“Why don’t you focus on your own meal?” Leilani asks.
“Honey, it’s hard to focus on the food in front of me when you’re sitting across from me,” Andrew says. “You look like an absolute delicacy.”
Leilani drops her fork and knife and says, “That’s enough—I’m done.”
Andrew’s forehead wrinkled with concern, and he says, “You’ve barely touched your food. Shouldn’t a pregnant woman eat more?”
“I’ve lost my appetite,” Leilani says with a meaningful look. “So unless you’re going to leave, I’ll excuse myself.”
“I’ll take you upstairs,” Andrew offers.
“Don’t bother,” Leilani says, feeling nervous at the thought of being alone in the suite with him. “You might as well enjoy your meal. Don’t forget—the heart in your chest is essential to me. You need to keep it strong.”
“Are you worried about my health?” Andrew asks.
“I’m only concerned about your heart,” Leilani snaps. “Or I guess I should say Charles’ heart.”
“Fine,” Andrew says with a frown. “My bodyguards will take you up to the room.”
“Whatever,” Leilani says, standing up.
“Wait!” Andrew says.
He leaps to his feet and grabs her by her elbow, spinning her around to face him. Leilani raises her hands defensively, but she’s too slow. He pulls her tight against him and lowers his face to hers.
“Andrew,” she hisses. “Don’t push your luck!”
Andrew smirks and leans closer and closer. Very gently, he brushes his lips against hers. She shudders and tries to pull away, but he’s holding her too tightly. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft as he kisses her. She wonders if Waylen is watching, or if she imagines the icy gaze on her back.
Andrew pulls away and gazes lovingly into her eyes. She glares back, but he just smirks. His arms relax, and she squirms away from him and runs out of the restaurant as fast as she can. She returns to the suite and throws herself down on the silky sofa.
She watches TV and flips from channel to channel. For a few minutes, she watches a nature doc.u.mentary, and then for another few, an old sitcom, and then part of a tennis match. Nothing can hold her attention—she’s worried that Andrew might come back at any minute. There’s only one bed in the room, and she’s scared he’ll insist on sharing it. He can’t have s.e.x with her right now, but she shudders at the thought of being so close to him.
She sighs and reaches for her phone, but it’s not on the table. She checks her suit pocket, and it’s not there either. Suddenly, she remembers it’s still in her purse. But where’s my purse? She wonders. She gets up and checks the entryway, the changing room, the bathroom, and even the bedroom, but there’s no sign of it anywhere.
She closes her eyes and tries to remember the last time she had it. I must have dropped it in Waylen’s room, she thinks. Her stomach sinks, and her heart hammers nervously in her chest. She opens the door into the hallway and checks for Andrew’s guards, but they seem to have disappeared. She hesitates outside Waylen’s door and then knocks twice.
The escort opens the door wearing nothing but a bathrobe. The robe is tied loosely around her small waist, and the top hangs open, exposing her tan, firm b.r.e.a.s.ts. Cool air-conditioned air rushes into the hall and makes Leilani shiver. The escort leans against the doorframe and glares at Leilani.
“What do you want?” the escort asks.
Leilani looks down at the woman’s exposed neck and b.r.e.a.s.ts and sees small bite marks and hickeys speckling her skin. She looks up again and notices the escort smirking at her. Leilani feels her stomach turn and wonders if she’ll be sick.
“I left my handbag here,” Leilani says. “Would you mind grabbing it for me?”
“Why would your bag be here?” the escort asks. “Besides, I haven’t seen one.”
“It’s a black crocodile bag,” Leilani says, ignoring the escort’s comments. “It has my phone, my wallet, and a few personal items.”
“Well, I haven’t seen it,” the escort says.
The escort starts to close the door, and Leilani sticks her hand in the doorframe. The escort smiles cruelly and slams the door. The heavy wood smashes into Leilani’s fingers, and she screams out in pain. She clutches her hand to her chest as her fingers throb and sting.
“Where is Robert?” Leilani asks.
“He’s not here,” the escort says. “I needed some privacy with Waylen.”
“Fine, where’s Waylen?” Leilani asks.
“He’s in the shower,” the escort answers.
Leilani pushes past the escort and starts to look around the room. The woman chases after her.
“Hey, what are you doing?” the escort screams. “You can’t be in here!”
“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” Leilani asks. “I’m looking for my handbag.”
Before the woman can say anything, the door to the bathroom flies open. Waylen stands in the doorway, and steam drifts out around him. He has a bath towel wrapped around his h.i.p.s, and drops of water drip down his chiseled abs. A line of dark hair starts below his navel and disappears into the towel. Leilani tries not to look, but she can’t help but stare at his hard, tanned muscles.
“Waylen, this crazy woman barged in,” the escort complains. “She says she’s looking for some handbags. I told her there isn’t anything like that here, but she insists. Do you want me to call security?”
“Why would your handbag be here?” Waylen asks Leilani.
Leilani bites her lip and looks down at her feet. He really must not realize that I was in here before, she thinks. But I can’t tell him that I almost f.u.c.k.i.e.d him a few hours ago—that’s too humiliating. What excuse can I make?
“You can’t answer a simple question?” Waylen asks, his voice cold and mocking. “I bet that’s because there isn’t any handbag. Couldn’t you come up with a better excuse to see me? What did you hope would happen? Did you think I’d see you and want you back? You may look nice, but don’t forget, I threw you out. I don’t want you anymore.”
Leilani bites her lip harder to keep it from trembling. I should never have come here, she thinks. I should have just asked Robert to get my purse. This is embarrassing. I can’t tell Waylen I was here before when he obviously doesn’t even remember.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she says, turning toward the door.
“Wait,” Waylen says.
Leilani freezes and looks up at him. He steps out of the bathroom and into the light of the bedroom. Water drips down his face and jaw, and he lazily pushes his wet hair away from his forehead. He squints his eyes and slowly looks her up and down.
“You know, I have the strongest memory of f.u.c.k.i.n.g a woman against the door a few hours ago,” Waylen says. “That wasn’t you, was it?”
Leilani feels her shoulders stiffen, and a blush creeps up to her cheeks. Waylen smirks knowingly, and she realizes he was just playing with her. He probably has my bag, she thinks. Maybe he knew all along. He’s just waiting to see if I admit it or not.
He steps forward and raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to confess. Part of her wants to. She wants him to know she was the one who made him m.o.a.n a few hours ago; she wants him to know that there’s still a spark between them. But it won’t change anything—she made a deal with Andrew.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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