Room Service

14

EM AND LIZA SAT in the lobby, on a corner couch, going over options. There weren’t many. It didn’t help that in spite of the shower in Jacob’s office she could still smell him on her.

His shampoo, his soap…And it was orgasmically good.

Certainly the sex in his office had been.

She’d never come like that in her life, and she knew enough to be sure that she never would with another man.

He was it.

He was “the one.”

After a lifetime of toads, she’d found her prince.

Not that he’d welcome her realization.

“Okay, speak.”

Em blinked at Liza. “What?”

“I keep losing you to whatever thoughts are making you alternately grin like an idiot, or look as if your dog just died.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re in love with him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. No one falls in love in just a few days.”

“Of course they do. You can fall in love in a day, an hour, a minute.”

“You’ve been with Eric for how long? And you can’t figure out if it’s love.”

Liza smiled. “Oh, it’s love. I’m pretty sure it always was. I’m going to tell him tonight. In fact, he wants me to wait for him in his room. I think he’s going to pay me back for tying him up. Have you seen the toys in those rooms?” Liza shivered with delight. “I hope we use the fur-lined gloves and a blank tape-”

Em put her hands over her ears. “Not listening-”

Liza pulled Em’s hands down. “I’ll never forget how you helped me through this,” she said fiercely. “I want you to be just as happy as I am.”

“What I need is not to be picturing you and Eric using one of those blank tapes.”

“Well, maybe we won’t, maybe we’ll just go through the Kama Sutra-”

Luckily Em’s cell phone rang, cutting off that thought. It was Nathan.

“You’ve been seen with the chef,” he said without preamble.

“What? How did you-”

“I know all. Now reel him in.”

Em grated her teeth. “Nathan, you know I don’t work that way.”

“Are you or are you not sleeping with him?”

Em’s heart clutched. “Whatever I’m doing on my off-hours has nothing to do with work.”

“Perfect, you are.”

“You’re not listening-”

“Just keep at it, Em. This is going to be great.” Click.

Em stared at her cell phone, dread and regret nearly overwhelming her.

Liza was watching her. “Forget him,” she said. “He’s an ass.”

It helped to remember that but didn’t make her feel any better to know that anyone on the outside looking in might assume the same thing as Nathan. That she’d slept with Jacob to convince him to take the job.

What if Jacob thought it?

No. No, he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. But still, the worry nagged at her. “I’m not going to do this the way Nathan would,” she said out loud.

“Of course you’re not,” Liza said loyally. “You’re not going to hurt Jacob. But, honey…is he going to hurt you?”

“No.” Her eyes burned. “Maybe.”

“Oh, Em-”

“Really. I’m okay.” She managed a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning. We fly home tomorrow.”

“Yes, but-”

“Go. I’m fine.” She waited until Liza had left to let her smile fall away. She wandered toward-where else?-Amuse Bouche. Nathan’s words still echoed in her ears but she could care less.

She just wanted to see Jacob. It was late, far past the dinner hour, but the place was still buzzing, filled with groups of people.

No one, she saw, was eating alone.

Well, she’d start a new trend. She was seated at a lovely table, and as she settled in didn’t catch a glimpse of the man she’d been with a dizzying amount of times in three short days.

Did that make him her lover?

No, she told herself. A lover implied some sort of relationship, loose as it might be. Lover implied emotions were involved.

Jacob Hill didn’t want any of that. Jacob Hill wanted his freedom, he wanted no ties, he wanted-

“Look at you.” In the flesh, he suddenly stood by her table in his chef’s gear, looking so official, so authoritative, so…outrageously sexy. “Sitting here in my restaurant,” he said, “looking like the best thing I’ve seen all night.”

She didn’t want to be moved, but damn it, she felt a helpless smile break through.

“Hungry?”

Uh-huh. For you. “A little.”

He flashed a grin that was so naughty she felt her nipples go hard. “Well, I do aim to please,” he said. “What can I get you? Something sweet? Something hot?”

“We are talking about your food, right?”

He waggled his brows. “Maybe.” Then without asking, he pulled out the chair next to her and sat.

“Don’t you have stuff to cook?” Maybe other women to drive insane with longing?

“We’re winding down. It’s late.” He touched her, running a finger down one cheek. “And you’re unhappy.”

Turning her head away, she busied herself with the menu. Why had she come? To torture herself? Because if so, she was doing a good job.

“Em.”

“You know what?” she said, shutting the menu again. “I’m tired. I should just order room service.” She reached for her purse but before she could stand, he snagged her wrist.

Not looking at him, she fiddled with the strap.

“Em.”

With a sigh she glanced at him, then was sorry. He was no longer smiling, instead his expression had filled with things that made her want to melt into a pool of longing. “Don’t,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t look at me like that, like you want to hold me, like I mean something to you, like what has happened between us means something to you, because we both know that none of that is true. When I go home tomorrow, you’ll go on as if nothing happened. And me, I’ll-” She bit off the words, refusing to expose herself to him again, emotionally or otherwise. “Please. Just let me go.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then slowly loosened her fingers. “I’m sorry.”

Well, so was she. Sorrier than he could ever know. Letting out a frustrated breath, she stood up. She met his gaze for one long, helpless moment, during which she would have sworn time stood still, would have sworn that he wanted to tell her he felt everything she did.

Because she wanted him as a chef in her show, yes, but she also wanted him as a man. And not just in her bed. She wanted him to be hers. She wanted him to understand that love could happen, that it could even happen in a blink of an eye.

Or on an elevator.

It could happen in a year, a month, a few days, it didn’t matter. She wanted him to know that when it was real, it was meant to be sought and kept.

Not tossed away.

But most of all she wanted him to understand that what they had, what they could have had, was as real as it gets.

In the end, she didn’t say any of that. She just walked away.

And he let her.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER Em was in her room, in the white, fluffy, luxurious robe after a long, scalding shower, waiting for room service to bring the French fries she’d ordered, contemplating how stupid men were.

Because Jacob should be up here. Sighing, she brushed through her newly washed hair. He should be in bed with her right now.

But he hadn’t turned out to be much of a mind reader, and she was a grown-up. If she’d wanted him so badly tonight, she should have saved her little goodbye drama until morning.

Someone knocked at the door.

Tightening her robe, she put her eye to the peephole, then her body went as still as her heart went wild, leaping inside her chest, banging against her ribs.

Jacob stood there, still in his chef’s uniform.

Em pulled back. What was he doing?

“Open up, Em.”

Open up. Hadn’t she done that? Hadn’t she opened up her heart and soul? What more could she give him?

“Em.”

She put her hand on the knob, drew a deep breath, then opened the door. “What are you-”

“You called for room service.” He gestured to a covered tray at his side, then pushed it past her and into the room.

“But…” She stared at him as he shut the door and lifted the plate covers.

“Crisp pan-seared salmon,” he said. “And from Pru I’ve brought a very nice 2001 Robert Stemmler pinot noir.”

She couldn’t help it, she laughed.

He raised his face in surprise. “What?”

“I ordered French fries.” The ultimate comfort food.

He made a soft sound of disapproval as he looked over the meticulously arranged tray, and she laughed again. “You are such a food snob.”

“I am not.”

Oh, yes, he was, and he had no idea. Nor did he have any idea how absolutely, stunningly adorable he was. She had a feeling he’d never been considered adorable before.

“Will there be anything else?” he asked.

You on a plate. “No,” she whispered, then remembered her little chat with herself. Be honest. Be open. “Yes.”

“No or yes?”

“Yes.”

“Name it.”

She licked her lips and thought about how to tell him that if she couldn’t have him in her life, she’d take him for the next few hours. “I want you.”

His gaze flicked over her wet hair, her undoubtedly shiny, makeup free face, and then lingered on her robe-covered body.

For a long moment he just looked at her as she grew uncomfortably warm under the terrycloth.

“Well, we do aim to please here at Hush,” he said finally, unbuttoning his chef’s coat and tossing it to a chair, which left him in his black trousers and a snug white T-shirt that invited the general public to Bite Me in block letters. She smiled.

He wrapped his fingers around the tie of her robe and tugged her to him. “What’s so funny?”

“I’d like to bite you.”

He arched a brow. “Watch out. I bite back.” His hands had easily unknotted her robe. Holding the lapels, he looked into her eyes. “What are you wearing beneath this thing?”

“Um-”

“A sexy thong?”

She shook her head.

“Flannel pj’s?”

She gave him a weak smile. Thank God she hadn’t put her flannels on. He’d have laughed his ass off. “No,” she managed.

“Hmm…”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I’m wearing nothing beneath.”

With a groan, he spread the robe open, slipped his hands inside and looked his fill. “You are so beautiful.” Sinking to his knees, he put his mouth to her hip, kissing her softly. Then her belly button.

And then lower.

Her hands fisted in his hair. Her head fell back. Then his mouth moved southward-and hit her equator. One lick and she was panting for air, her senses on overload. “Jacob.”

“Mmm,” he said, his mouth full, his tongue…God. His tongue.

“What about the real room service? They might come,” she gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head when he did something fantastic and wickedly wicked with his fingers.

“The only one coming is you.”

Then he lowered her to the floor, and made good on that promise.

JACOB LAY FLAT on the floor, stripped naked, with an equally naked Em nibbling her way over his body. It was torture, but the best torture he’d ever experienced.

“You’ve got such an amazing body,” she told him, exploring every inch. “Just looking at it makes me want to gobble you up.” She licked his nipple, then lifted her head. “I’ve never said such a thing to a man before.”

Oh, yeah. Torture.

“This is my favorite, right here.” And she sank her teeth into his inner thigh.

When he jerked, she lifted her head, eyes luminous, breasts swaying. “Do you want me to stop?”

“God, no.”

She resumed her activities, taking her mouth on a happy little tour, until she reached his erection and licked it like a lollipop.

He jerked again.

Once more she lifted her head, with an adorable concerned little frown puckering her brow. “Am I doing it wrong?”

Choking out a rough laugh, he slid his hands into her hair and guided her head back. “No.”

“Are you sure? Because I can-”

“If you stop again, you’re going to kill me.”

She let out a slow, sex-kitten smile that had him groaning and his toes curling. He’d created a monster. “Come up here, Em, and let me-”

“No, let me,” she murmured in the voice of a pure seductress. “Because this time, Jacob Hill, you’re the one coming.”

He’d wanted to be inside her when he climaxed, had planned for that with the unopened condom on the floor next to him, but she tore the control from his tightly held reins as no other woman had, with those fingers, with that incredibly soft, sweet mouth, both of which she used on him until his eyes crossed.

He was going to lose it. He was really going to lose it, right here, right now. “Wait,” he gasped.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not that-” He couldn’t think with the blood running out of his head and his entire body on high alert. “Em-Wait.”

But she didn’t, and there was something about her slightly fumbling hands and mouth, the endearing inexperience mixed with the sexual yearning that completely and totally undid him.

He exploded. And when he lay there, annihilated, still quivering, humbled to the core and just as shocked, she put her hand on his chest and leaned over him until her face wavered in his view.

“Jacob?”

“Still here. Barely.” He smiled.

Hers wobbled. “I love you,” she whispered, and destroyed him all over again.