Page 65 of My Fallen Saint

So instead, I go with, “Were you part of the rescue?”

His brow furrows and his head tilts slightly to the side as he asks, “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Ronan said you met in the military.” I shrug, feeling sheepish. “But since you obviously aren’t in uniform these days, I guess that was a stupid idea.”

He doesn’t answer. Just strides down the corridor, me walking quickly beside him. We head to the end of the hallway where two bellmen are taking our luggage into a room.

“Wait—aren’t we in separate rooms?”

“I moved us to the Davis suite.”

“Us?”

His eyes narrow, and I see just the hint of a smile on his lips as he says. “Don’t worry. We each have our own bedrooms.”

“Why?” I ask, not sure what answer I want to hear.

There is no expression whatsoever on his face when he says, very slowly, “Because I want you nearby.”

“I—oh.” I swallow, and I’m about to ask why again, but the bellmen return to the doorway.

Devlin tips and thanks them, then holds the door open as he gestures me inside.

I take one step, then stop dead, soaking it all in. I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, I saw the lobby, but I’d still been walking with that picture of the room I’d shared with Brandy. Roomy, but drab.

This room is the polar opposite of drab.

“Wow.” I stop in the doorway, breathing in the scent of roses that top an ornamental table in the entryway. “This place is incredible.” And it is. With overstuffed sofas and chairs, bookshelves filled with a variety to rival any library, a bar cart, and French doors that open onto an outdoor sitting area.

He nods toward a door to the left. “Your room,” he says. “Why don’t you go unpack? We have just enough time for the grand tour before we go meet the Beyond team for appetizers.”

“I thought it was dinner.”

“Change of plans. Turns out I’ve been double-booked.”

“No problem.” I want to meet the Beyond Team, but the idea of a full-on business meeting is a bit intimidating. This sounds just as useful from a story perspective. I’ll get the basics, along with contact info for follow-ups.

“I brought a black cocktail dress,” I tell him. “Is that appropriate? I can run down to one of the boutiques…” I’d seen several shops advertised in the lobby. Apparently there’s a retail section just off the casino.

His eyes skim lightly over my body, warming me from the inside. “I think a black dress sounds perfect.”

“Don’t,” I whisper. I press my lips together, then breathe in deep through my nose. Then I tilt my head up and face him. “Are you sleeping with Anna? Is that it?”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“You want me. Not forever—I get that. But you want me. I see it in your eyes. Hell, I felt it in your cock. On the plane. In the parking lot. I even saw it in your goddamn office when you were trying so damn hard to shut me down.”

I take a step toward him, forcing myself to go on. “And you know perfectly well what I want. A hard, fast, ruthless fuck, Mr. Saint. I want you to take me hard enough to burn you and Alex and my goddamn memories from my brain. Just in case you weren’t clear on that point.”

A muscle twitches in his cheek. “I think I got the message.”

“Did you? Because I don’t see you slamming me against the wall. I don’t feel your tongue in my mouth or your cock in my pussy. And after every invitation I’ve given you the only reason I can think is that something’s holding you back. Because God knows, you’re no gentleman. I learned that one the hard way.”

“Ellie—”

“Which is why I figure you’re fucking your assistant. So I’ll ask you one more time. Are you banging Anna Lindstrom?”

“No. Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I’m not.”