The Suite Life (14 page)

Less than ten minutes later, he sat up on his side of the bed, feet planted on the floor. “I gotta get going, Sam,” he said over a shoulder.

“I thought we were going to have lunch together.”

“No time to eat with you now,” he said as he turned and patted my arm. “Not after the, uh, appetizer. Order something for yourself here or at the pool, anywhere you like. Just sign our room number.”

With that, he stood up, letting the sheet slide away as he turned around, his nakedness in full view for the first time. Every inch of his body was bathed in tropical light, and although his midsection had a few extra curves and folds, I couldn't imagine him looking any other way.

“I can't keep Ted Ross waiting,” Alec said, snapping me back to attention.

“The senator's brother?”

“Yup,” he replied as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Five minutes later he was showered and dressed, moving fast again. “I'll meet you back here at five, okay?” he asked and I nodded. “We'll have an early dinner, just the two of us, before meeting up with the others.” He smiled, opened his wallet, and tossed his AmEx card onto the bed. “Just in case you see something in town,” he said as the door closed behind him, leaving me alone in the suite. Suddenly I couldn't help wondering why Alec even wanted me here when his real priority was clearly the merger, and not our still only six-week-old relationship.

Alec returned shortly after five looking so pleased with himself that I knew his deal was going well and he hadn't given me a moment's thought.

“You didn't go shopping?” he asked, picking up the AmEx card from the bed, right where he'd dropped it.

“I just needed to chill for a while,” I said with a shrug. In truth, I hadn't felt comfortable throwing around someone else's money on things I could never justify needing.

“Well, I picked up something for you from the shop downstairs,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small white box, which he handed to me. I slipped the cover off and saw the sterling silver rosary nestled in white cotton.

Maybe I was on his mind this afternoon after all.

“It's beautiful, Alec.” I sighed as I slipped the rosary into my fingers and lifted it up.

He grabbed my hand, kissed my fingers and the rosary, and looked me in the eyes. “Not as beautiful as you are, Sam,” he said softly, “and not as beautiful as what we have.”

I smiled and wondered if it was the right time to ask him the question I'd been asking myself all day:
Where does our relationship stand?
“Thank you, Alec,” I said, squeezing the beads.

“I picked up a rosary for Dad, too,” he announced gleefully. “And I think I'll get that purse you said you liked yesterday for Mom.”

I stiffened as soon as he said that, as Tony Kroon and his jewelry purchases came to mind.
What is it with these Italian guys? Can't they buy something for their girl without thinking about someone in their family at the same time?

The Four Lanterns restaurant was in a converted stone and cedar Georgian house. The dining room, with its mahogany beams and linen tablecloths, was perfectly understated, and the food easily lived up to the setting. The baked bananas we had
for dessert were almost as sinful as Alec's past, but not as sinful as the check—so sinful, in fact, that American Express had to call the restaurant to confirm that Alec DeMarco was indeed using the card.

“Three thousand dollars?” I exclaimed when Alec told me how much the tab was.

“That bottle of wine alone was worth every bit of twenty-one hundred bucks.” Alec shrugged as he took my hand to leave. “C'mon, beautiful,” he said then, quickly changing gears. “Jack and Patricia are waiting for us at the tiki bar.”

After a couple of drinks with Jack and Patricia, Alec and I walked hand in hand to the terrace and rode the elevator to our suite. A semi-cuddle in bed was all I could manage after our decadent meal, but he seemed content with that and quickly dozed off.

The next morning I was showered and dressed before Alec stirred. Feeling somewhat renewed by a sound night's sleep, I waited for him on the veranda.

Alec shuffled to the doorway in his robe a half hour later. “How about breakfast downstairs on the terrace?” he said with a smile.

“Perfect,” I said, figuring that if I was distracted it wouldn't be so noticeable when we weren't alone.

Halfway through our lobster omelets, two young women in high-heeled sandals pranced over to our table. Alec sat back and smiled up at them, calm as could be, while I said a silent thanks for the dark glasses that hid my startled expression. The taller of the two stood there with tight lips and arms crossed as the other reached into her pocketbook and tossed a rolled-up belt onto the table. “You left that in our room the other night,” she said with a smirk.

“It isn't mine,” Alec said without missing a beat.

“Whatever,” she huffed as the two turned on their heels and slunk away.

Alec shook his head, chuckled, and looked at me. My lips had gotten tighter and I was wringing my hands under the table, stunned into silence.

“I could cut the tension with my knife.” He smiled thinly as he looked at me.

Or your wrists, for all I care,
I thought bitterly.
It seems that six weeks really isn't enough time to get to know someone, inside and out.

Alec's smile disappeared and his eyes searched for mine. “What's the matter, Sam?”

“Oh, nothing,” I scoffed. “Every guy I date has women he slept with show up at the breakfast table.”

“I'm serious, Sam,” Alec said, grabbing the belt. “It isn't mine, and I didn't sleep with them. They're hookers working the conference here. Gotta keep my clients happy.”

“So you're a pimp, then.”

“I do what I have to,” he said, recovering his Wall Street bravado.

“Whatever,” I huffed, sounding a lot like the recently departed hooker and looking right through him.
Why didn't I hang on to that AmEx card? I could be on the next flight out of here. Even better, charter a private jet. That would serve him right.

Alec leaned forward and slid his hands toward me. I shivered, tropical sun and all, at the thought of him touching me. I was glad my hands were still under the table, because that saved me the trouble of pulling them away.

“Sam,” he said, “you can ask me anything.”

My head swiveled from one table of happy diners to another.

“I'll tell you whatever you want to know, except the names of the guilty parties.”

As I turned to face him, I shot daggers through my
sunglasses. “I find it hard to believe you really didn't do anything with those women. They seemed to know you pretty damn well.”

Alec laughed out loud, shaking me to the core. My mind was going off in all directions and I couldn't think of anything to say. But Alec jumped right in to fill the agonizing pause. “Listen, Sam,” he said, leaning back. “This isn't easy for me to talk about.”

I'm all busted up about your discomfort.

He struggled for words, as if he were in a confessional. “Sometimes you have to do things you aren't necessarily proud of to get to the top, Sam. But I promise you that I didn't sleep with those women.” I still felt numb. I didn't know what to think. “There's no one else and nothing else matters since I met you.”

I wanted to believe him. I'd come to trust Alec in a way I didn't think was possible after Tony. But I could tell I wasn't getting the whole story—and I wasn't sure I wanted to know it. “I want to believe you, Alec.” I sighed, relenting a little.

“Do you have any reason not to?”

“Well, you've got to admit you're a little crazy,” I said with a cynical smile.

His big grin returned in all its glory. “Crazy for you, Sam.”

He leaned toward me to plant a kiss on my cheek, but I placed a hand on his chest and stopped him.

“Alec.” I turned to look him in the eye. It was the same probing look that my mother and grandmother had used on me countless times, as if reading my answer to their question before I'd even given it. “Listen, I didn't come out of dating a gangster without a few battle scars. And trust is a big one. If we're going to have any sort of future together, I have to know I can trust you. I have to know I am not making the same mistake my mother made.” I paused and looked down. “You need to tell
me everything. I'm a big girl; I can handle it. I just need to know the truth.”

“Sam, I've always been honest with you. I just worry that some of the rough stuff in my past is going to change your opinion of me . . . and I'm crazy about you.”

“Alec, the past doesn't matter to me. Believe me, when you read my book, you'll learn a few things about me you'd rather not know.” He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable thinking about the men in my past. I leaned in conspiratorially. “Don't let my spirituality fool you into thinking I'm some kind of nun; I like that you've been a bad boy.” He looked up and I gave him a sly smile.

“Really?” he asked, sounding at once hopeful and relieved.

“Really,” I said reassuringly. “I'm not judging you at all, Alec. We all have skeletons in our closets we'd rather forget. I just need you to be honest with me about yours so I won't obsess over imagining you with women far more experienced than me. I want to know everything about you—kinks and all.”

Alec looked at me with such tenderness, I felt the full force of his love for me in that instant. He exhaled. “It wasn't until I met you that I knew exactly what I wanted out of life, Sam—the minute I laid eyes on you I vowed to become the kind of man who deserves you.” He gazed at me so intensely that I blushed and looked away. “Are you sure you want to hear this stuff? I will tell you every last detail if that's what you want . . .”

Fair warning
. I looked at him and smiled. “I want every last dirty detail.”

Over coffee, Alec proceeded to tell me everything. And I mean everything. He started with the story of the hookers from the night before I arrived. Apparently, his client, a paunchy middle-aged golf nut with a Junior League wife and two kids in Connecticut, had a taste for bondage. After getting sauced and horny at a strip club, the client asked Alec to get him “a shot and
two girls.” Alec paused then and looked at me to make sure I was still with him. I nodded, doing my best to reserve judgment despite now having the visual of the two skanks implanted firmly in my head.

He continued: “By ‘shot,' he didn't mean alcohol, Sam . . . He meant a cock shot.”

“What?” I practically spit out my water and then laughed uncomfortably. “What's a cock shot?”

“A while back we made a connection with a doctor in the porn industry who hooked us up with injections so we could last as long as we wanted.”

We
 . . .
he said “we.”
“And . . . did you do one that night?”

“I'm not going to lie, Sam: I was tempted. Old habits die hard, you know. But all I had to do was think of you being in my arms the next day and the temptation passed. I might have even gone through with the injection if your flight were getting in sooner.” I raised an eyebrow. “But I realized that I didn't need a shot to be with you. Those girls from last night tried to get me to join in—that's probably why they were pouting this morning: I rejected them, left a generous wad of cash on the coffee table, went to my room, poured myself a scotch from the minibar, and watched a porn flick.”

Well, he certainly doesn't mince words!
Alec leaned back as I took it all in. “I'm glad you told me, Alec. This whole world of yours is so foreign to me and I really want to understand it since it is such a big part of your life. I want you to let me in and tell me everything.”

“Are you sure?” He raised an eyebrow at me this time, then signaled the waiter for a grappa.