‘Don’t worry, boys,’ Cole purrs the word boys patronisingly like he’s talking to mere children. ‘I’ll take care of her. I assure you, nothing will happen to her under my watch.’ He grins. ‘Nothing bad, anyway.’
Tension rolls through the air for a long few seconds, then Tate turns towards the lift, and the other two fall into step behind him.
‘We’re going this way.’ Cole places a hand on the base of my spine, guiding me in the other direction. Shivers soar over my skin at the contact.
The private corridor past his office spills onto a curved mezzanine overlooking the casino floor. It’s still a construction site. There’s scaffolding and dust sheets, but I can already see the bones of brilliance.
Cole watches my reaction like it’s his favourite sport.
‘I’m thinking,’ he murmurs beside me, his voice a low vibration against my skin, ‘lit onyx bars. Ivory leather booths. Glass walkways over the gaming floor. A champagne lounge here—’ he points to an elevated section ‘—and a high-roller suite overlooking the river.’
Damn him.
His vision is good.
Really good.
‘Dark, moody tones,’ I say, stepping closer to the railing. ‘Black marble. Antique brass. Statement lighting in sculptural forms. Booths structured for privacy, but without feeling claustrophobic.’
His eyes flicker, like I’ve just undressed him with my mouth.
‘That’s exactly what I want,’ he says quietly. ‘I knew you were the right woman for the job when I stepped into Varmont Castle.’
Colour flushes my cheeks at the compliment. ‘I aim to please.’
‘Oh, you are very pleasing.’ His gaze lingers on my lips again. ‘Shockingly so.’
‘And the rest of the hotel?’ I push, needing to distract myself from the heat pulsing to my lady parts and the pull in my stomach every time he looks at me like he’s contemplating devouring me—again.
Finally, he tears his eye away, then leads me through another door into another lift. Sexual energy swirls in the air between us, heat radiating like a furnace. His eyes catch mine, but he doesn’t make a move to touch me again. Probably a blessing, because with these pregnancy hormones racing through my body, I’d be powerless to stop him.
The door slides quietly open to the main hotel lobby, and I drag my eyes from his to soak it in. It’s vast—two-storey ceilings, humongous twin pillars either side of the glass front doors.
‘I want this to be bright, ivory, clean, and powerful. A space that feels expensive without screaming for attention. I don’t want glitter. I don’t want gaudy. I want…’ His eyes slide to me. ‘Sophisticated seduction.’
My lips part before my brain catches up. ‘I can do that.’
‘Don’t I know it.’
Heat flickers through me again. Hot flames lick every inch of my skin. They’re impossible to ignore.
We walk the rest of the floor together, and instead of clashing, we… align. On colour palettes. On materials. On ambience. On every damn detail. By the time we return to the front entrance, I’m breathless—and not just from the walk.
He turns to me with that slow American smirk that should be illegal on Irish soil.
‘So,’ he murmurs, eyes dragging deliberately from my mouth to my bump and back again, ‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow night?’
My heart hammers so hard in my ribcage I’m surprised it doesn’t echo off the double height ceiling.
I swallow. ‘For dinner?’
‘For the rest of our lives if you’re not careful.’ His lips lift in a wolfish smirk. ‘But yes. We’ll start with dinner.’
Chapter Thirty-One
COLE
Watching Irish—Zara—walk out of my hotel feels so fucking wrong, but I can’t terrify her with my intensity on the first day I found her—or rather, she found me. I ride the lift up to my office. Belle looks at me curiously as I step out.
