Read Online Need You Now (1001 Dark Nights) by Lisa Renée Jones - Free Book Online Page B

limo.
    “Starving, actually.”
    “It’s a short drive to the hotel. I’d like to grab drinks and food in the bar and talk through some things.”
    I give a nod, replaying his words in my head. Talk through some things. I don’t begin to know what that means, but I’m worried. Confused. Unsure what his intent is where I’m concerned.
    “Have you ever actually been to this location?” he asks.
    “No. That’s exactly why I didn’t think I was qualified for this.”
    “Actually it makes you more qualified. I don’t want them to be on guard. I want us to act like regular customers. We’ll make some special requests and see how they handle it all. Before we leave, we’ll meet with the management staff.”
    His cell phone rings, and unbidden, I am back in his hotel room pressed against the wall, with his mouth in intimate, wonderful places. I cut my gaze, fearful he’ll read my expression when he’s just warned me an hour before we aren’t happening. Reaching for my purse, I find my phone, and I don’t know why, but I have that same gut-wrenching feeling I’d had right before I’d left his room. It makes no sense. I know he’s not married. I know he’s not trying to use me. He’s been too frank about everything for that. Or is he playing games with me? Would he do that?
    Shaking off the concern until I am alone in my room and can dissect this day, I search my phone for a message from Katie, but don’t find one. Worried, I text her again. Once done, I refuse to look at Jensen, busying myself by checking more e-mail on my phone but distracted by the warm, masculine baritone of Jensen’s voice as he talks stock numbers with his caller.
    “Let me call you back,” he says to whoever he’s speaking with, clearly not waiting for a reply. He ends the call, drawing my attention as he sets his phone and his iPad on the seat and fixes those piercing green eyes on me. “What are you thinking?”
    I don’t bother to answer his question. My mother tells me I’m an open book that needs to be shut all the time. “Why are you asking that?”
    “You wouldn’t look at me until I gave you no choice.”
    “I was busy.”
    “You were thinking of something I don’t want you thinking. What was it?”
    My brow furrows. “Nothing I’m willing to tell you.”
    Surprise flickers across his expression. “That’s not what I expected.”
    I shrug. “Sorry, but some things aren’t meant to be shared before they’re cultivated with a little class and careful consideration.”
    “Fair enough, but I’ll ask again. Maybe after a drink, you’ll change your mind.”
    “Unless it’s tequila, it’s doubtful.”
    “I seem to remember you drinking tequila last night.”
    “Exactly.”
    “Tequila it is then,” he declares, giving me a wink as that damn phone of his rings again while my phone remains silent.
     
    * * * *
     
    We are registered for our rooms by efficient and friendly staff, but I’m blown away by the room choices, both of which turn out to be side-by-side, first floor beachside suites with patios. “I didn’t need a room that big or fancy,” I say as we head into the dimly lit combination bar and restaurant and claim a booth.
    “We’ll have the manager comp our rooms in the morning,” he tells me as we settle into our seats facing each other. “So enjoy it. But the very fact that the suites were available to be comped is a problem. This is prime real estate. They should be booked.”
    The waitress arrives at the table. “Tequila later,” he says. “I need to pick your brain first. Do you drink wine?”
    “I like wine, yes.”
    “Red? White?”
    “Red.”
    He gives the menu a quick perusal and orders a bottle of something I expect is very expensive. We debate an appetizer and settle on cheese sticks. The waitress leaves and he pulls a file from his briefcase. “I have a list of the properties and the management teams for each. Meredith tells me you have regular interaction with the