Page 48

His hand settles lightly against my lower back as he guides me through the crowd. The touch lasts only until we leave the ballroom, but I can still feel it after the doors close behind us.

The music and conversation fade to a dull murmur. We pass the bathrooms and elevators, but Eric keeps walking. The crowd thins until we’re alone in a wide hallway lined with dark wood and black-and-white photos of Alton Hills.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can talk.”

“You said you needed a minute. You didn’t mention a journey.”

“It’s another twenty feet, Rachel.”

He stops beside a pair of dark wooden doors and takes a key card from his pocket. The lock flashes green, and he holds one door open for me.

The conference room beyond is large enough to seat twenty. A long walnut table fills the center, surrounded by leather chairs. Heavy curtains cover the windows, and a few brass wall lights cast a soft glow across the room.

I stay near the entrance as the door closes behind us, shutting out the voices and music from the ballroom.

“Are we allowed in here?”

Eric gives me a long look. “I own the hotel.”

Right.

He slips the key card into his pocket. His gaze travels slowly over my dress before returning to my face, and then he steps toward me.

16

RACHEL

Istay where I am as Eric comes toward me. He doesn’t stop until my back meets the door and his hand rests beside my head.

“You’ve moved on quickly,” he says.

I look up at him. His jaw is tight, though the rest of his face remains calm. “Moved on?”

“You kissed me on Monday.”

“I remember.”

“You wanted me.”

“I did. Past tense.”

His mouth tightens, and a small thrill runs through me. When Eric didn’t call after the green room, I felt humiliated for believing his interest in me had ever been separate from the service lane. I told myself I’d mistaken a business tactic for something real.

But Voss no longer needs the lane, and Eric has no business reason to care how close another man sits to me. This is about me, and I shouldn’t enjoy that as much as I do.

I lift my chin. “Is that all you brought me in here to say?”

“No.” His gaze stays on mine. “I don’t like other men thinking they have a chance with you.”

“You’re jealous?”

“Very.” He doesn’t hesitate.

“For a jealous man, you’ve been very quiet all week.”

“I was in Chicago.”