Then she walked into me. I looked up in a daze as I felt her soft body hit mine. It was unexpected, and I was caught off guard.
“Sorry,” she muttered and gave me a wide smile. Her brown eyes looked embarrassed and they widened in awe as she gazed at me. I frowned at her. She was too guileless. Too innocent. Too beautiful. I didn’t speak.
“Sorry,” she whispered again. This time she looked unsure of herself. I stared at her pink lips and felt my stomach drop. I could imagine her soft lips on me, kissing me, bringing me to the brink of orgasm. Her face turned red and she stepped back. It was then I felt her hands on my arms. Intimate and soft in their touch.
“Oh, sorry.” She snatched her hands back and I wanted to grab them and hold them in mine. Instead, I muttered something, still frowning. She shouldn’t be here, in a room full of men. Men like me with one thought in their mind. Men who wanted to take her home and f**k her senseless. I walked away from her then, not liking the protective feeling I had felt when I’d made eye contact with her. She had an air of vitality and truth about her that I wasn’t accustomed to. I knew that she wasn’t a woman who would be happy with a weekend of sex and fun. I didn’t know if I’d be happy with a weekend of sex and fun. She would cling on to me and I would like it. I shuddered as I thought about that. It would be my worst nightmare. I was smart to walk away.
I tried to ignore the heat of my body as I made my rounds in the room. The girl I’d seen earlier had somehow ingrained herself in my mind and pants, and I was starting to feel frustrated. I watched Max flirting with her best friend and I sighed inwardly. Max was a predator and should know better. He wasn’t here to party. He was here for business. I was about to go and talk to him when a better idea struck me. I’d wait to see how it played out. I wasn’t to be disappointed. About thirty minutes later, I stood at the front of the museum and watched Max get into a cab with the two girls. I was about to go back into the museum when the girl looked at me. Her expression looked embarrassed and ashamed and she gave me a weak smile. I kept my expression hard as I stared at her. She definitely was not the girl to have a weekend fling with, but I wasn’t sure if I could convince my body of that fact.
Chapter 2
“Omg, Anna. I’m in a strange guy’s hotel room. You are in the bathroom puking. I’m sending you this so that when you are sober tomorrow you will remember why this was a bad idea.” I hit send quickly as I heard the door open.
“Are you okay?” Anna’s date Max walked towards me with a smooth stride.
I tried not to stare at his na**d chest. “I’m fine,” I squeaked out, not really believing I was in this situation. I’d never been the girl to have a one-night stand, and I never would have come to this guy’s hotel room if I hadn’t been concerned about Anna.
“You don’t look very comfortable.” He stopped in front of me and frowned as he looked me over.
He had a slight accent I couldn’t quite place. He sounded slightly English, which would make sense because we were in London, but he also sounded French. I wasn’t sure if I was going crazy, because how could I not tell if he was English or French?
“I’m fine.” I smiled up at him and took a deep breath.
I wasn’t exactly sure what he expected me to do. I mean, I was pretty sure Anna and I had come back to his room so that they could hang out and maybe make out. But now that Anna was in the bathroom puking, I wasn’t sure if he thought I was down to pick up where she left off. Part of me felt like I was in Pretty Woman, with the extravagant hotel room and hot guy. However, I wasn’t down with hooking up with him.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a prude, but I wasn’t about to hook up with a guy my best friend had come to hook up with. My stomach churned as I realized that he really didn’t care which of us he slept with tonight.
“You’re still dressed.” He sat down next to me, and I felt his warm thigh press against mine. I tried not to shiver as a feeling of displeasure coursed through me.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” I mumbled out. Damn it, Lola, I thought to myself. He’s going to think I’m the bumbling idiot that I am. “Why don’t we chat while we wait for Anna to come out of the bathroom?”
“Chat?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “What would you like to chat about?”
“Well, you know. Things.” I smiled at him, and he sat back with a puzzled look on his face. He reached a hand over and I felt his fingers tracing my collarbone before brushing my light brown hair back away from my face.
“You’re very beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I smiled weakly and he laughed.
“You are American, yes?” He smiled to himself as I nodded. “Let me guess. You are from a Midwestern state. Yes, somewhere in the country. Maybe a farm?”
“No,” I shook my head and laughed. “I’ve never even been to the Midwest. I’m from Florida.”
“No!” He shook his head in surprise. “You do not seem like you are from Florida.”
“I am.” It was my turn to frown. “What do you mean I don’t seem like I’m from Florida?”
“Nothing, mon cher.” He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. “Let us not talk of mundane things.”
“What do you want to do?” I asked stupidly and groaned inside, pulling my hand away quickly.
“What do you think?”
“I’m not really that sort of girl.” I swallowed as he leaned in towards me. His lips were mere inches from mine, and I froze in panic. I wanted to slap him and accuse him of being a dirty leech, but I was scared he would get mad and force me out of the room. There was no way I was going to leave without Anna.
BANG BANG BANG.
My eyes widened in shock at the loud banging, and I saw his eyes darken with anger before he jumped up and walked towards the door. I sat there, thanking God that we had been interrupted before he had made his first attempt to kiss me.
“Who is it?” he growled through the door.
“Maximillian, open up the door. It is Xavier.” The voice on the other side of the door sounded irritated and angry, and I sat up straight, my bones tingling.
The voice sounded vaguely familiar. I was hopeful that Max would let the other man into the room so that I could grab Anna and leave. I jumped up, about to walk to the bathroom, when Max looked back at me.
“Sorry.” Max shrugged as he looked at me, and he opened the door quickly. “I thought you were going to give your talk, sir.” He seemed to be apologizing to the man on the other side of the door, whom I couldn’t quite see.
“Don’t tell me you have another whore in here, Max.” The other guy cursed in another language. “I won’t accept this behavior. Not in my room.”
I stood still in shock as I realized that this Xavier guy thought I was the whore. I blushed, even though no one was looking, and grabbed my bag.
“I’m sorry, Xavier. I...” Max muttered, and I stuck my tongue out at his back. What a wimpy as**ole he was turning out to be. I couldn’t believe he had no backbone after just trying to bed me and my best friend.
“No more excuses. Go to your room. I’ll deal with you in the morning.”
“Please, Xavier.” Max was practically begging now. He gave me a quick look and then ran out of the room.
I stopped still as I saw the man in front of me. It was the guy from the museum. Surprise and then anger flittered through his eyes as he stared at me with derision. He was glowering at me with a murderous look in his dark green eyes. He stood tall, muscular, and dark. He had an olive complexion and dark, almost-black hair, and he oozed power and sex appeal.
“Who are you?” His voice was as arrogant as the look on his face, and I felt an immediate dislike for this man who stared at me so disdainfully. He didn’t even look like he recognized me. There was no way he couldn’t recognize me, right?
“I’m Lola.” I attempted a smile even though my face was burning up in shame. “From the museum ...”
“Typical,” he sneered.
“Typical what?” I glared at him.
“Typical name for a girl like you.”
“Girl like me?”
“Bimbo,” he spat out, his eyes looking over my body in a way that caused me to shiver with excitement and annoyance.
“Excuse me?”
“Bimbo. B-I-M-B-O” he spelled out. “You are a bimbo.”
“You’re a jackass. Capital A-S-S.” I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him, his eyes glittering.
“How dare you talk to me like that? Do you know who I am?”
“More like, do I care?” I pulled away from him. “Excuse me. I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going?”
“To my home.” I bit my lip as I realized I didn’t know the address by heart and that Anna was still in the bathroom.
“I don’t think so.” He closed the door and grabbed my hand.
“What are you doing?” I stared at him with wide eyes and shivered as I watched his chest rise and fall angrily.
“I will not let you leave this hotel room at this hour.” He shook his head in disgust. “In my country, it is not becoming for a woman to walk around the streets by herself at night.”
“We’re not in your country.” I pulled my hand away from him, wanting to ask what country he was from but not wanting to be nosy and give him the satisfaction of knowing that I was interested.
“It’s a pity.” He laughed sardonically. “And lucky for you. If you were in my country right now, I’d ...” He paused and leaned towards me. I could feel his breath on my lips as he stared deep into my eyes.
I froze as I stared back at him in anticipation. Was he about to kiss me? I swallowed hard. This was the moment I’d been waiting for all night but not in these circumstances. At the museum, he’d seemed sexy and naughty. Now he just seemed like an arrogant prick. I knew I should slap him or something, but instead I closed my eyes and waited to feel his lips crush down on mine.
“Open your eyes.” His voice sounded like a growl, and I opened them reluctantly. His face was mere inches from mine, and his eyes sparkled into mine. I could feel his breath on my lips, and I swallowed nervously. “If I were to kiss you, your eyes would remain open because I would want to watch the pleasure dilating your pupils as my tongue sought out the secret spots in your mouth.” His voice was low and seductive as he spoke, and I trembled at his words. I had completely forgotten Max and Anna at this point. My mind went back to the museum and what he’d whispered in my ear then. My body felt hot and achy as I waited to see what he was going to do.
“I don’t want you to kiss me.” I pulled away from him sharply and lied. “I don’t date cocky bastards.”
“But I don’t think you came here for a date, mon cher,” he laughed sardonically. “Unless you considered a rendezvous in a hotel room a date?”
“I’m leaving.” I tried to push past him again to walk to the bathroom, and he grabbed my wrists and pushed me against the wall.
“You are not going anywhere right now.” All humor and light was gone from his dark eyes, and his features looked dark and controlled. “You will stay here tonight, and in the morning, you may leave.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” I tried to push against his chest, but he was immobile. My strength did not compare to his, and I realized that there was nothing I could do to get away. “I’ll scream, you know. If you don’t let me leave, I’ll scream.”
“You won’t be the first bimbo who screams in the throes of passion.”
“But we’re not in the throes of passion.”
“And that disappoints you, does it not?” He cocked his head to the side and surveyed my heaving breasts. “I think right now you are disappointed that I don’t have you in my bed, caressing your—”
“Stop it.” I blushed at his words and looked away. There was no way I wanted him to know how very right he was. I was intensely attracted to him. My brain was fighting my body and just barely winning.
“Come now.” He stepped away from me. “Please spend the night and relax. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. I wish you no harm, beautiful Lola.”
I blushed as he complimented me. “I’m not beautiful.”
“Do not tell me you’re modest as well?”
“Well, you know. Some of us bimbos can be modest.” I winked at him and watched as his face transformed in laughter.
He stared at me for a moment and sighed as he stepped away from me. “You’re not English?”
“Disappointed?” I raised an eyebrow at him, not caring what he thought of me at this point. It was unlikely I’d ever see him again.
“No.” He shook his head. “English girls are polite. I like a girl with some bite in her.”
“All English girls aren’t polite. You shouldn’t make generalizations.”
He nodded his head. “You’re right, of course.”
“Where are you from?” I peered up at him curiously. I figured that he was Italian or something. His skin was too olive for him to be for him to not be from one of the Romance language countries.
“You will not know it.” He smiled and walked into the bedroom. “Would you like a drink?” He called back to me. He walked back to the door with a decanter of whiskey.
“No thanks.” I shook my head and then yawned.