. Not an apology either. No, his response is a future promise. A tease of delayed gratification, if I can only be patient.
This is the first time a man’s denied me. Then again, this may also be the first time I pursued a lover versus the other way around. Not that I’ve shared my bed with dozens of men or anything, but none of the ones who ever expressed interest said not yet.
This is entirely separate from the business. From the investment. This is Kellin, not Zenith. He’s the one calling these shots.
That realization scorches me and attracts me to him all the more.
“Thank you.” Kellin drops his hand and backs away. “For admitting your interest.”
Liquid fire pulses through my veins. I stand motionless, unable to form a coherent response.
He grasps my hands and gently tugs me away from the door.
He murmurs, “Goodnight, Maeve,” as he slips into his suite.
I stare at the wood, my fingers itching to turn the knob and follow him inside.
I’m so incredibly screwed.