It’s a different kind of physical desire. More an … indescribable pull I feel toward her. Tessa isn’t a mere conquest. I want to discover what makes her her. In all my years, I’ve never experienced this feeling with any other woman. I’d always thought it was a fairy tale. Maybe I’m wrong to carry on after her, but I don’t want to miss out on the chance if I’m right.
Leaving the terrace, I walk back inside my apartment, pick up the house phone that connects directly to the hotel lines, and press in Tessa’s room number.
“Listen, Miles. For the millionth time, I’m sorry for putting you through—”
“Tessa, it’s Barclay,” I interrupt her.
“Oh thank God.” She sighs, and I imagine her collapsing on the bed. “I’m so sorry and need to thank you for everything you did tonight and also apologize for my brother’s overreaching ways. He can’t understand that I’m not fifteen.”
“First, I have a sister too, and might have been no different. And second, you can thank me by saying yes.”
“Yes?” she says, like it’s a question. At least she trusts me enough to utter the word.
“Good. Now that we have that cleared up, you’re going to attend the Warwick Awards with me. Dinner begins at seven. I’ll have a car outside the hotel at six thirty. Be prompt. You’ll be attending as my plus one, on the request of Don Black. To avoid the press and photos, we aren’t officially on a date.” I pause, taking a breath. I went into CEO mode with her so easily.
“Wow. Thanks. Of course I’ll go with you,” she replies. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear from you again after tonight.”
“You think cops with guns will keep me away from you? I want you, Tessa—like I’ve never wanted a woman before.”
“I feel the same about you. Well … but as wanting a guy, not a woman. I think I’ll quit while I’m behind.” She giggles, and the cheerful sound makes me grin like a silly teenager.
“I promised your brother I’d watch over you, so having you near me seems like the best plan. But tomorrow night, you’ll text your family. Let them know you’re back at the hotel after the dinner. You just don’t need to mention you’re with me.”
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Good night, beautiful.”
I pour one more scotch, but this time, I drink it with a smile on my face.
27
Tessa
The phone blares next to me on the nightstand. My hand hits around on the wood until it connects with the offensive machine disturbing my sleep. I don’t even open my eyes as I find the receiver and bring it to my ear.
“Hello,” I rasp. My throat feels parched—something I don’t experience often living in the humid south.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” It’s Barclay, and he’s way too chipper for this early in the morning. It’s like he swallowed a happy pill.
I peek at the clock next to the phone. It’s nine, not too early, but I tossed and turned last night after my brother humiliated me. I thought my father quizzing my dates in his full-blown sheriff’s uniform with a gun holstered to his belt was bad in high school. Boy, was I wrong. Having the CEO of one of the world’s top publishing companies grilled by your brother was to the moon and back worse.
“You must be a morning person,” I mumble, tossing the covers off me. I press the speaker option on the phone and pad over to the mini-bar, needing to hydrate from all the drinking last night. I pop open a bottle of water and take a gulp. It tastes like heaven.
“And you apparently aren’t.” I feel the smile behind his words, and I grin too.
“You’ve seen one sunrise, you’ve seen them all,” I singsong, then take another swig of water.
“Someday, I’ll show you one to change your mind.” His voice is gravelly with a hidden meaning. I sit down on the bed by the nightstand, hug my legs to my chest, and smile.
“All talk.” I laugh.
“Soon, you’ll wake up in my arms with the early morning sun shining on us.” His tone is husky and full of promise.
“I hear the weather’s supposed to be lovely tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he teases with a chuckle. “Today, I have press with Don. He seldom ventures to New York, so he’s booked with every news organization known to man. And thanks to you, Hammond is back in his good graces. I want to keep it that way.”
“I look forward to seeing that feisty old man tonight.”
“Since I’ll be tending to His Majesty today, I’ve made some plans for you.”
“Oh, you have?” I ask, hesitant.
“You might want to write this down,” he orders. I grab the notepad and pen from the desk. “Room service will bring you breakfast in thirty minutes. From noon to three, you’ll be pampered at Spa Bellerosé on Fifth Avenue. Facial, massage. Personal yoga session. Whatever you want. I’ll have a car at your service. Just introduce yourself to the doorman.”