He had to get back to the kitchen. They both knew it, and yet Jacob wanted to stall longer, keep her talking. Or at least smiling at him like that.
But she pushed her now-empty plate away. “That was heavenly. Thank you so much.”
When she stood, he did as well, taking her hand and bringing it up to his mouth. “Have a great night,” he murmured, his lips against her skin.
She looked up into his eyes, hers a little dazed as she shook her head. “You’re probably the only man I know who could pull off that ridiculously romantic gesture.”
Lightly he scraped his teeth against her knuckles, taking the “romantic gesture” straight into raw sexual mode. He noted her sharp inhale. “Enjoy your stay,” he said softly, and let her pull her hand free.
Still staring at him, she brought her hand up to her cheek, the movement oddly tender and vulnerable. But instead of feeling as if he had the upper hand as she turned and walked off into the hotel, he felt as if he needed to sit down.
Or touch her again.
EM TOOK THE ELEVATOR without incident. Meaning no gorgeous stranger stepped on, pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless.
She told herself the vague disappointment in her gut was about the cooking program. He’d said the thought of being on his own show sounded like a nightmare.
And Eric was sitting on the floor right outside Liza’s room, head back against the door, looking miserable.
“Eric?” She crouched before him and took his hand in hers. “Honey, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I tucked her in. She’s out like a light. Did you know she snores?”
“Like a buzz saw. But what are you still doing here?”
“I…” Closing his eyes, he lightly thunked his head back against the door. “Nothing. Never mind.” He rose to his feet. “’Night.”
She caught his arm before he got away. “Eric.”
He shoved his fingers through his hair, tousling the golden ends. “I brought her up here intending to…” Now he scrubbed a hand over his face. “I wanted to…”
“I know.” She laid a hand on his arm. “But she was drunk. You did the right thing by walking away, no matter how much in love with her you still are.”
Eric’s gaze flew to hers. “I’m not…”
Em just looked at him.
“I’m really not…”
Em smiled gently and stroked her hand up his tense arm.
“Are you kidding? Our Liza? She’s pretty much only thinking about her own feelings at the moment.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “She couldn’t even get out of her clothes-she insisted I unzip her dress. Then the little fool tripped over it and I had to-” He groaned, walked down the hallway and stalked back. “I had to strip her down and shove her into that bed, and the whole time she was teasing me, asking me if I wanted to kiss her, touch her-”
“She was drunk,” she reminded him softly. “She didn’t mean to be a tease.”
“Yes, she did.”
“Okay, well, she didn’t mean to be cruel about it.”
“Which is the only reason I didn’t-” He scrunched up his face. “
“Have you thought about telling her how you feel?”
“Oh, yeah.” He laughed harshly. “That’d go over well. I’m the one who cried uncle and walked, remember? I can’t tell her now. She’d just use it against me.”
“I think you’re wrong.” She hugged him. “Look, if you can’t handle this trip, I totally understand.” She needed him, but his happiness meant a lot to her. “You can fly home and I’ll-”
“I can handle this.” He straightened with great resolve. “Trust me, I can handle this.”
“If you’re sure-”
“Very. Did you get the chef tonight?”
“Uh…not yet. Soon. Just get some sleep, okay?”
“Yeah. ’Night.”
She went to her room and sighed at the glorious beach-themed decor that instantly instilled her with a sense of calm peace.
Or would have if tonight had gone off the way it should have.
She kicked off her shoes, her toes sinking inches into the opulent carpet. If she had to be stressed, at least this was a damn fine place to do it. After stripping, she took a long bath in her hot tub, and though she didn’t mean to, she stared at the flickering candles and let her thoughts drift to Jacob Hill-to that first moment when he’d stepped onto that elevator and stolen her breath, to the way he kissed her, to how he’d looked at her after he’d done so.
Silly as it seemed, in that beat of time, she’d lost a little part of herself to him. And whether he admitted it or not, he’d lost a little piece of himself to her, too. She’d seen it in his eyes.
And it hadn’t been just that. He’d gotten hard. She’d felt him when he’d pressed up against her, and remembering, alone in the tub, her body heated, tingled.
The carefully placed jets didn’t help ease any of that but only heightened the arousal, leaving her aching and unfulfilled and…hungry for far more than a kiss, damn it.
She could imagine it, the two of them in bed. Given the way the man walked, talked and cooked with such utter confidence and effortless ease, she knew he would do things to her that would be out of this world.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered, ruthlessly draining the tub before she could relive dessert, before she could picture how he’d looked at her as he’d fed her, how his eyes had flared when she’d licked her lips.
She was here to get him on the show! No more sex on the brain!
She had to figure out how to reach him, how to prove that her show would be different from whatever he was thinking it would be. Drying off, she climbed into the glorious bed, sliding against the silk sheets and thick comforter, her body still humming with lingering pleasure from the bath. It took a long time before sleep finally claimed her.
The next morning, after a night of Jacob-filled dreams, she sat up and laughed at herself. “No more,” she said out loud. He was her job’s salvation, which was far more important than a quick toss in the sack. Repeating it to herself like a mantra, she got dressed and called Liza.
“’Lo,” came a very grumpy, sleepy voice.
“I need caffeine,” Em said. “You with me?”
“I need someone to turn off the jackhammer inside my head,” Liza groaned.
“Meet me downstairs. I have the next best thing.”
“What’s that, a lobotomy?”
“Aspirin.”
“SO YOU DIDN’T TELL HIM you wanted him for the show.” Liza shook her head at Em and downed the aspirin.
They sat in a corner of the lobby, watching the world go by on the other side of the hotel windows, where pedestrians and cars whipped busily past them with the rushed sense of urgency characteristic of Manhattan.
“I tried to bring it up,” Em said. “But he wasn’t interested.”
But Nathan was plenty interested, as proved by the ring of her cell phone. After looking at the ID, Em rolled her eyes at Liza, and answered.
“Sign the chef yet?” he asked.
“Working on it.” She wondered if not mentioning that she was close only in her dreams was playing the “Hollywood game” the way he wanted her to.
