CHAPTER FOUR
SIMONCLIMBEDOUTof the car and scanned the entrance to the Four Seasons, searching for possible complications. The small circular drive was fairly secluded, with plants and a stone wall blocking much of the street view. Satisfied, he opened Marianna’s door for her. Just like she’d hired him to do. Simon grimaced. He had sworn he wouldn’t get himself worked up about all their old shit, but he couldn’t ignore the irony that he’d come this far and yet he was working for a Ruiz—again. It was almost comical.
But he wouldn’t fuck her. Because she was a client, because she was Marianna. Though what just happened in the airport made it clear that it would take every last ounce of willpower to ignore the temptation.
Marianna stepped out of the car, and the hotel staff swarmed to help her. Not that he blamed them. Even after a flight across the Pacific, she was stunning. All that long wavy hair, mussed up like she’d just rolled out of bed—
Simon clenched his jaw and focused on all the other people around her as she headed for the reservation desk. He took stock of the lobby, the doorways, finding the blind spots as Marianna checked in.
“I have you in a one-bedroom suite, Ms. Ruiz,” said the receptionist as she looked at the computer screen.
Marianna looked up at Simon with a flicker of uncertainty.
“Cameron told me you wouldn’t sleep in your own room,” she whispered. “He said you’d, um, sleep on the pull-out couch.”
“That’s how it works,” he said, keeping his voice neutral, as if she were any other client. As if the idea of sleeping in the room next to her wasn’t going to keep him up all night with a raging hard-on.
Marianna narrowed her eyes, studying him for an extra beat before turning back to the receptionist.
“I have a key for Mr. Ruiz, as well.”
Marianna’s eyes widened. “He’s not—”
“Thank you,” Simon interrupted, resting his hand firmly on her arm. He glared at her, willing her silent.
Marianna pressed her lips together and said nothing. The receptionist handed her the keys, and they walked across the lobby.
She could only bite her tongue for so long. At least that was how she was at eighteen. He punched the elevator call button, and they waited in tense silence. He glanced down at Marianna’s expensive sandals, tapping in impatience. Then he let his gaze roam higher to her bare ankles, her smooth calves, golden from the Miami sun. He frowned and checked their surroundings.Focus on the job. Not her legs.
The doors opened, and he stepped in front of her, making sure the elevator was empty. When the doors closed, Marianna turned to him.
“Cameron didn’t explain the ‘Mr. Ruiz’ part to me,” she said, her eyes wide with false confusion. “You play husband for all your clients, or just me?”
He remembered this about her. She’d say things to make him react, begging him to take the bait. She’d work him up, and he was never as quick with words, so he found other ways to end the discussion. With his mouth. And his cock. Ways he couldn’t use now.
Simon narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you implying,Princesa? Because that sounds pretty low to me.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” she said softly.
“Good,” he snapped. “Because a fuck at the end of the day isn’t included in the Blackmore Inc. contract, no matter what clients pay.”
Damn, he was being an asshole. But stoic Marianna didn’t even flinch. She just quirked a brow, in challenge, as if to say,We’ll see about that.
He rubbed his eyes. He had to calm down and get his head on straight.
“I’m not trying to play your husband, Mari,” he grumbled. “But if you’d told that receptionist I’m someone else, she might’ve asked questions, which is exactly what we don’t want.” Simon blew out a heavy breath. “William knows how to dig. Which means the less information we give out, the better.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice softer.
The elevator stopped at the top floor, and Simon stepped out, scanning the empty hallway before heading for the room. He opened the door and let her in before making his way around the suite, checking behind curtains, in the closets, getting a feel of the place. Marianna’s eyes were on him the whole time, and she followed him into the bedroom, watching him work.
What was going through her head right now? Probably better he didn’t know.
He finished the sweep of the suite and returned to the living room area. She followed him, settling on the couch. Her skirt rode up as she crossed her legs, exposing more of her golden skin. Simon shoved his hands in his pockets and forced his gaze up.
“What are we doing here, Marianna?”
She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but seemed to change her mind. He waited.
