Read Online Lone Stallion's Lady by Lisa Jackson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisa Jackson
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bedroom.”
“Maybe you’d better bring it out.”
She half expected him to invite her to go get it herself, but he nodded curtly and, leaving his glass beside hers, walked through the open doors again and returned with the black suit and shirt. “You don’t have to do this,” he admitted.
“Of course I do.”
“It was an accident.”
“I know, but I’d really feel better if you’d let me take care of it.” She didn’t want to argue, just make tracks.
“Why?” he asked. “Why would it make you feel better, since we both know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Accident or not, it was my fault.” Oh, this argument was stupid.
He shook his head, tossed the suit onto a couch, cast a guilty glance at Gina and then out the window. “Maybe I should be honest with you.”
Gina cringed inwardly at the words. “You haven’t been?”
“Nope.”
“You’re not really a millionaire, is that it?” she said, though the joke fell flat and she already knew it was the truth.
“Nah, that’s not what I was talking about.” His blue eyes met hers with such an urgent honesty she nearly gasped. “I wanted an excuse to get you up here.”
“Oh?” She swallowed hard.
“The dry cleaning was just a ploy. I don’t give a damn about it.”
“And once you got me up here?” she asked, sweating a bit, her heart knocking. Was it her imagination or had the temperature in the suite just gone up about fifteen degrees?
“I just wanted to get you alone.”
Her heart began to jump now. “Why’s that?” she asked, but she saw the passion in his gaze.
“Because, darlin’, I think you’re the most interesting woman I’ve seen in a long, long time.”
“You…you don’t even know me.”
“But I’d like to.” His expression was sincere, but she warned herself not to believe him.
“I bet you say that to all the girls who pour wine on your clothes.”
His lips twitched. “You’re right. All of them.”
She felt an unlikely stab of disappointment.
“And all of them are right here.”
“Imagine that. All the klutzes in one suite. Gee, Mr. Remmington, how did you manage that?”
“I’d like to say it was skill, but it was probably just dumb luck.”
She giggled despite all her reservations. What was there about him she found so damned alluring? So sensual? Intriguing enough that she would cast downher natural defenses and throw all caution to the wind? She could rationalize from now until eternity, tell herself that it was because she “knew” him from everything she’d read and researched about the enigmatic bastard son of Larry Kincaid, but there was more to it than that. She was smitten with this stranger. Felt a bond with him he didn’t even know existed. She was a fool, that was it. And she had to leave now.
As if he’d read her mind, he said, “You could stay.”
Her heart nearly stopped. She was tempted, but no, she couldn’t.
“I don’t spend the night with strangers.”
“You could get to know me first.”
“I think, Mr. Remmington—”
“Trent.”
“Okay. I think, Trent, it would take more than a couple of hours to get to know you.”
“I can be very charming.”
“Oh, please. Good night.”
To her surprise and chagrin he didn’t try to stop her.
He lifted a shoulder. “Whatever you think’s best, Celia.”
That name again. Reminding her of her duplicity. “Just don’t tell me I’m missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime,” she said, scooping up the soiled suit, shirt and tie.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He didn’t so much as take a step closer to her. Again that ridiculous stab of disappointment. “Well, thanks for the drink, the conversation, and the champagne. I’ll see that these are delivered before you check out.”
“Thanks.”
Feeling suddenly silly, she started for the door, then crossed the room and stood in front of him. Still holding the bundle of clothes, she said, “It’s been interesting.”
“Amen.”
Impulsively
“Maybe you’d better bring it out.”
She half expected him to invite her to go get it herself, but he nodded curtly and, leaving his glass beside hers, walked through the open doors again and returned with the black suit and shirt. “You don’t have to do this,” he admitted.
“Of course I do.”
“It was an accident.”
“I know, but I’d really feel better if you’d let me take care of it.” She didn’t want to argue, just make tracks.
“Why?” he asked. “Why would it make you feel better, since we both know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Accident or not, it was my fault.” Oh, this argument was stupid.
He shook his head, tossed the suit onto a couch, cast a guilty glance at Gina and then out the window. “Maybe I should be honest with you.”
Gina cringed inwardly at the words. “You haven’t been?”
“Nope.”
“You’re not really a millionaire, is that it?” she said, though the joke fell flat and she already knew it was the truth.
“Nah, that’s not what I was talking about.” His blue eyes met hers with such an urgent honesty she nearly gasped. “I wanted an excuse to get you up here.”
“Oh?” She swallowed hard.
“The dry cleaning was just a ploy. I don’t give a damn about it.”
“And once you got me up here?” she asked, sweating a bit, her heart knocking. Was it her imagination or had the temperature in the suite just gone up about fifteen degrees?
“I just wanted to get you alone.”
Her heart began to jump now. “Why’s that?” she asked, but she saw the passion in his gaze.
“Because, darlin’, I think you’re the most interesting woman I’ve seen in a long, long time.”
“You…you don’t even know me.”
“But I’d like to.” His expression was sincere, but she warned herself not to believe him.
“I bet you say that to all the girls who pour wine on your clothes.”
His lips twitched. “You’re right. All of them.”
She felt an unlikely stab of disappointment.
“And all of them are right here.”
“Imagine that. All the klutzes in one suite. Gee, Mr. Remmington, how did you manage that?”
“I’d like to say it was skill, but it was probably just dumb luck.”
She giggled despite all her reservations. What was there about him she found so damned alluring? So sensual? Intriguing enough that she would cast downher natural defenses and throw all caution to the wind? She could rationalize from now until eternity, tell herself that it was because she “knew” him from everything she’d read and researched about the enigmatic bastard son of Larry Kincaid, but there was more to it than that. She was smitten with this stranger. Felt a bond with him he didn’t even know existed. She was a fool, that was it. And she had to leave now.
As if he’d read her mind, he said, “You could stay.”
Her heart nearly stopped. She was tempted, but no, she couldn’t.
“I don’t spend the night with strangers.”
“You could get to know me first.”
“I think, Mr. Remmington—”
“Trent.”
“Okay. I think, Trent, it would take more than a couple of hours to get to know you.”
“I can be very charming.”
“Oh, please. Good night.”
To her surprise and chagrin he didn’t try to stop her.
He lifted a shoulder. “Whatever you think’s best, Celia.”
That name again. Reminding her of her duplicity. “Just don’t tell me I’m missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime,” she said, scooping up the soiled suit, shirt and tie.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He didn’t so much as take a step closer to her. Again that ridiculous stab of disappointment. “Well, thanks for the drink, the conversation, and the champagne. I’ll see that these are delivered before you check out.”
“Thanks.”
Feeling suddenly silly, she started for the door, then crossed the room and stood in front of him. Still holding the bundle of clothes, she said, “It’s been interesting.”
“Amen.”
Impulsively
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