Page 37 of Manhattan Kiss

The two sisters exchange a look. “It is. Most of the time. And our brother keeps out of it, so that’s good too. He and his wife have a baby, so he’s all about that or his other businesses.”

“Cute,” I say. I feel like I’m surrounded by talk of babies and giving birth. Maybe I’m just hyperaware at the moment.

“But he’s going to invest if we get another hotel,” Poppy says. “We’re looking in Boston. He used to have a place there, but it was too small. We’re on the lookout again.”

“We’re not talking about work,” Avril reminds Poppy.

“We’re talking about Worth.”

Avril shrugs. “We’re in the friend zone.”

“In a good way,” I say, grinning. These two funny women are starting to feel like friends. They’re the first new friends I’ve had in a while and the only friends I’ve ever made without Darcy right by my side. If you don’t count Mr. Black.

FOURTEEN

Deacon

It’s Tuesday night, so if I don’t see Aurora again tonight, it’s going to be Sunday before I get the chance again. I didn’t see her at all yesterday. I’ve had room service delivered, but Aurora was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t on reception, or at the bar earlier. I punch the button on the phone for housekeeping and order some additional towels.

Maybe she’ll deliver them.

I’m clutching at straws, but I want to see her. I want to ask her to dinner again.

I don’t know why I didn’t get her number the night at the restaurant. I guess with her working at the hotel, I thought I’d have plenty of opportunities. Also, what happened that night had been unexpected. If I’d asked for her number and then afterwards decided I didn’t want to use it, it could have made things awkward.

Now I know I would have used it. I’m pretty sure I would have blown her phone the fuck up, I’d have called her so often.

She haunts every dream I have and she dominates every second thought. It’s like she’s put some kind of spell on me. I don’t know what happened to me during that dinner, but something did. Something shifted inside me. Maybe it was the way she got me to talk about things I try to bury. It feels like she really wants to know me, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that from anyone. Or at least I haven’t let myself.

She looks at me like she’s searching for something deeper than just my body and my money. She exudes a mixture of naivety and determination that is intoxicating.

I pace my hotel room, waiting for the knock on the door. I feel like a caged animal. If this doesn’t work, I’m just going to call reception and ask her to come up to my room. Although she might hate me if I do that. She’s already said she doesn’t want people to know that anything’s happened between us.

There’s a knock at the door and I stalk over and swing the door open.

My body relaxes the instant I see her.

“Finally,” I say on a sigh.

She beams at me. “Your additional towels, Mr. Black.”

My dick twitches at the way she says my name. Jesus, what’s this woman doing to me?

“Put them in my bathroom, please,” I say on a growl.

Her eyes dart over my shoulder, and I stand aside to let her in. At the very least, I have to get her number.

But I want so much more.

I follow her into the bathroom and watch as she arranges the towels on the rail beneath the two sinks. I’m getting the best view of her perfect arse. All I want to do is pull her hips back and press her against me.

She straightens, looks in the mirror directly at me, standing behind her, close enough to reach out and wrap my hand around her waist. We stare at each other for a few seconds.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Black?”

Fuck. The things I could suggest.

“Turn around,” I say. The pulse in my neck is throbbing, and I fist my hands to stop myself for reaching for her.