Great!Same floor. Next, they’d have adjoining rooms! The doors shut and she clutched her bag close.
After what felt like an eternity, the lift reached their floor and Peyton practically sprinted from it, far too aware of Valentino following at a much more sedate pace. Shedid notwant to know the location of his room. What if they happened to be neighbours? Would knowing he was in the next room be conducive to sleep? Wondering if he slept naked? Wondering if he was thinking about her.
Like she was going to be thinking about him.
Refusing to check on his progress as she reached her door, Peyton rammed the key card in with trembling fingers. A red light appeared and she cursed beneath her breath. Slotting the card in and out several more times, Peyton twisted uselessly at the handle, wanting to scream at its continuing recalcitrance.
‘Can I help with that?’
His calm, almost amused, very definitelysmugvoice from behind her did not help the buzz of adrenaline coursing through her veins. But with useless fingers and a wonky card, he was, ironically, her quickest route to escape. Maybe he could go backto reception and ask for her card to be recoded? Or whatever it was they did.
That would certainly help her equilibrium recover.
Peyton turned, glaring at Valentino. Damn it – why did it have to behim?She held up her useless card. ‘I hate these things.’
His smile was slow and lazy, which sizzled along nerves already stretched to the maximum. Unhurriedly, he hung his jacket over the knob of the door opposite then reached for the key. ‘Let me have a go.’
Frowning, Peyton shook her head. ‘It’s not working.’
Nevertheless, she didn’t resist when he whisked it from her useless fingers and swaggered by. She’d done all her resisting at the wedding – there was no more left. Not with the heat of his body diffusing his scent into an intoxicating cloud as his arm lightly brushed against the taut tips of her breasts.
‘It just needs a gentle touch,’ he said, his low voice not much more than a serration of air as his fingers slowly inserted the card and slowly pulled it out again.
Would he be that gentle with her? That slow? That thorough?
Peyton blinked at the X-rated thought.What the hell?Thankfully, the light turned green, giving her something else to think about. Like him turning her doorknob and opening her door and murmuring,‘Entri.’
A glow from the bedside lamp she’d left on beckoned warm and welcoming, belying the emptiness of the room. She flicked her gaze to Valentino’s hands wrangling with a runaway temptation.
It just needs a gentle touch.
They’d be gentle, those hands of his. Hell, Peyton had no doubt they’d be whatever she wanted them to be.
‘Would you… like some company?’
Company. Had she been the type of woman who frequently did this sort of thing she’d have probably laughed at the euphemism. Because he sure as shit wasn’t inviting himself in for a cup of tea. But instead, Peyton wanted to cry. She hadn’t realised just how lonely the last few years had been until an attractive man had ogled her so blatantly, making no secret of his desire.
How easy would it be to just surrender? To forget the mangled heart she’d been trying to protect and succumb to the invitation?
It was just sex, right? People did this – hooked up – all the time.
Absurdly shaky, her gaze lifted to meet his, the naked heat and desire in his eyes cutting off her air as if he had cuffed her throat with his hand.
This wascrazy.
‘I don’t…’ What? Make out? Have sex?Bang?What could she say without sounding gauche or like a teenage girl who’d never been kissed? ‘Do this.’
It had taken her three weeks and a handful of dates to succumb to Arnie’s persistent attempts to get her into bed.
‘That’s okay.’ A smile touched the corners of his mouth. ‘I dothisa lot. You’re in safe hands.’
Glancing at his hands again – those sure, slow hands – Peyton supposed his confession to being a bit of a man-whore should turn her off as it had earlier in the evening, but, strangely, it didn’t. Not now. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that already from what Nat had told her and the evidence of her own eyes.
It wasn’t like she didn’t know this was a one-night thing. Sowhy notchoose an expert? And how nice would it be to cede control to someone who knew what the hell they were doing? To not have to be the one making all the decisions, calling all the shots.
If even for a little while.
But… why her? ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, her voice already stupidly husky in anticipation. ‘Any woman in that room tonight would have accompanied you here in a flash if you’d asked. Why the hell do you want me?’
