Burned Deep (30 page)

Down the hall, I crossed the vast great room, pausing to pick up Dane's shirt from the floor, where we'd left it last night. Apparently, he'd put the drawstring pants back on, because they were missing. I held the linen shirt to my nose and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of him. So much so, I loosened the sash on the robe and eased out of it. I put his shirt on instead and drew in another deep breath.

I turned toward the wall of windows and doors and found Dane at one of the smaller glass-topped tables. Watching me.

I passed through the opened doors to the terrace on the bank of the creek. Heaters kept the early-morning chill at bay.

Dane had the newspaper in one hand, a mug of cappuccino in the other, as I joined him.

“That was sexy,” he said, lust tingeing his voice.

My cheeks warmed. “Too bad we can't bottle your scent. I like it even more than the frankincense.”

He set aside the coffee and paper and reached for me, pulling me into his lap. He wrapped one arm around my waist. The other hand cupped the side of my face and he kissed me. Slowly, deeply. As it went on and on, his palm slid over my throat and down to my chest. He deftly worked the first few buttons and slipped his hand inside to caress my breast and then brushed his thumb over my tight nipple. As he paid the same attention to my other breast, magma flowed in my veins.

When he finally dragged his mouth from mine, I was burning up. No heaters necessary.

“It'll definitely be a toasty winter if you keep doing that.”

He grinned. Funny how he didn't even balk at my second mention of us being together in winter when it was still only September.

My fingers skimmed over the scratches on his bare chest, running from his collarbone to his pecs. Four nail marks that clawed at him.

“I'm sorry,” I said with a cringe.

“Don't be. I like you all worked up and crazed for me.” His voice was sensual and arousing.

He kissed me again. Then, breathless, I got to my feet and took the chair across from him. Or we'd never make it to work.

“Keep the buttons undone,” he said, his tone a bit darker.

I did as instructed.

He asked, “Which section of the paper do you want?”

“Sports.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Why'd I even ask?” He handed it over.

I scanned scores as I dug into the omelet on my plate. Fully loaded and absolutely fantastic. I moaned. “My compliments to Ms. Crocker.”

He chuckled. “Don't get too excited. I have a very limited kitchen repertoire.”

“Good thing you have five-star chefs at your disposal.”

“It's certainly a perk.”

I went back to devouring my breakfast, including the southwestern potatoes with red and green bell peppers and onions, a hint of cayenne and paprika to add just the right amount of spice. Ravenous, I barely said another word until I reached for my orange juice to wash it all down. Then I started in on the cappuccino.

When we were finished, I stood to collect the dishes.

“Don't worry about them,” Dane said. “I have someone who cleans. Rosa. She comes in at nine.”

“Then I'll do my makeup and get dressed.”

As much as I wanted to kiss him before I left the patio, I hesitated. All of this was out of my realm of normalcy. I didn't want to make assumptions. Though after last night … all the intimacy and the things we'd said in the heat of passion—

Dane caught my wrist, taking the guesswork out of how this was all supposed to go. He got to his feet, drew me into his arms, and kissed me. It sizzled as he held me tightly and his tongue delved deep, sliding over mine.

When he eventually pulled away, I was breathless. Yet somehow I managed to say, “We're going to be late. I wouldn't want the boss to think I'm a slacker.”

His mischievous grin made my stomach flip. “I think you're safe.” He kissed me again, another scorcher. Then said, “Take however much time you need.”

“Thanks.” I returned to his bathroom and wrapped up quickly.

We met in the foyer and I all but melted in my high heels. Dane wore black, too. A sharp tailored suit I had no doubt was by Armani or some other prestigious designer. A dark-gray silk tie complemented his crisp white shirt.

“I forgot how incredible you look with clothes on,” I told him, admiring the view. “Though naked really is preferable.”

“You're amusing.”

“I'm being totally serious.” And had to bite back the sigh of longing swelling in my throat.

He took my tote from me and gathered up both our laptop bags. I preceded him outside. We left in his black Escalade instead of the F5. I surmised the latter lacked trunk space. Or a backseat. There'd be no place to put our bags, except piled high on my lap.

We left the gated property and I tried to shift my attention from Dane to work as we drove into Sedona and then west toward the Lux. It was difficult to concentrate, though, when flashes of him between my legs, behind me, beneath me, on top of me, riddled my mind. It was completely insane, but now I ached for him
all
the time.

We slowed at the security booth but breezed through the gates, the guards clearly recognizing Dane's vehicle and license plate, not daring to detain the owner of 10,000 Lux. We pulled alongside the entrance of the hotel and Brandon, dressed in black pants and a black polo shirt with the Lux's crest in gold on the left chest, swooped in to open the passenger door for me. It suddenly hit me how my arrival with Dane must appear.

I quickly explained to the valet, “I had car trouble this morning. Mr. Bax was kind enough to give me a ride.”

“If your Sorento needs to go to the dealer, Miss DeMille, I can arrange that for you. Pickup and delivery. You don't have to do a thing.”

“Wow, you really are all about first-class service.”

He smiled. “Well, it's not exactly your standard hotel.”

“No, it's definitely not.”

Brandon retrieved our bags from the back of the SUV and handed them over. Then he walked ahead of us to the tall doors and pulled one open. I caught sight of Kyle in the lobby and quickened my pace.

“Hey,” I said. “Don't you look professional?”

He wore a navy-colored suit and what I suspected were new shoes.

“Interview,” he explained. “I'm meeting someone from HR.”

“Probably Patricia.” I glanced at Dane, who kept up with me, given his wide strides. “You two haven't officially been introduced. Dane Bax, Kyle Jenns.”

They shook, though it was that sharp, tense kind that belied the whole territory-encroachment issue.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

But I'd already pleaded my case with Dane, and he'd agreed to let the chips fall where they may when it came to Kyle possibly working at the Lux.

“And there's Patricia now,” I said as she stepped around a white marble and gold-accented pillar. She headed our way. “So, good luck,” I told Kyle as Dane latched on to my elbow and started to maneuver me away. “Let me know how it goes.”

We started off toward the glass-enclosed elevators. Over my shoulder, I mouthed,
Call me
. I held my hand up to my ear, mimicking the pinkie and thumb gesture for Kyle to phone.

Dane's grip tightened on my elbow and I turned back to him. “After last night, do you honestly think he's any sort of competition?”

“Haven't we already established that I protect what's mine?”

A wicked thrill shot through me. “He's no threat, Dane,” was all I could say.

The truth was, it excited the hell out of me that he had this claim over me. It was completely foreign yet exhilarating.

We flashed our badges against the electronic reader he'd just had installed at the west wing bank of elevators, so that only authorized personnel could access this portion of the hotel. On the fourth floor, we parted ways at my office door.

There was no one in the hallway, so he leaned in close and whispered, “We'll have dinner tomorrow night. Pack another bag.”

My pulse jumped. “Feel free to punish me if Kyle gets the job.”

He scowled—though somewhat playfully. “You already know he's getting the job.”

“Dane.” I smiled at him.

“It's what you wanted.”

“Yes, so … Thank you.” I kissed him on the cheek, then entered my office, a bit on the giddy side. Too bad I couldn't tell my new friend, so he wouldn't stress over the interview. But I couldn't call him now that he was with Patricia.

I set my tote alongside my desk and unloaded my laptop bag. I had another huge stack of catalogs to wade through and samples to order. I also needed to take photos of the lobby to fully assess where all the decorations would go and somehow gauge how many miles of garland, crates of ornaments, truckloads of wreaths, et cetera, I'd need.

And twinkle lights.

Lots and lots of clear twinkle lights.

Amano waited for me outside my office when I headed to the stairwell. He fell into step behind me, not crowding me, but close enough that he could intervene in any given situation. It was a bit disconcerting to have someone follow my every move. However, if it made Dane feel better until he'd fixed all of his problems at the resort I'd do as asked and let Amano perform his duties. He wasn't a nuisance, didn't try to chat me up. Just provided a protective presence.

I snapped photos of the outer entrance of the Lux. Then the lobby and reception area. The key to the holiday decorations was to create a beautifully festive ambience but not overdo it so that anything detracted from the natural, decadent opulence of the place.

Though I was extremely good at striking a balance with my weddings, I couldn't help but fear I'd go overboard here. So much opportunity and an astronomical budget were demonic temptations to a party planner. But, again, the goal was not to have every inch of 10,000 Lux dripping Christmas decorations. I had to be strategic. What I did needed to accentuate, enhance, complement what currently existed. Not overrun the stunning fixtures and features of the hotel.

My stomach churned as I considered how seriously I could fuck this all up. And let Dane down.

I didn't even know how to calculate the amount of everything I'd have to order. I decorated a sad-sack Charlie Brown Christmas tree every year, because my dad and I didn't really do holidays. So my effort was hardly on par with what I dealt with now.

And that brought up another consideration—trees. Did I want a single tall one standing between the curving staircases? Accompanied by two skinny ones up front at the entrance? Or maybe just the skinny trees so I didn't block the view out to the grounds beyond the lobby?

Shit.
For that matter, where the hell would I get a real tree that spanned three or four stories? Where would I get an artificial one of that magnitude if I had to go that route?

I stalked back to the stairwell, forgetting all about Amano as I stewed over my lack of experience with something as simple as holiday decorations.

I spent the majority of the day on the Internet, deciding I had to start with the tree options before I could even think of selecting ornaments. Something told me I'd need everything custom made. But did we have enough time for that?

Mid-afternoon, Molly came into my office with three gentlemen wearing jeans and T-shirts, tool belts around their waists.

She said, “Your corkboard has arrived. Is now a good time to install it?”

“Install?” My brow jerked up. What had Dane done?

I stepped around my desk and into the hallway, finding a long metal cart with a mammoth wood cabinet resting on it, protected by a drop cloth on the floor of the cart.

One of the men told me, “There's corkboard inside and also on the inner panels of the doors, so that you have more space to pin stuff. You can also close and lock the cabinet when necessary, for security.”

“Wow. This is much more than I expected.” So Dane-like.

“It'll take us about a half hour to install it. Just confirm where you want it hung.”

We returned to my office and I indicated the wall by the conference table.

“I have a meeting,” I said, “so now works well.”

I gathered up my papers and placed them in a black leather folio. Then I left the workers to it. Molly and I walked toward the stairwell, since that was where Dane's office suite was located. He was just outside the door to his inner sanctum, engaged in discussion with Amano.

As we approached, Molly peeled off to enter the suite.

Dane asked me, “Where are you off to?”

“I have a meeting on the third floor with PR.” To Amano, I said, “I won't be long. There are some guys in my office putting up my corkboard.” I shot Dane a look and added, “Thanks, by the way. It's gorgeous. And huge.”

“You have a lot of planning to do.”

Hadn't I just learned the full extent of it this morning? “I do. This will be a big help.”

Amano said, “Maybe I should be in there with them.”

“Probably a good idea,” Dane agreed.

I didn't have anything top secret going on at the moment, but given the anxiety over security that Dane had, I wouldn't add to his grief by protesting.

Instead, I assured them, “I'll just be one floor down with Traci Carpenter, VP of Public Relations.”

Dane nodded his approval. I moved past them as they wrapped up their conversation. I opened the heavy door and stepped into the stairwell, trying to get my breathing under control before I met with Traci. I didn't need her seeing me all flushed and excited. She wouldn't know it was because of Dane, granted. But still. A five-second conversation with him had me all hot and bothered, so that I was—

I drew up short on the fifth step down and let out a bloodcurdling scream. My heart leapt into my throat and my portfolio went flying, all the papers scattering in the air.

On the landing not more than six or seven steps from me was a rattlesnake. Coiled and hissing.