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If David—or whoever this person was—became a problem, I would deal with him.
Because deep down, I was a fighter too.
Until then, there was no reason to even talk about him.
I traced down the side of her face, stopping when I reached the corner of her mouth, which hadn’t grinned in far too fucking long. “How about I bore you with the history of Brady Spade?” I tugged at the section where her lips split. “Would that earn me a smile?”
She sighed. “Honestly, I would love nothing more.”
I leaned forward to kiss her, inhaling the piña colada scent off her skin, slowly, carefully holding our mouths together. I’d promised her that my cock was staying in my pants. But any more of this, even the swipe of her tongue against mine, would jeopardize that.
Guaranteed.
I just couldn’t get enough.
Once we were separated, I adjusted my back against the headboard. “The quick rundown is this: I’m LA born and bred. I went to college at UNLV. I wasn’t there for the academics. I was there to party my ass off on the Strip. My dad and uncle started Spade Hotels—now called Cole and Spade Hotels, which is another story. My brothers—Cooper and Macon, whom you met on the Daltons’ plane—and I worked for them through high school, and as soon as we graduated college, we joined the company full-time. That’s where I’ve been ever since. Working, traveling, having a hell of a lot of fun.”
“We need to back up for a second. Vegas? For four years? Whoa. The most I’ve ever done was a two-night stopover, and it kicked my ass. I wasn’t sure I was even going to make my flight.”
I laughed. “But it was a good time, wasn’t it?”
While she filled her lungs, her lips began to tug wide. “A memorable time, I’ll say that.”
“My father’s requirement was a degree. He didn’t care where we went or what we studied. Now, my brothers took things a little more seriously. Double majors, minors. Academic honors.” I placed my forearm under my head, using it as a pillow. “That’s not me. I fulfilled what was asked of me, but I was really there to party. I wanted to get as wild as possible before my life became all business—maybe not all, but most.”
“I’m going to ask you the same question you asked me. Do you love your job?”
I let out a mouthful of air. “The day-to-day? No. It’s all bullshit busy work. Meetings, decisions, corporate policies—none of that interests me. I like being hands-on. Designing a new property or renovating an existing structure. I like overseeing the process from the ground up and watching the guests’ reactions when they walk into one of my creations and they take it all in.”
She rolled onto her side, folding the pillow to prop her up a little. “Sounds like you travel a lot for work?”
My hand went to her neck, cupping that sweet spot between her throat and collarbone. “Yes, and no. Once a property is up and running, my job is done. But to get that hotel where it needs to be requires an immense amount of travel. Once we close on the property here in Edinburgh, I’ll be going back and forth once a week.”
Her eyes widened. “Weekly?”
“I don’t plan on moving here. My brothers typically do, they prefer staying in the location until the project is finished. In the past, I’ve done it both ways.” I stroked her cheek while I studied her eyes. “For now, the weekly trips just feel right.”
She glanced at the ceiling, the window, across the room toward the door. “This is the hotel you’re buying, isn’t it?” She glanced at me again. “I overheard you talking to Dominick on the flight to Tampa.”
“It’s going to look nothing like this once I’m done with it.”
Her lips were pulling even wider. “Everything you do is fascinating.”
“You haven’t seen me in action. If you think I’m an asshole now, work mode is even worse.”
She giggled. “I haven’t seen you in action?” Her cheeks stayed red when she added, “By the way … I Googled you.”
“And?”
“Your accolades are quite impressive, Mr. Spade. You have the largest five-star hospitality brand in the world—six of those properties being your designs, Scotland will be the seventh. Out of those six existing structures, two of them won architectural awards.” With each point, she held out a finger. “You personally worked with an IT company to create proprietary software that streamlined the check-in process for your guests and a backend system for your whole network of hotels. And the rumor is, you’re already setting your sights on Bangkok as your next location, which you think will be one of your most successful hotels.”
“Bangkok,” I sighed. “That was mentioned on fucking Google?”
Her hand shot out to my chest. “It wasn’t online. I heard you talk about it during the flight to Tampa. And don’t worry, I signed a fifteen-page NDA before the Daltons would let me step foot on their plane. I would never speak a word about anything any of you discuss. I’m a vault.”
The anger lowered to a dull irritation. “I was about to have someone’s goddamn head.” I took a breath. “But, yes, that’s where I’d like to build next. Jenner is starting to look at properties for me.”
“And you’d live there, I assume?”
