Chapter Twenty
CALLIE
I awoke slowly, my eyes blinking open to an unfamiliar room. Panic flared in my chest as I tried to remember where I was.
Then it came back to me.
London.
Penthouse.
Emmett.
I propped myself up on my elbows, taking in the king-sized bed with its plush duvet and throw pillows in shades of cream and taupe.
Heavy brocade curtains framed floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over a still-dark Hyde Park.
An overstuffed armchair sat in one corner, next to a small table holding a modern-looking lamp.
The decor was tasteful but luxurious, much like Emmett himself. I smiled at the thought.
Then I scolded myself. I couldn’t get caught up dreaming about a life of wealth and privilege with Emmett. There was more to him than money and lavish hotel suites. It wasn’t fair to reduce him to that.
Still, as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and felt the plush carpet beneath my feet, I had to admit his lifestyle had a certain appeal. These sheets alone probably cost more than I made in tips on a Saturday night at the club.
I shook my head, forcing myself to stand. I needed coffee if I was going to be of any use today.
I crept into the suite’s living area and found a shirtless and devastatingly sexy Emmett already awake, pouring two mugs of coffee from a stainless steel carafe. He looked up as I entered, his gaze traveling appreciatively over the thin silk of my pajamas. My nipples tightened.
“Morning,” he said, holding out a mug. “I thought I heard you stirring.”
“Thank you.” I grabbed the mug and clutched it in front of me like a shield. “What time is our meeting?” I asked, trying not to notice his amused look.
“Not for a couple of hours yet.” He leaned against the counter as he surveyed me. He sipped his coffee and licked his lips. “Plenty of time.”
The meaning was clear.
Shameless flirt.
I shook my head, trying to look stern. “I’m going to go get ready.”
“Callie.” The rough timbre of Emmett’s voice stopped me in my tracks. He set down his mug, closing the distance between us in two strides.
Heat radiated from his body. The hunger in his eyes reflected my own as I took in his bare chest. It was lean and sculpted, decorated with a smattering of dark hair that led south. I didn’t want to know what I would see if I looked below his waist.
He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. His touch was gentle—almost reverent—as his fingertips slid down and brushed across my lips. I gasped.
“So responsive,” he whispered, running his hand down my neck, across my collarbone. He rested his palm against the side of my throat, stroking his thumb across my pulse point. “I need to taste you again.”
I couldn’t help it this time. My gaze slipped lower, and I saw the tell-tale bulge in his gray joggers.
Good God, he is huge.
“Callie, eyes up here.”
My head jerked up. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. All I could do was stare up at him, heat erupting in my chest. He made me feel too much.
I backed away. His hand dropped and his expression followed suit. I turned on my heel and scurried back into my room. Slamming the door behind me, I leaned against it, heart pounding.
What was I doing? Sending very mixed signals, at best. At worst, screwing things up between us before they had even begun. My brain wouldn’t stop reminding me that he was my boss.
I pushed off the door and walked to the closet, grabbing my favorite black belted sheath dress. Then I did my hair and makeup, hoping to look as professional as possible. At the very least, I could do that.
When I emerged an hour later, Emmett was waiting by the elevator. He wore a fitted navy suit with a white button-down shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, offering a peek of his exquisite chest. A chest I had been seconds away from teetering forward and kissing not long ago.
He smiled as I approached, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. I did my best to ignore the guilt tugging at my insides. We had to maintain proper boundaries.
The elevator ride was awkward and tense. I kept my gaze forward, acutely aware of Emmett’s presence beside me. I longed to lean into him, to feel his warmth and strength again. But that was inappropriate.
When the doors opened, we stepped into the opulent lobby. Chrome light fixtures illuminated the marble floors and sleek, tasteful furniture. The warm, brown and white shades of the space made it feel welcoming and comfortable while still exuding sophistication and luxury.
“Quite the place, isn’t it?” Emmett said, breaking the silence as he noticed me observing our surroundings.
I nodded. “It’s beautiful.”
“Do you need anything before we go?”
Ever the gentleman, even when he was hurting.
His expression was still warm, still gentle.
The man cared more about other people than he did himself, and he would respect my boundaries.
I knew I’d been leading him on; but, honestly, I couldn’t help it.
No man had ever had this kind of effect on me—certainly not Hugh.
I needed to get it together.
“Cal?”
“Oh, shit, sorry. Just distracted. I’m fine. I don’t need anything. We can go. Lead the way.” I gestured forward, hiding my awkwardness behind a fake smile.
Emmett smiled and shook his head, his eyes warming further. “Come on, then.”
He led the way through the tall, glass door of the lobby to where a porte-cochère stretched along the front of the hotel, lit by hundreds—no thousands—of strings of twinkling lights. It was breathtaking in the pre-dawn light. I must have missed them last night in all my excitement.
I’d have to come back someday—explore all the tourist attractions I had only seen from the limo window.
On the side of the porte-cochère opposite the lobby doors, expensive sports cars were parked in a neat, shining row.
Emmett strode toward the waiting black limousine just beyond the valet stand.
The black-suited driver opened the door.
It was Eddie, the same man who had picked us up at the airport last night.
“Good morning, Mr. Price, Miss Winters,” he said, smiling politely.
“Good morning, Eddie. Thank you for driving us today.”
Eddie’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling. “You’re most welcome, Miss Winters.”
I slid into the limo beside Emmett. As Eddie closed the door, he shifted away from me on the leather seat and stared out the tinted window. He was trying to keep his distance, respect my boundaries.
Frustration simmered inside me. I didn’t want him to keep his distance. But I also didn’t want to jeopardize everything I had worked for. Something had to give. But for now, I’d stick to work. That, I knew. That, I could handle.
“Emmett, can I ask what you expect from me during this meeting today?”
He turned to me, eyes softening and jaw relaxing. “You’re here to learn, to observe. But I value your opinion. If you have any questions or concerns, I want you to feel free to speak up.”
I preened under his praise, a pleasant flush warming my cheeks. He respected me, valued me professionally, treated me as an equal. That was so rare to find in a man, especially one of his status.
“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate you saying that. And I’ll do my best to contribute however I can.”
He nodded, gazing at me for a moment before turning back to the window.
* * *
Three hours later, we emerged from the imposing skyscraper, back out into the chilly London air.
Adrenaline pumped through me. I had done it—contributed to the conversation, asked thoughtful questions. Emmett said as much, praising me for catching a mistake in the paperwork that could have cost the company weeks.
“You were amazing in there,” he said, his hand grazing my lower back.
Pride ballooned in my chest. I’d never had this kind of support. Emmett made me feel like I could conquer anything.
“So, what’s next on our agenda?” I asked as we strolled down the sidewalk.
He flashed me a smug smile. “Nothing. We’re done with work for the day.”
“I thought we had that conference call later?”
“Nope.” He shook his head, eyes glinting. “The rest of the day is about celebrating my birthday.”
“Your birthday?” I mentally kicked myself for not knowing. “Emmett, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Don’t worry about it. I planned out the whole day for us.”
Taking his arm, I gave him a severe look. “Uh-uh. You do not plan your own birthday celebrations, mister.”
Emmett smirked, covering my hand with his. At the crosswalk, he turned and cupped my chilled cheeks. His warm palms were like heaven.
“Okay, I promise you can plan the festivities next year,” he said.
Next year. My heart fluttered. What kind of future did he envision for us? Colleagues? Friends? Something more?
“Fuck it,” he grunted. His lips met mine in a kiss that seemed to answer my question.
Shit.
I think I just fell for my boss.
* * *
Emmett spent the day showing me just how much more he would give me.
The sun was setting by the time we hopped into the limo parked outside Buckingham Palace.
We’d spent the afternoon visiting all the major tourist destinations—Big Ben, the London Eye, Westminster Abbey.
My feet ached from walking, especially in my super-cute-but-not-very-practical boots, but I couldn’t keep the giddy smile off my face.
“Thank you for an incredible day,” I said, leaning into him as the limo pulled up to the hotel. “I can’t believe you planned all this.”
He grinned and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “The day’s not over yet. Go get changed for dinner.”
He held out a hand to help me from the car, and he didn’t let go as we made our way up to the penthouse.
Back in the luxurious comforts of my suite, I freshened up with a warm shower and slipped into an elegant black cocktail dress and my signature pumps.
I released my hair from its professional chignon and let the soft waves fall down my back.
A few swipes of mascara and gold eye shadow enhanced the green of my eyes and set my skin glowing.
My mind replayed the day’s events—the sights, sounds, and emotions that had filled it to the brim.
Emmett had been an excellent tour guide, making sure I saw everything on my bucket list. Throughout the day, he kept finding small ways to touch me—a hand on my back, playing with my fingers, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
Each casual caress left me craving more.
My attraction to him burned stronger now, and it went well beyond the physical. I was falling for the thoughtful, charming man who treated me as his equal.
Satisfied with my appearance, I stepped into the living room. Emmett stood by the window, staring at the city skyline. Dressed more casually now—fitted, dark wash jeans and an ivory sweater, with his coat slung over a forearm—he turned his appreciative gaze on me.
I shivered in anticipation of whatever he had planned next.