While she speaks, a lightbulb switches on in my mind.
If I play my cards right, this could be my opportunity to gain greater access to the hotel and more of Maeve’s trust in one fell swoop.
When Maeve trails off, I wave my hand like a schoolboy. “Let me help.”
Her eyebrows hop up her forehead. “What?”
“Let me help you with the wedding.” I give her my most charming smile, the one that I know left her weak in the knees during our first dinner. “I’m confident I can solve your problem. And the best part is that understanding your event-hosting process might assist me when I create my final report for Zenith.”
Her brows climb toward her hairline. “Are you serious?”
“As the grave.”
She sinks her teeth into her lower lip as she studies me. “Then, yes. I accept. Whatever you can do to help ensure thiswedding goes off without a hitch, please… I welcome your assistance.”
The tension in her shoulders eases.
She must be incredibly stressed, because none of my actions to date demonstrate competency as a wedding planner.
Guess she’s just that desperate.
I’m thankful for this sweatless victory, but I also hate that I’m preying on Maeve’s troubles to manipulate her.
She piles enough on her plate already.
Wait. What am I doing? Since when am I Mister Empathy?
What’s wrong with me?
“Come this way.” Maeve’s fingers alight on my forearm. “We can hammer out the details in my office?—”
She stops short, redness claiming her cheeks as she backs away from me. Undoubtedly remembering that text I sent her this morning.
We’re both teetering on the edge.
Without another word, she marches up the hall without waiting for me to follow.
This is going to be interesting.
Meeting with Maeve in her office proves…challenging.
The last time we were alone together, she tried to seduce me. And after that…I held her all night. Breathing in her scent, feeling her heat against my chest, my legs, my cock…
It’s a wonder I got any sleep at all. It’s a wonder I letherget any sleep at all.
We got through last night, and we make it through the meeting too.
At least, we survive.
And by “survive,” I mean we manage to discuss the wedding and what she needs help with without me interrupting to bend her over her desk and ram my cock into her.
But, damn, the image taunts my mind the entire time.
For the better part of an hour, we talk about coordinating caterers and photographers and ordering enough flowers, though all I really want to do is stretch that insane body of hers around my shaft.
Despite the sexual tension threatening to incinerate us both, we succeed in brainstorming a work plan for our impromptu collaboration.
I start by shadowing her, meaning I follow her around the hotel while she bounces from event-related problem to event-related problem while simultaneously fending off the everyday stressors of hotel management.
