She’d felt that touch on her thighs, her hips, between her legs, and had spent most nights since reliving the moment.
Let it go.
He asked Cecilia to bring him up to speed but his gaze remained trained on Dana. Those eyes. She hadn’t been able to ascertain their exact color the night at Joe’s because the lights were dim, but she recognized the shade now.
They were the color of green amber.
Her mom had a green amber pendant years ago. When Dana was little, she used to hold it and stare into the stone, imagining fairy worlds in its flecks of brown and gold.
Alex Markov’s eyes filled her with the same sense of wonder.
She’d thought him enigmatic a few months ago. Now, he was surrounded by more mystery than Agatha Christie.
When the clerk finished explaining, he spoke to her in a lowered voice. “I understand we have some fifth-floor suites set aside.”
Cecilia angled away from Dana and spoke in the same hushed tone. “The penthouse level? But Mr. Markov, those suites are for VIPs. Mr. Doyle always liked having a few suites available for impromptu visits. High rollers sometimes drop in unannounced.”
Markov’s jaw clenched. “Mr. Doyle no longer owns this hotel and I don’t see a reason to hold rooms for guests who may or may not grace us with their presence.” He turned to Dana, his face a mask of emotionless professionalism. “Ms. Hamill, I’d like to apologize for the mix-up. We have a few new systems and everyone is getting used to them.”
“These things happen.”
“Yes.” He looked her up and down. “They do.”
“I work in the industry too, but as I mentioned to Cecilia here, my sister is counting on staying at Vice. She’s had a rough time lately and I don’t want to disappoint her.”
“Of course not.” He commandeered the clerk’s keyboard. “Bear with me. I’m new at this.”
Another flash from those green eyes awakened something inside her, feelings she’d suppressed since leaving Alex behind in that bar. She hadn’t meant to run away that night and certainly wouldn’t have run from him. But after asking Alex to give her some privacy, the impact of her actions had weighed on her.
What she’d done in that bathroom had been so uncharacteristic of her. Hell, she’d practically begged him to take her. She’d been consumed with guilt the moment the deed was done, even though she owed Tommy no allegiance whatsoever. She could sleep with whoever the hell she wanted. Still, shaking with unfamiliar emotion, Dana had bailed.
Ever since, she had been numb. She knew it was just the diagnosis wearing on her. She’d get over it eventually, no matter how it clawed at her.
Or so she told herself every morning upon wakening.
It was still hard enough facing people when she felt as if they could somehow see into her, and understand she was different. She had barely made eye contact with anyone since the day at the hospital, worried they’d see something horrible reflected in her eyes.
But that’s not what she’d seen in Alex Markov’s eyes. At Joe’s, his eyes had glittered and narrowed in appreciation, flitting back to her again and again.
Not anymore.
He probably couldn’t bear to look at her now.
He made a few tentative clicks on the keyboard. “I understand you were supposed to have two standard double rooms.”
“Yes.”
“Four ladies in your party?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve taken the liberty of upgrading you, booking you into four VIP suites. No additional charge.”
VIP suites? “That’s very generous of you but we don’t need big suites,” said Dana. “Any standard room will do. We’re happy to bunk together. I only want what I reserved. I don’t want to make insane demands.”
“And you haven’t,” he replied. “I’m offering them, as a ‘thank you’ for sending so many convention delegates our way.”
Or a bribe to keep her mouth shut?
