“I’m going to make a habit of going to bed with you every night.” She doesn’t reject the idea, and I continue. “Let’s have dinner at my place tonight.”
She considers for a moment. “Okay.”
“Will you spend the night?”
She grins. “Yes, of course.”
Now I wish it were evening already. “Come over straight from work. Don’t bring anything.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll see.” I’ve been working on a surprise for her, and if she likes it, we’ll probably spend more time together. As the car edges through the traffic, I hand her a keycard for my apartment at the Swanson Court. “We added some security measures at the hotel, but this will allow you to access my apartment whenever you want.”
She reaches for it, slower than I would have liked. What is she thinking? Does she think it’s too soon? She slips it into her purse and looks up at me, her face unreadable. “Thank you.”
I wish I knew what was going on in her mind. “I’ll leave for San Francisco on Thursday morning. A plane will be here for you Saturday morning, and I’ll have someone take you to the airport.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “To me being gone?”
“No!” She laughs softly. “To joining you on Saturday.”
Happiness unfurls in my chest as I look at her, along with a feeling I can’t explain or identify. I squeeze her hand. “Can you go out tomorrow night?”
“Yeah. What’s happening?”
“A friend of mine…” I stop and smile when she gives me a teasing look. I have friends, Rachel. “A friend of mine is launching a new product for the American market, some new European champagne brand. There’s a mixer, and I want you to come with me.” As my date.
“Of course.” Her dimple dances on her cheek. “I’d love to.” The car stops in front of her office and she places a quick kiss on my lips. “Enjoy your day.” She reaches for the door handle.
“Wait.”
She stops and I pull her back for a proper kiss. She responds with a familiar urgency, her tongue twining with mine in a dance that brings my cock to life. “I’ll see you tonight,” I whisper.
She nods in agreement then she’s gone, leaving my world just a little less bright.
I work late, and it’s torture knowing Rachel is waiting for me. When I can’t take it anymore, I end the last conference call and head home.
At the hotel, the doorman looks like he wants to say something to me but then changes his mind. My thoughts are focused on Rachel, so I barely notice.
Inside the apartment, I see that she ordered dinner. Her jacket is on the sofa in the living room. Upstairs, I find her purse in my bedroom, but she’s not in the apartment.
Alarm bells start in my head.
Where is she?
Her phone rings and rings but she doesn’t answer. I try again and it goes straight to voicemail.
“I’ll find out from the doorman,” Joe assures me when I call him. He calls back a few moments later.
“What happened?” I bark into the phone.
“She left about half an hour ago.”
Left where?
“Did she take a cab?”