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Briana
Finding a swimsuit wasn't hard. Since I didn't have time to go home, I picked one up from the hotel gift shop and put it on the company expense account. Earl had said whatever it took, and I was taking him at his word. The cashier hadn't even blinked, making me wonder if Earl had sent out an email or something. I didn't ask though. I was more worried about calming my galloping pulse. I changed in the staff bathroom, took several deep breaths, and then made my way out to the expansive garden oasis that always made the front page of our brochures.
The pool area was one of the most luxurious of all the Vegas casinos. Sure, the Bellagio featured marble statues and Italian accents, but that was nothing compared to Rock Bay. In my humble opinion, at least. The pool was enclosed in a large courtyard and could only be accessed from inside the casino or the hotel. As soon as you stepped outside, you were assaulted by an explosion of color, from the green palm leaves that swayed gently in the mid-morning breeze to the colorful flowers that seemed to bloom from every surface.
The pool itself was a wonder of decorative tile and cheery water features. The normal sounds of Las Vegas traffic and the excitement of the strip were nearly erased by the splashing of water, the sound of laughter, and the gentle music playing from the speakers by the bar.
I'd always wanted to relax by the pool, but the closest I'd ever gotten in the past was when I first started here as a waitress, and I'd been assigned to the pool for a couple months. Since then, it hadn't been included in my job description. But, then again, I didn't normally have to do whatever it took to secure future patronage.
As I'd hoped, I was a little bit early and used the time to stretch out on a pool lounger and try to acclimatize myself to the situation. I couldn't get Earl's implied suggestion out of my head. I kept reminding myself that my present situation was different than past circumstances. I was being a good hostess, and ultimately, everything I did was my choice. I just had to keep reminding myself of that.
It's my choice.
After a couple minutes had passed, I was feeling hot enough to take off the knitted cover-up I also purchased, so I hadn't had to walk through the hotel in just the simple suit. I'd just begun to pull it over my head when a shadow fell across me.
I looked up, squinting against the sun.
Holy shit.
Being the mother of a six-year-old, I could only equate seeing Dorian without a shirt for the first time as feeling like a cartoon mouse had hit me over the head with a comically oversized hammer. His chest was bare, save for a sprinkling of dark chest hair between his muscular pecs, and my fingers itched to touch him. I studied him greedily, trying to memorize every detail.
I didn't realize I was gawking until he laughed.
“Shit, sorry.” I grinned awkwardly, hoping I could play it off without coming across as too much of an idiot. “Much like the rest of your Rock Bay experience, that completely inappropriate stare was complimentary.”
Dorian's lips quirked into a smile, and he sat down on the lounger next to me. Enzo, who I hadn't even noticed until that moment, took the one on my right. Each man leaned toward me just enough for me to be aware of it, but not so much that either of them looked awkward.
Damn, had it just gotten a whole lot hotter?
“I hope we haven't kept you waiting long,” Dorian said, his gaze heavy.
“Oh, no. Not at all. I haven't even started getting my tan on yet.” I was pretty close to babbling, and I knew that if I didn't get a hold on it, I'd end up sounding like a complete moron.
“Can I put sunscreen on for you?” Enzo spoke from my left, his tone a little more forceful than it had been before.
I glanced over at him and wondered if his edge had anything to do with my reaction to seeing Dorian shirtless, and my lack of reaction to him. I studied him now, but it had none of the heat I felt when I looked at Dorian. Enzo was shorter than his brother. Less than half a foot taller than my own five-six, but with broad shoulders and a well-muscled chest. He sported a tattoo, which added to an edgy sort of energy to his playboy appeal.
But it did absolutely nothing for me. An aesthetic appreciation for his physical appearance, yes. Arousal? Desire? No.
“No, thanks,” I said politely. “I already put some on.”
Enzo had ramped up his flirtation since last night, and I wasn't sure why. Surely he wouldn't put that much trouble into trying to sleep with me? After all, he was gorgeous and rich. Any number of women would be climbing over themselves to take a ride on that Italian stallion.
Just not me, as it turned out.
No, it was Dorian who'd managed to pique my interest. The quintessential tall, dark, and handsome stranger with a brooding air that gave him that bad boy appeal.
But as of yet, I had no plans to sleep with either of them. If I could keep it to just flirting, then I wouldn't be putting myself in the position where I'd need to make a decision about what I was going to do.
That was good because I had no idea what I even wanted to do.
A waitress came over and took our drink orders. I waited to see if either of the men would check her out, but they both kept their attention on me. In an attempt to appear non-nonchalant, I leaned back on the lounger and closed my eyes against the blinding sunlight. I wished I'd thought to pick up some sunglasses.
“This is nice,” said Enzo. “Do you come out here often?”
“If I ever do, it's just a walk through. So, I guess I'm indebted to you boys for putting me on the job out here.”
Enzo chuckled, a dark, lustful sound. “We're eager to please.”
