Page 2 of Worth Every Penny
Fucking idiot.
I make a mental note not to pick up women in one of our hotels again, and quickly calculate the risks of telling her my real name. She could Google it in thirty seconds, so I figure I might as well.
“Nico.”
“Nico.” She clicks the consonants like she’s tasting it. “Nice name.”
“Thanks.” I don’t ask for hers. I don’t need it.
She heads back into the bathroom, and the water starts running this time. I take the opportunity to get dressed. I hate putting on last night’s clothes, but at least I had the presence of mind to hang up my suit and fold my shirt.
The hotel phone rings and I pick it up. “Yes?”
My brother speaks. “Breakfast? I hear the full English is good here.” Seb sniggers at his own joke.
I don’t return his amusement. “How many people are in your room?”
“I’m alone.”
“You’re shitting me.”
He laughs, and I can picture that one-sided dimple on his cheek that women seem to love. It’s the ultimate contrast to the strong Hawkston jaw we all share.
“They just left,” Seb admits. “I’m pretty sure one of them nicked a hand towel. Took the fucking toiletries too. What’s up with that?”
“Token of a great night?”
Seb laughs again.
“Or maybe,” I say, “You made them feel so filthy they needed the extra soap.”
“Both. Definitely both.” He chuckles, then his tone changes. “So, food?”
“I can’t. I’ve got a breakfast meeting with Jack Lansen.”
“About their boutique hotel chain?” Seb perks up at this.
“Yup. We’ve got to thrash out the details, but we’re close to agreeing on a figure.”
I pin the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can brush a hand down my crumpled sleeve.Damn. Looks like I slept in it. Thank God it’s only Jack I’m meeting. He’s my best friend and won’t care if I turn up hungover and in last night’s clothes, but my pride isn’t keen on the idea.
“Rather you than me.” Seb groans. “I’m so hungover, I couldn’t negotiate shit right now. Is Kate coming?”
An odd contraction occurs around my heart.Kate. Jack’s little sister. “No,” I say, dissociating from whatever the fuck is happening inside my chest. “She’s not involved.”
Seb makes a contemplative hmm-ing sound, but before I can wonder what he means by it, the woman reappears from the bathroom, swathed in a plush, white towel. I hang up on my brother without saying goodbye.
She gives me the once over. “Goddamn, you look good in a suit. I think you might be the hottest man I’ve ever fucked.”
Heard that before. “I’m blushing,” I deadpan.
She giggles. “Are you sure you don’t wanna do this again?”
“Once is more than enough.” My voice is completely neutral, but I imbue the words with just enough respect to placate her. “But thank you.”
Her brow creases, like she’s unsure if I’ve insulted her. She must decide I haven’t because she drops the towel, props one foot on the end of the unmade bed, and starts massaging the Hawkston Hotel’s body lotion into her thigh in long, lingering swipes.
She’s in no hurry to get out of here.