She ended up just changing clothes and shoving a packaged muffin into her mouth for breakfast. Her sister groused about being forced to do slave labor while Cara jetted off to hang out with Keith and then drank her coffee with a sulky pout. But by the time Cara was ready to leave, Meredith had a sewing kit in her hand.
Cara hid a smile. The reason her design business had grown so successful so fast was because she genuinely valued the place she’d created for herself—and the other girls in her employ. Meredith included. It was the best kind of pseudo-family because they’d all chosen to be in it.
“I’ll be back later,” Cara said and ducked back out into the rain, where she thoroughly squashed the little voice inside that was asking what in the hell she thought she was doing running off and leaving both her family and her responsibilities. And for what? To help Keith work?
Keith flashed a smile when he caught sight of her walking toward him in the lobby. Her borrowed flip-flops squeaked on the marble tile, but he didn’t even glance down. He kept his attention squarely on her face, and that killer smile lit up her insides. She sighed. Maybe her impulsive offer was a veiled attempt to hang out in Keith’s presence in hopes he’d give her a little more insight into his thoughts. There wasn’t a law against it.
She’d almost married him but hardly understood his basic motivations. It was far past time to change that.
He handed her an electronic tablet.
“What’s this?” She glanced at it. Holy cow, the screen displayed a fifty-item-long checklist.
“Each room has to pass with at least forty-eight of these, but none of the problems can be in the top ten.” Keith tapped the screen. “Only 100 percent in the top ten will do. As you inspect a room, enter the room number at the top and then use the stylus to hit the check box for each item.”
“This is very...involved.” It would take an hour to inspect one room. Maybe instead of running herself ragged doing a job she really didn’t have time for, she should just admit she wanted to get to know the Keith Mitchell from last night. Who he’d been. Who he was now. What he hoped for the future.
“Regent hired me to turn this resort around. Rooms were rated the lowest for the last five years on customer surveys.”
“You should have at least ten people doing this job if you plan to finish today.”
“That’s probably true. But I don’t trust anyone else to meet my high standards.”
Yet he trusted her. Her insides exploded with warmth and she was pathetically grateful to have signed up for this exhausting task. “Where should we start?”
He pointed upward, eyes on his own tablet as he tapped a few times. “This tower. We’ll go to the top floor and work our way down, you on one side of the hall, me on the other.”
Though she didn’t have a very clear picture of what she’d intended this morning’s activities to look like, that sounded like the exact opposite of it. “You mean we’re inspecting separately? I thought we’d do it together.”
The taps stopped abruptly and Keith’s gaze swung up to meet hers, the caramel in his eyes wickedly decadent. “You do realize we’re inspecting hotel rooms. Empty rooms. With beds. Right?”
Answering heat rose up in her middle, flushing outward. “Of course I realize that. Are you worried I’ll take advantage of you, sugar? I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
She so shouldn’t be flirting with him. It was dangerous and would give him the wrong idea. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure any longer what idea was the right one.
He chuckled and it rolled through her. “We’ll get this task completed much faster if you’re in a totally separate room, trust me.”
They worked on their respective rooms for an hour or two until Cara thought she could do the whole process in her sleep. Art on the walls. Check. Shower curtain present and accounted for. Check. Air conditioner operational. Check.
That one hurt. Every room so far had a functional air conditioner. By the twentieth room, she had a bone to pick with the man in charge around here. Plus, doing all of this alone was boring.
“What’s the deal, Mitchell?” she demanded as she poked her head into the last room she’d seen him disappear into. Not that she’d paid attention or anything.
Keith exited the bathroom, tablet in hand, and good gravy—the man exuded something she couldn’t tear her gaze from. He’d shed his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his button-down shirt, letting sinewy forearms speak to what the rest of his body looked like.
“The deal about what?” he asked.
Her mood veered into dangerous territory. Keith was not part of the plan. Wanting him was not part of the plan. Of course, the biggest problem was she had no plan. And confusion was not something she did well.
“All of these rooms have air conditioners. How come I’m staying in the one room on the whole property where it’s broken?”
“If I recall, you told me not to use that as an excuse to get you into my bed.” He crossed his arms, tucking the tablet under one. “I didn’t.”
“Move me to one of these rooms.” She mirrored his stance and leaned a shoulder against the door frame, prepared to be as obstinate as Keith until the cows came home. “This one looks good.”
“These rooms are all intended for expo guests. I can’t put them in the tower with the broken elevator.”
She scowled. “But it’s okay for the help to be in the other tower?”
His quick grin put a flutter in her tummy. And that was not cool.
“You won’t write an article about the elevator or lack of air-conditioning in a bridal magazine. I need the guests to be wowed. You will accomplish that with amazing wedding dresses. I will accomplish that by ensuring every last one of these rooms is up to par for the VIPs arriving tomorrow.”
Somehow she’d crossed the threshold and met Keith in the middle. “Your room is in this tower.”
“Yep.” He slid a sizzling once-over down the length of her body and the unspoken message was pretty clear—he would gladly share his room with her, but it was the only one available in this tower. And she’d already declined.
Without checking her strength, she poked a finger in the middle of his chest. “Stop being so logical.”
God, he was so tall when she wasn’t wearing heels. And the chest under her finger was hard with well-defined muscles she remembered well. It took an enormous amount of will to keep the pad of her finger in one place instead of tracing the plane of his torso south until she hit the six-pack abs he surely still had.
Why couldn’t she? He wouldn’t stop her. In fact, he would probably encourage it.
He glanced down at her finger. “Thought you were keeping your hands to yourself. Did you find something you wanted to touch bad enough to break your self-imposed rule?”
Just as she flexed to snatch back her hand, he captured her palm with his own, holding hers tight against his pectoral and yeah, it was still hard as stone. His heart thudded against her hand, speeding up as she glanced at his lips. They’d felt amazing when he kissed her, and it didn’t matter how hard she’d tried to forget, she couldn’t.
“It was more of a guideline than an actual rule. Also an example of you being too logical.” She should go back to the room she’d been inspecting. The checklist was only about half-complete and...
“Sure you want me to stop being logical?” he asked softly. “Logic has its benefits. For example, we’re in a hotel room where a newly married couple will eventually stay. It would be a shame if the bed didn’t hold up to a vigorous round of honeymoon sex. Logically, I should ensure this resort gets high marks on all aspects of Regent’s destination wedding services.”
“That’s very um...logical.” Apparently her brain had now completely deserted her. Because she definitely didn’t want to go anywhere and definitely didn’t think it was a good idea to stay.
He dipped his head, lips hovering near hers, then he turned slightly to murmur in her ear in a hot tease. “I’m glad you agree.”
His nose nuzzled her ear and through no fault of her own, her head swiveled, causing his lips to collide with her neck. She arched involuntarily at the pleasurable contact.
Never at a loss, he molded his mouth to her skin expertly, finding the perfect hollow to lave. It sent a shower of sparks along her throat, and she moaned.
Seeking fingers gripped her face and he guided her chin toward him. His mouth claimed hers, swallowing her moan, and when his arms snaked around her waist, he hefted her against his solid frame.
Her body ignited. He kissed her with tightly wound control but the hint of abandon was there, just below the surface. He’d let his control drop the moment she said so, and devoured her with carnal pleasure until she cried out under the onslaught.
Yes, this was definitely what she’d intended when volunteering for this Herculean task. One telling comment yesterday—I care about you—had possibly changed the course of their future.
She wanted to explore it, wanted to find that place she belonged, that place she’d thought she found with him two years ago. What might be possible now that hadn’t been back then? In the past few days, she felt as if she’d learned more about Keith than she had in the entire six months they’d been together before. She wanted more, wanted him.