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She turned back to face him. “What did you want to talk about?”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t do this kind of thing either. Not really.” He gestured from himself to her. “I don’t remember the last time I drunkenly propositioned someone to make love.”
Her gut churned.
“And without wanting to cause you offense, you are different to the kinds of women I usually…date.” The slightest hesitation before that word made her think he meant something entirely different. Like ‘have sex with’.
She didn’t need to ask in what way she differed. She would put money on Leandro Valentino having dated a whole string of rich heiresses and model slash actresses, the kinds of guests Skye usually took care of. Women whose fingernails were always done and never missed a waxing appointment, who could afford all the maintenance and upkeep that was way out of Skye’s reach.
“Thanks?” She muttered, her tone making it clear she was being sarcastic.
But he didn’t apologise, and he didn’t change tack. “But I think we could have some fun together,” he said, frowning though, as if ‘fun’ was the last thing he wanted to think about. “Actually, I think that’s pretty much exactly what I need right now.” His features tightened. “But what about you, Skye? What do you need? What do you want?”
Her breath caught in her throat.
He was a fascinating mix of powerful command and courtesy. Far from being a toxic alpha male who was determined to have his way or else, he was laying it all out carefully, saying what he wanted, but also asking what she needed. Skye’s whole body seemed to relax; she hadn’t realized how badly she needed that.
But her job… “I think you’re very tempting,” she said with regret. “But I can’t lose my job.”
His brows knit together. “I can assure you, that won’t happen.”
“We’re forbidden from having relationships with guests. It’s in the contract.”
“I’m not a guest.”
“You are to me.”
Her whole body was torn between fire, flame and ice. She was so desperate to go back to doing what they had been doing earlier, to enjoying everything he had to offer, to relishing this small pocket of time when she could just be a desirable woman, and he could be the experience that showed her she was well and truly out of Jay’s control.
But her daughter, and her job, had to come first.
“I think we could have fun together too,” she continued wistfully. “I think that’s exactly what I need right now as well,” she added. “But I can’t risk it.” She passed the envelope to him, and this time he took it. “I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER FOUR
THE VERY NEXT NIGHT, when she was dispatched to the Presidential Suite, her heart was in her throat the whole ride there. She had told herself she’d avoid going to him if he asked for her—somehow, she’d just known he would ask—but then she’d found herself staring at the switchboard lights all night, willing him to call down for something. In the end, she’d missed the call, but came back to the request for a bottle of champagne, two glasses and a tray of chocolate dipped strawberries. Her heart fluttered in the hopes he had organized this for her.
Then in dread, because she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to say ‘no’ again.
In the end, she didn’t get the chance to say yes or no, because Leandro was no longer in the Presidential suite. A couple of boy band members were in situ, wearing matching hotel robes and slippers, too engrossed in each other to even notice Skye.
Back to regular programming, she thought, eyes straying to the carpet—now immaculate—before she placed the champagne and strawberries on the table and lit a small candle for good measure.
She let herself out discreetly, her stomach in knots as she hopped back into the elevator. It was several hours later before she screwed up the courage to ask Susanna, with faux nonchalance, as to where Leandro was.
“Checked out,” Susanna shrugged.
Checked out. And gone where? Back to Italy? Without saying goodbye?
Inwardly, she practically rolled her eyes. Why should he have said goodbye? Because what they’d shared had been so important? It had been nothing. He had been drunk. He’d propositioned her. She’d easily gone along with it. So he’d thought she was going to be an easy lay, and he’d propositioned her again. She supposed she should be glad, now, that she’d said no. This would have been so much worse if she’d actually fallen into bed with him last night.
Or would it have been?
It wasn’t like she wanted any great relationship. Heaven forbid. After Jay, Skye heartily hoped she’d be single forever. She valued nothing more than her independence, and her ability to parent without interference. After Jay, she wasn’t even sure she could be in a relationship. He’d been pretty easy to deal with in terms of custody. The one weekend per month he had requested was still a bitter pill to swallow, but he could easily have asked for more, and that would have destroyed Skye. He had that in his pocket, and she didn’t doubt he’d use it, if he thought she’d actually moved on with her life.
So, no.
No relationships. Not for many, many years, if ever, and Skye didn’t care.
