Chapter 2
Alyssia
“Mr. Townsend, we at the Palazzo apologize for the double inconvenience of your evening …” the hotel manager, who arrived five minutes after the technicians got our elevator unstuck, apologizes to the guy standing beside me profusely.
“Double inconvenience.” What’s that about? I wonder to myself.
My eyes have a mind of their own, forcing me to glance over once again and take in this Mr. Townsend’s perfectly sculpted jawline. It’s covered by light brown, almost blond strands of hair from a neatly trimmed beard.
The hairs of his beard set against the golden-brown shade of his skin is an interesting contrast. Match that with the striking seafoam eyes, the thick, slashing eyebrows, and short but curly light brown locks and it makes for a pretty tempting package.
Too bad I don’t bother with men this attractive.
Not worth the trouble.
I take a step sideways to create more space between our bodies. While I could’ve sworn his full attention was on the manager, his gaze cuts over to me the moment I move away.
The way his eyes narrow a smidge feels like a scolding. As if I’ve done something to garner his disapproval and he’s giving me a slim chance to fix it.
Even as my temper tries to flare in rebellion, my heartbeat finds its way down to the space between my thighs.
It’s that awakened desire that wins out over my common sense, and I take a step closer, erasing the gap I just created.
He gives me another glance, his lips spread into what could be interpreted as approval.
“Just Travis is fine,” he tells the manager.
So that’s his name.
“I’m sure it’s a technical issue that’ll be taken care of as quickly as possible.”
The authority in his voice surprises me.
I want to know who he is. At what I guess to be around six foot one, he towers over the hotel manager by at least six inches, but it’s not his height that’s earning him such deference. The apologies being thrown his way suggests he’s a celebrity or something.
With a face like that I highly suspect he’s done some sort of work in front of a camera.
I wrack my brain trying to recall if I’ve seen him in any films or television shows. Not likely since he doesn’t have a French or Korean accent, which make up about ninety percent of the media I watch these days.
“And your companion. Were you hurt, madam?” I blink at the manager whose eyes are now on me.
“Oh, I’m not his—”
“It was touch and go for a minute there,” Travis says, casually slipping his arm around my waist.
My mind glitches at his audacity.
But my body? Well, it has a different reaction entirely. I actually lean into him.
“Isn’t that right?” he asks, staring down at me.
The entirety of my concentration collapses down to his lips that form a perfectly shaped bow. I want to trace it with my finger.
Never have I ever paid such close attention to shape of a man’s mouth. But this man …
That mouth starts moving, forming words I don’t hear the first time.
“What?”
“Is there anything these gentlemen can get for you? To make up for the trouble of being inconvenienced.”
No, nipples, do not harden!
The sound of his voice. It’s all smooth, deep, and a direct invitation to the space between my thighs that has continued to host its own heartbeat.
And his arm is still around my waist.
“N-No.” I clear my throat. “I’m fine.” This I say to the manager because I can’t stare him in the eyes for too much longer without losing a piece of my sanity—as if I haven’t already.
“Thank you, gentleman.”
“Thank you, Mr. Town—Travis. We look forward to seeing your performance this weekend.”
Oh, so he’s a performer. I wonder what kind. Musician? Acrobat? Stage actor?
I’m still mulling over career options when I notice the manager and hotel technician are halfway down the hallway.
That’s when I finally gather myself enough to step out of his hold.
“Well, that was an adventure.” I brush invisible lint off of my dress before lifting my chin. “Thanks for your help in the, um …” I tip my head in the direction of the elevators. “I’m heading to my room now.”
I go to take a step and stop. My gaze moves upward toward the top of the elevators.
“Fifty-three?” I shriek. “How did we make it to the fifty-third floor?”
“You don’t recall that interesting ride we took up?” he asks, moving in front of me.
I grit my teeth to keep from snapping at him. The idea of having to get on the elevator again to go back down to my room on the twentieth floor, causes a droplet of sweat to form at my temple.
I've had enough of being trapped in tight spaces for one night. A lifetime, really.
“I guess I’ll take the stairs down,” I mumble to myself.
“Or,” he drags out the word, “I have another idea.”
My forehead wrinkles at the not-so-subtle innuendo in his tone. I would say it’s a turn off, but my already hardened nipples and the strumming between my legs calls me a liar.
“Do I even want to know?”
He holds up the box of food in his hands. “Are you hungry?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and suppress the butterflies that decide to make an appearance in the pit of my belly.
I go to tell him no, but what comes out instead is, “I haven’t eaten dinner tonight.”
I’d planned to order room service after Kandace left to head back to her hotel where she’s staying with her husband.
“Let me feed you.” He lifts an eyebrow and smirks. “It’s the least I can do for reminding you that your troll boyfriend was the one to dump you and not the other way around.”
My breath hitches. “I’ll join you under one condition: that we drop him as a topic of conversation.”
The movement of his shoulder as he lifts and lowers it is sexy as hell. “Fine by me. I don’t like talking about people who aren’t relevant anyway.”
I raise an eyebrow at his cockiness.
“Dinner,” he says.
The next thing I know, his strong, firm hand wraps around mine, guiding me to the door of his suite.
The last thought I have as I enter is, I am not going to sleep with this man.