I hesitated at the doorway, not stepping into the room. I had to have known this was where it was heading. From the moment he'd made the lunch date at the hotel. Of all the places in the city to eat, a hotel? Oh, Lexie. For a smart girl, you don't always use your brain.
He was already inside the room, hanging up his suit jacket on a wood hanger.
When he saw me, still standing at the door, he stretched out a hand. “Lexie?”
“Luthor, I … I don't know if I should.”
He came over and stood in front of me, just inside the door. The top two buttons of his shirt were unfastened, and I wanted to finish undressing him and run my hands all over his body. But I also didn't want to screw things up, and I knew I would. Just like I had with Jacob, and with every other guy I'd dated.
He looked down and then chuckled nervously. “Don't tell me you asked me out just to get business advice. Please.” He held his hands over his heart. “I don't know if I can take it. I didn't think you cared for me, and then you asked me to meet you, and … I guess it was wishful thinking on my part.” He shook his head. “I'm so stupid.”
I took two steps back, to the middle of the hallway. “Luthor, I don't want to get married and have a bunch of kids and live in the suburbs.”
He looked shocked. “Good god, me neither. Do you think that's what I want?”
“I also don't want to be a possession, a pawn in someone's game. I don't want to be bought. I won't be shipped around for your convenience.”
“Is this because I wasn't on the flight with you? Suzanne said it would be fine.”
I clasped my hands together, then released them and folded my arms. “I guess it's my fault. This whole thing with us has been so bizarre, right from the first time we met.”
“And then you left your panties under my pillow. It drove me crazy. You were in all my dreams. How did you know to do that?”
“My panties? What?” I thought back to the day I'd been hired to arrange the furniture in his bedroom. “That was your assistant, Grace. She actually bought my underwear from me.”
He shook his head. “That stupid bet. So ridiculous.”
“And that bet!” I said, nearly yelling. “What is that all about?”
The elevator doors opened down the hallway and a maid came out with her cart.
Luthor pressed his fingers to his forehead and gave me a crooked smile. “Come inside the room and I'll tell you everything.”
I re-crossed my arms. “No way. If I set foot in there, you'll have my legs in the air and there won't be any conversation.”
“Once I start, I don't stop. Is that so bad?”
“I'm beginning to think it is. I think I do that, with people. Well, not with people. With men. I avoid intimacy by making everything about sex.”
The housekeeper had stopped her cart in the middle of the hallway and was pretending to rearrange the items on it while listening, but I didn't care.
“Intimacy is scary,” he said.
I relaxed my stance a little. “I know, right?”
“I probably do the same thing. That was why I made the bet with Grace. I wanted to stop doing anything that had to do with sex, and see if that cleared my head.”
“And did it?”
He held his hands out. “I think you know how that worked out. I tried to do some yard work to take my mind off sex, but that had unexpected results.”
I took one step closer to the doorway. The air conditioning was rather chilly in the hall, and the suite did look warm and inviting.
“I think Grace was trying to sabotage you. She hired me and told me to stay away from you. Naturally, I wanted to do the exact opposite.”
He grinned. “Reverse psychology.”
I spat out, “Games.”
He shrugged. “No more games, then. Absolute honesty.”
“Fine.” I tapped my foot and gave him a skeptical look. “I gave Mr. Hubert a b**w j*b in a department store change room.”
He winced and swallowed hard. “Lucky guy.” He held his hand out to me. “I'd like us to be exclusive from now on. I don't care what you did in the past, just what you'll do in the future.”
I kept tapping my foot. “Did you book this lunch at a hotel because you were planning to sleep with me?”
“Not planning to. More like hoping to.” He gave me a big smile. “Is that such a bad thing?”
I glanced over at the cleaning woman, who was rapt.
Still holding my ground, I put my hands on my hips. “So, are we dating, or what?”
“We're dating. If you'll agree, I'd like you to be my girlfriend. Officially. I guess I'll lose my bet with Grace, but I can handle the penalty.”
The cleaning woman sighed.
“I think I might be a little screwed up, and maybe you are too, so ...” I looked into his eyes, and I saw something different.
He wasn't just the man who stood before me, Mr. Luthor Thorne. He was also the boy, the one who lost a brother and was left yearning for more emotional contact. On top of that, though, I saw other versions. He was the man he'd be a year from now, made stronger by our bond, more confident. He was the older version of himself, his temples graying, but still handsome, the same man, but more.
In his eyes, I also saw myself, as he saw me. A smart, confident young woman—a little screwed up, but willing to move beyond the past and be loved. Willing to love. Willing to say the words.
I practically ran into the room, throwing myself into him.
We kissed, our lips crushing into each other. The door closed behind me, and I already had Luthor's shirt unbuttoned.
Something caught my eye and I stopped, pulling back. “Seriously? A grand piano?”
Holding my hand, he walked me over to the baby grand in the corner of the room. I'd seen hotel suites like this in magazine and in movies, even in my fantasies, but not in person. My mouth gaped as I stared around at the opulence, from the crystal chandeliers high overhead to the fine furnishings. One night in this suite was likely more than a month's mortgage payment.
“Do you play?” he asked.
“I can noodle around with a few chords, but no, I don't play piano. Do you?”
He sat on the bench and ran his finger down the keys.
He looked up and caught my gaze, and began to play. “Why don't you pour us some of that champagne?”
I turned around and found a tray with champagne, fluted glasses, and strawberries dipped in chocolate. After just eating lunch, I wasn't hungry, but my mouth watered at the sight of them.
Luthor continued to play—something jazzy, but I couldn't have guessed the name of the song—and coaxed me into opening the champagne myself, even though I was terrified of sending the cork into a priceless chandelier.