The second the words leave my mouth, my pulse kicks into overdrive. Before I can panic, he slides his fingers into my hair,his touch firm and sure. My body reacts instantly, heat rushing through me, nerves alive.
My fists clench his tee, anchoring myself to his hard body as my knees weaken, sway, then buckle when his mouth seizes mine, blistering and consuming. Pulling me closer, he clutches me tightly, his tongue hard and demanding, coaxing my lips apart. Willingly, I give him entry.
He kisses me until I’m breathless, demolishing all kisses before. Virgin lips. Never been kissed. Taken. His lips mark me. Consume me. Raging want and a mighty need build within me as a deep moan escapes my lips.
Sam slows, but his lips remain on mine and we stay like that, foreheads pressed together. His smile curves against my lips, reverent and warm.
“Olivia, we’re just getting started.” His next kiss seals the promise.
When he releases me, the space between us feels too wide, too cold. He steadies me with a hand on my shoulder, thumb stroking the skin at my neck, grounding me again.
I rise on tiptoe and brush a kiss against his cheek. It’s safe, restrained, and the opposite of what I want. If I go for his mouth again, we’ll never make it out of this room.
He presses a kiss to my forehead before stepping back. The air chills between us. I shiver, brushing it off as he grabs my suitcase and my hand.
As the hotel door inches closed behind us, I gasp. “My coffee.”
I dive for the narrowing crack in the door and Sam reacts quickly, wedging his foot in the opening.
“Always the essentials.” His teasing tone hastens my dart back into the room for the cup.
I shoot him a grateful smile, caffeine now my lifeline.
In the elevator, we stand close, fingers intertwined. The silence lives, breathes, with everything unsaid. My heart still beats too fast, and my lips still tingle from his kiss.
Needing a distraction from this man, I take my first sip of coffee, and I let out a low, involuntary moan of satisfaction. Sam’s head snaps toward me, heat flashing in his eyes as they fix on my mouth.
“Sorry.” My cheeks burn. “First coffee of the day. I need it.”
He chuckles. “Go easy on me, yeah? Between your sounds in the room and now…” His eyes darken, grin slow and dangerous. “Mon Dieu, you’re killing me.”
I glance up, tracing his lips with my gaze, and I’m almost certain we’re both thinking about the same thing—that kiss. The best one of my life.
On instinct, I grab his shoulders and rise on my toes, capturing his mouth again. This kiss is softer, slower, but it still steals my breath. And even as my pulse races, one thought sinks deep inside my bones.
We haven’t even begun, and I’m already lost.
11
OLIVIA
“Olivia, what do you think about changing around this area so the stools are over there and the chaise longue is here?” Mrs. Preston calls from across the open space, which will one day be the lounge of her hotel spa.
With a deep sigh, I search for inner strength and sanity. While winning this project is the biggest coup of my young career and has already brought in new clients and created a wave of buzz for Cassidy Designs, working with Eliza Preston is like designing in a hurricane. She has opinions about everything and changes her mind as often as the weather.
We finalized this layout last night—for the fifth time—and I’ve already ordered most of the materials. There’s no going back now.
“Well, Eliza, we could…” I stroll toward her with what I hope passes for calm confidence. “It would look fine. You’ll recall we talked yesterday about keeping the stools there.” I point to the original placement. “You mentioned it would open the space, add more seating, and separate the conversation area from those who want to relax.”
I hold my breath. She didn’t say that—I did—but if she thinks it was her idea, maybe we can skip the debate.
“Oh, yes, thank you for reminding me, dear.” She waves her diamond-clad fingers at me. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It makes perfect sense.” She grabs her purse off a chair. “Well, my dear, I’ll get out of your hair.”
When she flashes that satisfied smile and heads for the elevator, I nearly sag with relief. “Yes, of course. Talk soon.”
The moment the doors close, I exhale, smiling to myself. One more crisis averted. Then my phone rings. I glance down at the screen and my stomach flips.
Sam.
