Two Rivals, One Bed, page 12
“Is that right?” he asked, leaning close and feeling testy as well. Until her tempting lips distracted him and he pressed his own against them.
Maeve opened her mouth to object but looking beyond him clamped it shut. Right after, the reason why stopped next to their table. Their server, a tall man wearing a starched white shirt, black trousers and a bright smile, immediately lightened the mood.
“Ms. Eddington, Mr. Cortez, how’s everything so far?”
“Excellent,” Maeve answered, directing all the flirtatiousness Victor wanted to feel on to the now blushing waiter. “And please, call me Maeve.”
“And me, Victor,” he intoned with a scowl and extra bass in his voice, breaking up the mutual admiration happening across the table.
“Yes, um, sir. May I offer the night’s special...”
Maeve and Victor’s “discussion” was sidetracked by some of the most delicious food Victor had ever tasted. Considering how extensively he’d traveled, that was saying a lot. The two opted for different entrées to sample the other’s choice. Good move. Maeve’s lobster, slathered with brown butter atop a bed of risotto was as decadent as Victor’s thoughts about Maeve, his grilled rib eye as spicy as their last time in bed. The food was enough of a distraction for a temporary truce between the feisty lawyers as conversation drifted from winning cases to delicious cuisine. Victor plied Maeve with stories of various restaurants he’d visited around the world, which stoked her sense of adventure. Her stories about family settled around him like a wool blanket as he tried to imagine growing up in such a close-knit clan. By the time dessert menus were offered, laughter had replaced their snarling and Victor was reminded just how delightful he found Maeve’s company, and how he definitely wanted to enjoy more of it.
“Of course, our traditional and popular baklava dessert is highly recommended,” the waiter told them after a busboy had cleared their plates. “But if I may suggest that on a wintery night like this, the chef’s rather unique take on the lava cake, one that involves a sinful amount of amaretto and chocolate liqueur, would be a perfect way to end the evening.”
Victor raised a brow to Maeve who placed a hand on her stomach. “It sounds amazing, but I don’t think I could eat another bite. What about you, Victor?”
“You’re looking at a man who never turns down chocolate, but it’s no fun to eat sweets alone.”
“I could have the order sent up to your room,” the waiter suggested. “Each suite has a mini fridge already stocked with a variety of beverages, but I could include a pitcher of iced coffee if you’d prefer.”
“Oh, no, we only came for dinner. We’re not spending the night.”
The waiter’s expression wavered between somber and surprise. “I think you might not have a choice.”
“What do you mean?” Maeve demanded.
“As of a half an hour ago, Highway 9 was closed.”
“Why didn’t you tell us? How were we not somehow informed?”
“I’m sorry,” the young man stuttered. “I just assumed—”
“Something you should never do!” Maeve whipped out her phone. “I’m sure there is a service who can get through to get us.”
She tapped the phone’s face to pull up a browser. “What, no internet, either?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Victor saw a middle-aged man approach, his title made clear by the starched white hat and jacket he wore.
“Good evening, Ms. Eddington,” he said, smiling, his voice filled with warmth. “My name is Chef Kai. It is a pleasure seeing you again. I hope you found your meal most enjoyable.”
Maeve continued to tap and swipe her phone. Victor answered instead. “She’s trying to get a signal,” he explained, extending his hand. “I’m Victor Cortez. The food was amazing.”
Kai gave a slight bow. “Thank you, sir.”
“Why weren’t we told about the snowstorm?” Maeve interrupted. “That in staying for dinner, we risked not being able to return home.”
“My sincerest apologies, Ms. Eddington. An announcement was made earlier in the evening, obviously before you arrived. Most of those dining are hotel guests and those who aren’t booked rooms once the snowfall increased. However, I’ll be more than happy to secure a suite if one remains, complements of Cook.”
“Mr. Cortez and I are here on a business meeting,” Maeve snapped. “We’ll need two rooms.”
Kai nodded. “We’ll do our best to accommodate your needs.”
Ten minutes later, Kai returned. “I have good news and bad news,” he said, looking from Maeve to Victor and back. “The good news is that we can accommodate you.”
“And the bad news?” Maeve asked.
“We only have one suite remaining.”
Maeve looked peeved. Victor was thrilled. His Friday night had just gotten better, and so had his liking for snow.
Seventeen
Victor and Maeve reached the suite, a classically decorated set of rooms with beauty totally lost on Maeve. She tossed her leather tote on the couch and flopped down in defeat.
“I can’t believe how off the weather report was, or that they’ve closed the roads already.” She eyed Victor, who looked cool, calm and somewhat smug as he tapped his phone. That shouldn’t have perturbed her. The weather wasn’t his fault. But his being so unbothered when her body was aching for him, causing her to want to pull out her hair, got on one of the last of the few nerves she had left.
“What are you doing?”
Victor barely reacted to her chaffing tone. “Checking out our options.”
He walked to the window.
“You’ve got service?”
“Satellite phone.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so earlier? We could have called someone and perhaps been halfway home.”
“That wasn’t possible.”
“How do you know?”
“I checked the internet.”
“When?”
“When you were showing very bad behavior to a chef who didn’t deserve it.”
His comment shoved the sarcastic response Maeve was about to deliver back down her throat. Victor was right. Kai had been gracious and she’d been a jerk. She owed him an apology. Victor, too.
“I apologize for reacting out of frustration. What’s happening is no one’s fault.”
“I can think of worse things than being stuck in a five-star hotel with an amazing woman.”
“Have you forgotten we’re scheduled to see the judge next week?”
“Not if the snow keeps coming down like this.”
Maeve joined him at the window and beheld a winter wonderland. “This looks like a frickin’ blizzard.”
“I still might be able to get us out of here. I have a friend who might be able to help.”
“How? By controlling the snow?”
Victor’s smiled could have melted the ice off the windows. “That’s not a bad idea. He owns a helicopter company and might have a partnering company here. If there is a helicopter landing pad nearby, we can potentially be lifted out.”
Maeve’s phone rang. Her eyes brightened. “We’ve got service!” She raced over and retrieved the phone from her tote. Victor waved as he left the room for the hotel lobby. Looking at the caller ID, her smile waned. Instead of Reign, the only person she’d told about dinner with Victor, it was Mona.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Maeve! Thank goodness you finally answered. I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I had a business meeting at Hotel Bouvó. The service went down.”
“You went all the way out there? In this weather?”
“It wasn’t snowing that bad when I left Chicago.”
“It caught everyone off guard. Came out of nowhere. They’ve just issued a winter storm warning.”
“Oh, no! For how long?” Maeve tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but staying away from Victor for one night was already impossible, let alone two.
“The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Don’t stress about it, dear. That’s a beautiful hotel. Treat this like an impromptu vacation.”
“I don’t have time for a vacation. I’ve got a case... I’ve got work to do.”
“You don’t have your computer?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts. Work from there. Not tonight, though, darling. You sound as tight as a drum. Have a bottle of wine brought up to the room and take a long relaxing soak. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“Why were you trying to reach me?”
“It can wait.”
“Mom...”
“Just some Point gossip. No big deal. I’ll give the family an update so they don’t worry. Keep me posted on when the road is cleared and you’re on your way home.”
“Will do.”
Maeve ended the call and looked around. Really, the room was just way too romantic. The fireplace. Homey atmosphere. Big inviting bed. One look at the turquoise blue spread and she was back in Costa Rica with Victor, their hot bodies entwined in brash desire before being cooled by the open patio door’s ocean breeze. She rushed to the window to turn off the memory. Big flakes of fluffy white snow brought her back to the Midwest. A knock on the door brought her back to reality. Had Victor forgotten his key?
Maeve crossed over and looked through the keyhole. It was a hotel employee holding a gift box. She unlocked the door. “Yes?”
“Ms. Eddington, this is for you.”
“I don’t think so. No one knows I’m here.”
“It’s from the hotel. A few amenities for our guests. We know some of you didn’t plan to spend the night and thought this gift box would help.”
Maeve reached for it just as the elevator dinged and Victor strolled out. “I’ll take that.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bill. “Thanks.”
Continuing on to the table, he set down the box. Maeve followed him over. “What is it?”
Together, they checked out the contents: a bottle of wine, bottles of water, gourmet snacks, toiletries, candles.
“That was thoughtful,” she said.
“I think so.” Victor read the wine bottle label. “Would you like a glass?”
Maeve shook her head. “I’m good.” She figured she was about one sip of wine away from jumping Victor’s bones. Best to keep a clear head.
He walked over to the fireplace and, after a quick glance at the mantel, turned on the switch.
“Do we really need that?” Maeve asked.
Victor shrugged. “Looks nice.”
“Fine. I’m going to check a few emails, take a shower and go to bed. Are there extra linens for the couch or should I have them bring some up?”
Victor’s look was worth a thousand words. “The couch? Woman, I’ve never slept on a couch in my life.”
“First time for everything,” Maeve huffed before turning around and flouncing off to work at the desk in the bedroom.
His low-throated laugh was as irritating as it was sexy. It was all she could do not to try to slam the door shut. But she didn’t. She was twenty-eight, not sixteen. Instead, she took a breath, pulled out a set of folders and her tablet, and tried to concentrate on the case.
Impossible. Especially with Victor now happily whistling in the other room. She wished for headphones but hers were unfortunately in the glove compartment of her car, not the family vehicle parked in the garage downstairs.
She sat back, tapping her fingers on the mouse as she looked out the window. Freezing temperatures aside, Maeve loved this time of year. The snow made everything look clean and beautiful. Weather like this forced the world to slow down, take a breath. Any other time with any other person, she would have relished the setting, especially the fireplace. She’d loved them ever since believing that the chimney was how Santa came bearing gifts. Just beyond the door was another present to unwrap and play with, a gift named Victor. A real-life boy toy that was more off-limits than the apple in the world’s first garden. The handsome devil himself had tried to warn her about the weather. But little miss know-it-all had to act like, well, like she knew it all. Snippets of the conversation they’d had as she drove to the hotel drifted through her mind.
I checked the forecast. It’ll taper off shortly. The temps will drop around midnight but we’re good.
It’s snowing harder up here. That astute observation should have given her a clue. She’d been all too ready to ease his anxiety.
Yeah, it’s picking up a little bit. Plus, I believe this is a county road. Probably takes those workers a little longer to clear it than the highways and interstates. Don’t worry, though. Cook is a well-known restaurant within a quaint and popular hotel. It’s always booked. They’ll make sure the roads are okay.
Maeve had been so confident, so sure that the weather would stay mild and the roads, safe. Now, in this moment, all she felt was danger. Determined to get her mind off Victor, she pulled out the folder from accounting, the one with all the information on Louis Guitterez and had just begun researching his present whereabouts when the room went black.
Maeve froze, her hand hovering over the computer mouse. “What just happened?”
“I think it’s the power. My phone just switched back from Wi-Fi to satellite. Electricity must be out.” There was a pause before she heard Victor mumble to himself yet with a voice loud enough that she overhead him, “Looks like we’re going to have candlelight, after all.”
Maeve bit back a forlorn moan. It was hard enough controlling herself in broad daylight. When it came to resisting Victor’s magnetic pull during a blackout, she was in deep caca. Hiding out in the bedroom wouldn’t work. Mere feet away from a king-size paradise was the last place she needed to be. With the glow of the fireplace providing adequate lighting, she walked down the hallway and rejoined Victor in the main living space. She watched as he walked to the door and flicked the light switch. Nothing. He bypassed Maeve now in the hallway and went to the nightstand next to the bed. He pushed the button on the bottom of a lamp. Still no light. She retrieved her phone from where it had been charging in the bedroom.
“Yeah, we’ve lost power. My phone is no longer charging.”
“It’s probably only temporary,” Victor offered. “Most hotels have backup generators.
“I hope so.” She crossed over to a table, picked up the hotel phone and called the front desk. Moments later, the totally disheartened woman walked over to the blue flames that licked the glass enclosing it.
“The generator isn’t working. A part they ordered months ago has yet to arrive.”
“At least we’ve got the fireplace. Must be gas.”
Victor looked over from where he’d walked to the window. “I can’t believe the amount of snow that’s fallen since we arrived. We could be snowed in for weeks, months.”
“I doubt it’s as bad as it looks,” Maeve answered with a soft chuckle, joining him at the window. “This snow came down quickly. It is thick but powdery. That’s a good thing. Unless it continues to fall at this rate or we experience a significant temperature drop, the road crews and utility companies should be able to respond to the covered roads and power issues fairly quickly.”
Clearly, Maeve was no psychic. The weather report Victor found using his satellite phone contradicted everything she had assumed. The entire metropolitan area of Chicago was under a severe winter storm warning that included record-breaking snowfall for the next seventy-two hours along with temperatures set to drop below zero later that night. Citizens were warned against travel by car or foot. Pet owners were strongly encouraged to bring their furry friends inside. Even outside dogs were to be coaxed into garages. Because the snow would continue nonstop, it would be at least tomorrow morning before road crews began their work.
Maeve felt Victor’s eyes on her. His gaze seared her skin and sent blood pumping into sensitive places.
“And if it doesn’t?”
She swallowed and crossed her arms over nipples suddenly at attention. “I suggest we think positive and visualize being back in town.”
“In the meantime...we’ve got tonight.” Victor walked over to the table, where he removed the candles and a box of matches boasting the hotel’s logo from the gift box. He lit the candles, then reached back into the gift box and pulled out the bottle of wine.
He nodded toward the kitchenette, then spoke to Maeve in a tone that brooked no argument. “There should be glasses in the cabinet.”
“Who says I want wine?”
His gaze was searing, his eyes dark, challenging. “You don’t?”
“Maybe a small glass. A drink. That’s all I’m agreeing to. For everything else, this is an off-limits zone.”
She whirled around and almost stomped to the kitchenette, but not before peeping the Cheshire cat smile on Victor’s smug face. In that moment, she wished for dry roads, any other available room within walking distance—yes, in knee-deep snow—heck, even a room with double beds. Actually, she longed for something even more unlikely, the willpower to resist Victor’s irresistible charm. Even as she reached for the wineglasses, she knew that rejecting his inevitable advances was unlikely to happen. Because the only thing she wanted more than being able to resist him was to experience total surrender.
Eighteen
Victor managed to hide his smile. Maeve’s mouth could say whatever it wanted but her eyes, attitude and body language told him all he need to know. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. And as much as she wanted to fight it, he knew how the night would end. The look in Maeve’s eyes as she returned from the kitchenette suggested that she knew it, too. She placed the glasses on the table, then continued to the window.
“It’s beautiful out here.” Her voice was soft, silky, the way he imagined her skin beneath the bulky sweater. Suddenly, his hands itched to rub themselves against that skin, to reacquaint their touch with those unforgettable moments in Costa Rica now indelibly etched into his mind. He wasn’t a schoolboy, though, so Victor kept his cool. He uncorked the bottle and filled their glasses, then walked to the couch in front of the fireplace. The perfect setting for seduction.
