I sighed. “You don’t need to stay in here, you know. There’s another room on the top floor.” The one right next to mine. Why not? I was a glutton for punishment.

“That’s okay. This is where the help goes, and I’m well aware of my place.”

She turned to tuck a sweater into the drawer by the bed. As she bent, flaunting her fine ass in my direction, the first thought inside my head was, Yeah, your place is naked and sweating underneath me.

With a huff of frustration, I tore my eyes away before she could turn back to me.

“Can we call a truce, please? We’re both here in a foreign country. We don’t know anyone…”

She scoffed. “Canada is hardly a foreign country.”

“It’s close. They talk funny here. I feel lonesome already. Please be my friend and fellow American?”

She clenched her jaw and released it, folding her arms across her chest. I forced myself not to remember how those tits had tasted. Fuck. What the hell was wrong with me? I was randier than a fifteen-year-old boy who’d been forbidden to whack off.

I backed away from the door. “Come on…let’s go check out the view. And aren’t you hungry? Come on, Weiss. Loosen up and cut me a break.”

Her eyes narrowed, but her mouth curved into a smile. “I’d like to cut you… or break something.”

“Very funny. I’ll be sure to sleep with one eye open tonight. Now come on.” I spun, hoping she would follow me. But deep down I knew it was in both our best interests if she didn’t.

Chapter 17

April

I followed that sinfully hot—er—evil man down the hallway, through the suite and toward the back patio, which was at the top of one of the towers.

He turned to me, his face split into a heart-arresting smile. His cheeks were rough from the lack of shaving, and I wondered if he was going for some kind of hipster look for his speech. My cheeks burned and I looked away. If it were possible for him to be any more fucking gorgeous than he already was, he’d added scruff to the equation. Scruff was like my catnip. It made me weak-kneed. Oh lordy. I had to keep my thoughts clean and focused on how much I hated him, but the scruff wasn’t helping.

It was making my hated but hot boss, who was the most amazing lover I’d ever had, even hotter. I blinked. It had been thirty-six hours since I’d discovered the identity of Falco the sex god of Comic-Con, and I’d been reliving that night ever since. But when I thought about sitting across his hard thighs, my own legs open to him, his hands squeezing my hips, I now saw Jordan’s handsome face instead of Falco’s helmeted head.

And when I thought about how he’d laid me on the bed then pressed down on top of me with his hard, solid body, I remembered the smell of him as Jordan’s smell. And when I thought about Falco’s sizable cock moving inside me—

“Let’s order some dinner.” Jordan stopped by the phone where the room service menu was propped up on display.

Oh yeah, dinner. That’d be good.

He handed me the menu and I picked out what I wanted—a Chinese chicken salad. Jordan ordered a steak and potato. So predictable I almost yawned.

While we waited for the food to show up, I opened the sliding glass door and walked out onto a shiny marble patio, where there was a private pool and Jacuzzi, a sauna and an outdoor fireplace. I glanced up at the sky, gray with darkened clouds. The forecast called for rain, unsurprisingly enough. The Pacific Northwest was known for its profuse greenery for a reason. Fortunately, it was September, so the weather wasn’t too cold yet. A soak in the Jacuzzi might be fun, provided I didn’t freeze my ass off during the run indoors.

After a few minutes, Jordan trailed after me, standing a little distance away, hands stuffed inside his pockets. I tried not to notice how that made his jeans hug his hard ass. Ugh. I had to stop looking at him and most definitely had to stop lusting after him.

I was probably a blip on his radar now. The man bedded women left and right—actresses, models, socialites. I, on the other hand, had been told that I was boring in bed. And Jordan hardly seemed affected by my presence.

Sure, he’d kissed me at his house and had done some other naughty things at the martini bar. But I figured it was because he was bored, and he damn well hadn’t tried anything since.

I took a breath and spoke to break the awkward silence. I was still pissed, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be civil to the bastard. “So have you been practicing your speech? Are you ready for your eighteen minutes of fame?”

He shrugged a big shoulder. “I’ve been ready. I’ve recited the goddamn thing to myself in my sleep for the past three weeks.”