As I admire him, his eyes skim over the other people in the lounge and land on me. He takes in Jack, whose hand is still over mine on the table, and as I watch, his eyes grow a few degrees colder.
Still, he walks towards our table, his eyes never leaving mine. I don’t even feel Jack pull his hand away, or see him as he follows my gaze to see Landon. All my attention, my whole being, is focused on the insanely sexy man walking towards me.
When he reaches me, he surprises me by taking my face in his hands and giving me a deep toe-curling kiss that leaves me flushed and breathless.
He releases me, and I sway on my seat. Then he straightens and turns to Jack, who’s looking at me as if I’ve committed some huge betrayal, and stretches out a hand. “Landon Court,” he says.
Jack rises to his feet and takes the proffered hand. “Jack Weyland.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Landon says, though there’s no trace of the stated pleasure in his voice or face. “You write for Gilt as well, don’t you? Are you here for work?”
Jack looks at me, then back at Landon, “No, I’m here to see Rachel.”
The challenge in his voice is not lost on me, and Landon notices it too, I’m sure. He just chooses to ignore it. He turns to me, “You ready?”
“You’re leaving?” If I didn’t know better, I would say Jack sounds hurt.
“Yes,” I reply, getting up without looking at him. I’m still reeling from Landon’s kiss. “I had a great time.”
“Yeah,” Jack says woodenly, “me too.’
Jack doesn’t follow us outside, for which I’m grateful. I can’t even imagine how awkward it would have been for the three of us. Especially with Landon’s arm positioned possessively around my waist.
I don’t complain. Not only because Landon fried my brain when he kissed me, but because I felt a little pleasure from seeing the expression on Jack’s face as I left with Landon. It’s an inadequate revenge for the two years I spent pining for him, but nevertheless, it makes me feel good.
I follow Landon to the elevator. His hand is still around my waist, building a slow heat on the surface of my skin. As soon as the doors slide closed, I turn to face him.
“What was that about?”
His face is bland. “What exactly?”
“Coming here. Kissing me in front of Jack. Acting as if I did something wrong by going out...”
“I wasn’t aware that my actions were so out of place.” His eyes are fixed on my face. “I came here because I wanted to see you and I was tired of waiting. I kissed you because I wanted to.” He stops. “What exactly is the problem? That I interrupted your reunion with your boyfriend?”
Before I can answer, the elevator stops and the doors slide open. I follow him across the lobby to the street, and a few seconds later, a car parks in front of us.
“I came in one of the Rosemont cars,” I tell Landon.
“Your driver has already returned,” he replies, pulling open the door of the car.
I get in with a sigh, waiting for him to join me. “First of all,” I say calmly, “Jack’s not my boyfriend. Secondly, I don’t think it was necessary for you to flaunt our… arrangement in his face like that.”
“Why do you care so much?” Landon asks. “What is he to you?”
“It’s not about him,” I retort.
“Isn’t it?” he challenges. “I seem to recall that exclusivity was one of your condit
ions for agreeing to this arrangement. Did that particular condition apply only to me? Am I supposed to sit back and accept the fact that you went out with him, the same man with whom you had a fight in my hotel the day we met. He’s the reason you were crying in the elevator, and he came all the way over here to see you. Talk about a grand gesture.”
My planned response freezes on my tongue. How had he known about my fight with Jack in the Swanson Court, and about me crying in the elevator?
He takes in my puzzled expression. “Security cameras, Rachel. How do you think I found you? I had dinner with my brother that night. He was trying to convince me that hookers were a better deal than relationships, and he offered to send me one. I refused. When you appeared in the elevator, I thought he’d ignored me, as usual. You didn’t leave your number, and I couldn’t get you out of my mind. So I called him, and he turns out he had no idea what I was talking about. I had the security team at the hotel review the tapes to find out who you were, and I saw them too. I saw your argument with Jack Weyland, and I saw how distressed you were afterward.”
I’d wondered how he found me. Now I knew, and I couldn’t stop wondering how many other things he knew about me. With the resources he had at his disposal, he could probably find out anything he wanted, not that I had much to hide, but still.
“Did he come here to apologize?” he continues, “Am I standing in the way of some romantic reunion?”