“You know what else is cute?” Dustin said.
“No. What?”
“Your face.”
My mouth fell agape, and a chill went down my spine.
He smirked, and I couldn’t believe I was continuing to walk right into his third-grade traps.
I felt my buzz coming back, and I wondered if it washimmaking me drunk, not the drinks.
He must have taken my open, parted lips for a target because the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine and I was moaning into his mouth as we kissed. My head filled with reasons we shouldn’t be doing this.
“Uh, guys?” Pheobe asked.
It was five o’clock, and we were in plain view of other people from the conference.
Doctors were not the kind of people who just engaged in PDA recklessly. We had an image to upkeep.
But then again, we were in Vegas, and I was being uprooted in a week. What did I care?YOLO.
I heard Chip clear this throat a minute later and was saddened when I looked up to find our server delivering our food. The filet mignon I hard ordered at Dustin’s behest smelled delicious.
I wasn’t disappointed as I ate it.
Toward the end of the meal, Dustin slipped me a note scribbled on a napkin and said he had to get back to his room.
I smiled as I read:
There’s something special for dessert on the menu tonight.
Meet me up in my room. Use this key. Floor 82
D
CHAPTER 6
CATARINA
My pulse raced furiouslyas I wondered why he’d done this on the down low.
Did he not want Chip to know he was with me?
Did he thinkIwould be ashamed of going up tohisroom?
I excused myself and left Chip and Phoebe to their own devices, wondering what would happen with them.
On the elevator up to floor eighty-two, my heart fluttered and I made a mental note not to chug down the rest of my drink when I was on the way to a rendezvous with the sexiest man I’d ever met.
I took a deep breath, clutching the napkin in my hand, and reminded myself of my weekend’syou only live oncemotto. If that meant going to the private floor of a professional hockey player with bad handwriting and amazing forearms, so be it.
The doors to the elevator opened and a hallway assistant bowed to me.
“Miss Vidal, right this way, please. Mr. LeBlanc is expecting you.”
Well now, I wasn’t used to this type of VIP treatment. But I was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
The hallway assistant knocked on the door three times, then pulled away. “Enjoy,” he said like he had just dropped off a fine dinner plate.
