The Hotel 2 (The Billionaire Seduction) (3 page)

“God,
what I wouldn’t give to be the tasty filling in the middle of a
Rexford sandwich.”

“Ew!”
I throw my lipstick at where Callie’s laying on my bed, staring
at pictures of Dom and Xander in the gossip columns. I’m trying
to get ready for my date tonight, but I’m panicking because I
don’t know what Dominic has planned. Dinner? A club? An
all-night sex marathon over his desk? I want to be prepared, but it’s
hard picking an outfit when I don’t know if it’s meant to
be admired or ripped off.

“No, not the blue.”
Emily stops me as I reach for a short, tight number. “Go with
black, it’s always a classic.”

I pull on the dress and look in
the mirror, having flashbacks from when the girls helped me get ready
the first night I met Dom. Then, I felt way out of character getting
so dressed up, but tonight my reflection looks more like myself. I
wonder if I’ve changed since then, and whether that’s a
good thing. So much has happened in just a few short weeks. I let out
a whimper.

“What am I even doing, you
guys? He’s a Rexford. He has everything. Money. Power. And I’m…
I’m…”

“Juliet Evans, and you’re
brilliant, loyal, and ambitious.” Emily steps up behind me and
fastens a gorgeous necklace around my neck. It’s one of her own
designs: Swarovski crystals falling in a delicate waterfall over my
collarbone and cleavage.

She gives me a reassuring smile
in the mirror. “He’s the lucky one to be dating a girl
like you.”

“But what if I’m out
of my depth?” I ask.

“How are you going to learn
to swim if you don’t dive in the deep end?” she replies,
and I think I see a wistful look on her face. Emily’s always
played it safe, but I wonder if she secretly dreams of adventure and
excitement like this.

Before I can say anything, she
steps back and spins me around, giving me a final nod of approval.
“You’re ready.”

But am I really?

“Thanks, Em.” I hug
her just as the doorbell rings.

“Shit! The apartment’s
a mess!” Callie leaps up. “Hurry and get your shoes on,
Jules. You can’t let him walk in here!”

I scramble for my heels,
listening as Callie’s voice sweetens up just outside the
bedroom door. Dominic’s low tone comes after hers as they make
small talk. Shoes on, I give myself one last look in the mirror and
then head out into the living room.

Dominic is framed in the doorway,
wearing a perfectly-cut navy suit. Immediately, I give thanks Em
steered me to the classic black dress. Dom looks classy and totally
hot, like he just stepped out of a designer fashion spread.

Forget dinner. He’s the
main course and I want him naked, with whipped cream on his abs for
dessert.

“Hey.” The awe in my
voice is embarrassing, but I can’t help it.

“Hey.”

Callie clears her throat,
snapping me out of my daydream.

“Oh. Dominic, these are my
roommates, Callie and Emily.”

He shakes their hands in turn and
I swear I’ve never seen Emily blush so red. “It’s a
pleasure to meet you.” He glances around the place with an
amused grin, and I feel myself flushing too, now.

This is way too awkward, and I
don’t want him hanging out in our crappy apartment for a moment
longer than necessary. “Ready?” I ask, steering him out.
“Don’t wait up!” I call back over my shoulder, as
the door slams shut.

“Oh my God! He’s
freaking hot!” Callie’s voice echoes down the hallway.
Shit! I sneak a look at Dom, but he’s smiling. Amused as
always.

“She thinks I’m hot.”

“She’s female,”
I laugh.

He holds the exit door for me and
I purposely brush against him as I pass. His hand reclaims its place
on my back. “Flattering, but it’s your opinion I care
about.”

I grab his tie. His eyes widen in
surprise, but it feels great to take charge. He makes me bold. He
makes me crazy.

I stand on my tip-toes and pull
him down to me. “Are you fishing for compliments, Rexford?”

“Maybe.” There’s
a flash of lust in his eyes, and I wonder who’s really in
control, but I don’t care.

I kiss him hard, savoring every
moment. His hands encircle my waist, pulling my hips against his
solid torso. I moan against his mouth.

“I think you’re OK,”
I breathe as I pull back. “In case you’re not catching
on.”

“Damn it, Juliet. What are
you doing to me?” Dom clenches his jaw.

“I don’t know…”
I tease. “What am I doing?”

Dom takes my hand and lowers it
to the front of his pants. His cock stirs against my palm, and I feel
a rush of heat. God, I want him. I want to curl my fingers around him
and tease him until his eyes roll in the back of his head. I’ve
never been one for exhibitionism, but right now I don’t care
that we’re in my building’s hallway where anyone could
walk in.

I massage him through his pants,
but he grabs my hand and pulls it away.

“Save it for dessert.”
He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my fingers, moving to my
palm. I forget to breathe as he swirls his tongue there. “Let’s
go.”

We head downstairs and outside,
and I’m surprised to find a silver Jaguar parked there instead
of a limo. “What is this, car number three?” I ask, only
partly joking.

Dom chuckles, taking the joke. “I
call this one my weekend Jag.”

I laugh. “Gee, sucks to be
rich.”

The car is sleek and luxurious
inside, and I relax as he drives us through the evening traffic. When
I’m not looking at his gorgeous profile, I’m eyeing how
well his thighs fill out his pants. I can’t shake the memories
of him above me, his face tense with passion.

My body twists tighter,
anticipation rising.

“Here we are.” I snap
out of it as we pull up to Vine, the most exclusive restaurant on
this side of Chicago.

A valet opens my door and holds a
hand out. “Good evening, Mr. Rexford. Ma’am.”

Dom offers his arm to me and
leads me inside. “Have you been here before?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No.
Callie has been trying to get a reservation here for over a year,
just to say she has one.”

Inside, the place is packed.
There’s dark wallpaper and ornate chandeliers, with a wrought
iron balcony running around the top of the open main floor. I’m
in a state of giddy awe as we walk through the room. People stop
talking to look at us, and I hear whispers as we pass. I guess Dom is
like a celebrity in this town. The hostess shows us to the best table
in the house: right in the middle of the action. But Dom frowns, and
lowers his voice to speak quietly to the woman.

“Of course,” she says
quickly. “I just thought…I’m sorry.” She
quickly takes us to a new table, in the back of the room.

“Is something wrong?”
I ask Dom, confused.

“No. I just want us to have
some privacy.” He caresses my bare arm as he speaks.

I’m not going to argue with
that.

We’re seated in a more
secluded booth, but still, people nearby are glancing over. Dom
murmurs to the sommelier and waiter, before settling back and
focusing his gaze on me. My pulse quickens immediately now that we’re
finally alone. Sort of.

“So, this is what it’s
like, being you,” I say, looking around.

“What do you mean?”

“The celebrity treatment. I
bet the nine month waiting list for a reservation here doesn’t
apply to you.”

He looks amused. “The owner
was a friend of my father’s. This table is nothing more than a
favor from an old friend.”

“Look around. Everyone is
staring at us.”

He reaches for my hand. “Because
you’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Fine. I’ll take the
compliment. But I still shake my head at him to let him know he’s
not off the hook. I’m curious what it’s like to be him.

Dom sighs. “People are
impressed by the name, sure. But it’s just a name. Take that
away and I’m an ordinary man, subject to cheap wine and waiting
lists like everyone else.”

The alcove suddenly seems more
private. Maybe because I block out the chatter around us and focus on
him, excited that he might open up a little more about himself.

“Tell me about ordinary
Dominic.”

Dom pauses. “Well, ordinary
Dominic used to scrub toilets on the fourth floor after school for
less than minimum wage.”

“No way.” I can
picture him, tall and gangly in his expensive prep school uniform,
holding a plunger.

He shrugs. “I shadowed the
maintenance crew for an entire summer, learning how to fix everything
from wobbly door handles to electrical fixtures. Didn’t get
paid a dime for it, either.”

I think of his hands, too
calloused to be tapping at a keyboard all day. “You’re
still secretly fixing things, aren’t you?”

Dom looks surprised, then gives
me a grin. “Every chance I get. I like putting things to order.
Gives me a sense of harmony amid the chaos.”

“That’s great. I
never realized.”

Dom shrugs. “I’ve had
a lot of privilege, but that doesn’t mean I never had to work
for it. Unlike my brother,” he adds, his smile turning colder.

I want him to talk about this—I
know his brother’s return is weighing on him—but I don’t
get the chance before our food arrives.

“Wow,” I blink, as
the wait staff unload dish after dish of amazing-looking food. “Did
you order for us?”

“I wanted you to taste
everything I love.”

The waiter gestures, “Butternut
ravioli with a filling of white chocolate, butternut squash and egg
yolk, set in a fois gras sauce. Enjoy.”

Dominic places his napkin on his
lap and I do the same. The tension that crept into his face when he
mentioned Alexander fades away now. I’m glad.

The textures and flavors of the
meal are rich and delicate and I savor each bite. I glance up and
find him watching me – looking as if he wants to savor me the
way I’m eating this food. Sparks of desire shoot between my
legs, and I take a sip of wine to cool down.

“I’ve been thinking,”
I say in a rush. If I don’t get control over the growing ache
in my panties, I’m going to be dragging him out of here by his
tie. “About the gala.”

“Me, too.” He pauses.
“Perhaps we should cancel it.”

I set down my fork. “What?
Why?”

“It might be better to wait
until the drama dies down.”

“No,” I challenge.
“This is the perfect time to remind people of the Rexford’s
heritage and the things that make it so renowned.” The ideas
I’ve been mulling over spark with new life. “There’s
a reason Chicago has so many historic buildings preserved around the
city. People here are proud of their past and they love to show it
off.”

For a moment I think of my dad,
but I push the memories away before I can miss him too much and lose
track of where I’m going with this.

He looks interested. “Tell
me more.”

I pause as nerves roll through
me. Who am I to be suggesting anything? But he looks genuinely
interested, so I explain.

“The plans for the gala
right now are standard-issue party stuff: black tie, canapés,
champagne flutes making the rounds on silver trays…there’s
nothing exciting about it. But we could play up the history more,
bring out old art or photographs, maybe even make it a theme with
costumes. Showcase the impressive roster of celebrities and royalty
who’ve enjoyed the hotel. Bring back the old menus, and then,
let’s show them how the hotel plans to sprinkle modern luxury
with the—”

Dominic sees someone behind me.
His face changes, tensing. I turn.

It’s Blaine Prescott.

“Was I interrupting?”
he asks, looking smug. Or maybe that’s just how his face is, I
can’t tell. He looks super preppy in a polo shirt and khakis,
all he’s missing is an obnoxious Rolex and—no, wait,
there it is. I feel like telling him the 80’s called and want
their movie villain back.

“Not at all,” Dom
says smoothly. “My colleague and I were just discussing some
ideas for our big anniversary party.”

Blaine eyes me nastily, his gaze
raking over my body in a way that makes my skin crawl.

“I have to give you
credit, Dominic. Pulling in a fresh young…
talent
…to
try and dig you out of your hole. Well done.” He scratches his
belly and leers at my chest again.

Ugh.

“How are things?”
Blaine continues. “The promotion I ran hit you hard, didn’t
it, Rexford? Don’t answer that. I know it did. But, hey, it
won’t be your problem for much longer, will it?”

Dominic’s lips curve into a
humorless smile, the kind that radiates danger and the threat of
sudden violence. I expect Blaine’s lip to get busted at any
second, but to his credit, Dom remains seated and far more composed
than I feel. His ability to handle, well, everything, amazes me.

Dom puts his hand up, and a
server comes immediately over. “Yes, sir, Mr. Rexford?”

“See that Mr. Prescott
returns to his table with a glass of port, with my compliments.”

The server gulps, but Blaine can
take a hint. “See you around, Rexford.” He strolls away.

There’s silence.

“Are you OK?” I ask.
Dom’s face is set like stone.

He throws his napkin down.
“Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite. Let’s go.”

We drive to the Rexford in
silence. Anger is still rolling in waves off Dom, and I don’t
know what to say. I accompany him up to the penthouse, and he closes
the door behind us and tosses his keys down.

“I need a drink,” he
sighs, heading to the bar.

He loosens his tie, but I hope he
doesn’t take it off. In fact, I want him in that suit. The way
it fits his body, tight and commanding, is sinful.

Maybe I can help get Blaine off
his mind.

I cross the room after him and
move in close. “The last time we were here, I was naked on your
bed.”