“So we have a deal?” Thad asked.

  “I’ll behave, but if she decides she wants me, then she’ll have me. The lady deserves to get what she wants.” Roarke hung up, picturing Thad growling before he likely threw his phone across the room. Roarke pocketed his cellphone, stepped back into the room and resumed his place on the bed farthest from the bathroom. When the door opened, he bit his lip to hide a smile.

  What the hell was Roarke Covington doing here? Shana stared at the closed bathroom door a long second before she let the towel drop to the floor so she could put her clothes on. She knew logically that he had explained why he was here—because of some bet he had lost and agreed to help Braden. But still…

  Roarke was the last person she expected to see. He wasn’t known for being that guy, the dependable friend. Hell, he wasn’t even Thad or Jared’s friend. He had gone to school with Thad, Jared and their friend Angelo at some fancy East Coast prep school, but he had never been a part of their crowd. He and Jared both ended up at Creighton Law, where Shana had met Jared and fallen hard for him. But Roarke had always been there, lurking in the background like some dark prince in a twisted fairytale. He was a bad boy. Every girl knew the type. The one who could melt your panties with a smile one minute and break your heart in the next.

  That was the very last kind of guy she needed to be around, because bad boys were her weakness. Jared had been too sweet; it was one of the reasons they had never worked as a couple. They got together, broke up and got together again, but there was always something missing. It had pissed off her father that she had broken up with Jared that final time and had stayed broken up. Now Jared was married to a great girl, Felicity, a museum curator, and they had the most adorable baby in the world. Maybe other people thought it was weird, but Shana and Jared were still good friends, and now she and Felicity were friends, Shana had somehow become Aunt Shana to their little baby, Hayley.

  Life was good. Mostly.

  Her father was still pressuring her to step up and take over his real estate book of clients. She didn’t want that life, but she didn’t see much of a way out unless she left her father’s firm. Doing that would be like divorcing herself from her family, even though it wasn’t much of a family.

  She was lonely. She’d never been comfortable with casual sex, at least not on a regular basis, so she was alone more often than not. Okay, she was alone a lot. Sometimes she truly enjoyed being free of the worries and responsibilities that came with a relationship. She learned a lot about herself, about who she was and what she wanted in her life now. She also wanted to share it with someone.

  But finding someone who liked her for who she was, not for her paycheck, or who her family was, wasn’t easy. Her long work hours and her own lack of self-confidence didn’t help her romantic chances. She wished she could just let go of her worries, fling open the bathroom door, shove Roarke onto the bed, climb up his body and lose herself in him and the pleasure of sleeping with him.

  He offered the delicious bad boy temptation that few women could resist. A woman knew a man like him would be so good in bed. But it was what might happen afterward that worried her. She couldn’t just bang him and then go on about her day, no matter how much she wished she could.

  Her cellphone, which lay on the bathroom counter, vibrated. She quickly answered and heard Jared’s voice.

  “You okay? I heard you’re currently sharing a room with Prick McGee.”

  She snorted a little laugh. Prick McGee was Jared’s nickname for Roarke.

  “I’m fine. He’s been nice. He was as shocked as I was.”

  “Well, don’t worry, we’ll get you a separate room immediately. Just keep your distance from him.”

  For some reason, Shana resented Jared’s fatherly tone. They’d almost been engaged once, and now he was treating her like a misbehaving child.

  “I’ll be fine,” she repeated.

  “Good. You don’t need to spend time around guys like Roarke. They have only one goal, and you’re too good for a guy like that.”

  Too good. Yeah, that was the problem. He treated her like she was perfect, like she wanted to be perfect. Shana wanted to be bad. She wanted to misbehave and sleep with the sexy bad boys. She didn’t want to be so…restrained.

  “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later. Tell Felicity and Hayley I said hi.” Then she hung up on Jared.

  A moment later her cellphone screen flashed with a text from Jared’s wife.

  Felicity: Heard you are rooming with Roarke. He’s soooo hot. Don’t waste a night with that body of his. 😉 P.S. I want details later!

  The emoji of a winky face made Shana smile. This was why she and Felicity were friends. Felicity understood her more than anyone else in her life right now. Felicity was smart, funny, and hardworking, all the things that Shana valued in a friend. It didn’t matter about her past with Jared; Felicity wasn’t jealous or worried. She knew that she and her daughter were Jared’s whole world. That fact gave Felicity the confidence to see Shana as a friend, not competition.

  Shana let out a sigh as she knew she couldn’t put off facing Roarke any longer. She opened the door and found him lounging on the bed farthest from her and the bathroom, idly flipping through the channels on the TV. He wore dark slacks and a pale cream sweater that hugged his broad shoulders and hung a little looser around his trim waist. The man was gorgeous. She’d never been able to deny that. He had dark brown hair that had russet undercurrents in the sunlight, and his eyes were warm brown that were quick to heat with mischief. He was her deep, dark fantasy, one she’d been too afraid to think about.

  He shut off the TV when he noticed her.

  “Bad news… There are no other rooms available in the whole town.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  His sensual lips curved into a devil-may-care grin.

  “I wish I was. They said something about a Christmas festival meaning all the other places, even the lowliest of motel kind of places are completely booked up for the next few days,” Roarke said.

  “So what you’re saying is…”

  “You’ve got a roommate.” He winked at her. “And I promise I don’t snore.”

  “What?” She stared at him blankly. “You can’t be serious—”

  “Afraid so, honey. You’re stuck with me.”

  He stood up and came toward her, and she was all too aware of how tall he was. She wasn’t short at five foot seven, but next to Roarke she felt delicate and feminine.

  “Roomie?” He held out his hand.

  She reluctantly took it. A flash of heat sizzled between their hands.

  “Roomie,” she echoed. She had a sense that the next few days were going to test her willpower in ways she’d never been tested before.

  “Care to grab a meal while we wait for the others to arrive?”

  “Sure.” She could use the distraction. The less time she spent near Roarke and a bed would be good. But the smug grin on his face made her suspect he was thinking the same thing. That made her skin flush with heat.

  Oh, yeah ... This is going to be a huge problem.

  2

  The look on Shana’s face when he had told her she had a roommate was priceless. He wasn’t lying though. The hotel front desk had called him seconds before she’d emerged from the bathroom. Apparently between the looming bad weather and the Christmas festivities, the little village was completely booked up.

  Shana gathered her purse and coat. She wore a pair of black, slim-fitting trousers and a cozy, pale blue sweater with weather boots. She had smartly assumed they would be going out for their meal. She’d dried her hair and pulled it up into a long blonde ponytail, and Roarke had the sudden image of grabbing her ponytail and winding her hair around his fist while he kissed her hard. He wanted to do that, bad. She glanced his way and thankfully couldn’t read any of his thoughts, or she would’ve slapped him.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as they exited the room and headed for the elevator.

  “I was thinking La Bagatelle. It’s in another hotel, the Hôtel Le Grand Chalet. The front desk will be able to call a cab for us.”

  As they stepped into the elevator, there were quite a few other people inside. Roarke placed his hands on Shana’s shoulders and gently drew her back a few steps to make room for other people. It put her body flush against his, and he could smell a soft vanilla scent drift up from her hair. He leaned forward slightly and drew in a deep breath. She smelled fantastic, and the pleasure of her scent went straight to his groin. He had to remind himself there were other people present, which kept him on his best behavior.

  He kept his hands on her shoulders the rest of the ride down to the first floor, and as they stepped off he placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her in front of him. She didn’t pull away, and something about that made him smile. Who knew what would happen if he got Shana away from her overprotective white knights? She might actually like him. He loved to play the asshole who riled up her friends, but he only did that to get a laugh. With Shana, she’d get the real him, not false bravado, no bullshit, just him.

  He helped her into the back of the taxi. The driver navigated the snowy streets carefully before stopping in front of the hotel. It sat at the base of another scenic mountain, even bigger than the one their hotel was nestled beneath. In the darkness of the snow and trees, the golden glowing lights of the chalet were beckoning with their warmth.

  “This place is beautiful,” Shana murmured. They climbed the steps to be greeted by a doorman who graciously ushered them inside. They checked their coats at a coat check and then looked around for the restaurant.

  “In the summer, they have terrace seating that faces the mountain,” Roarke said. “I wish we could be here to see that.”

  “Me too… I imagine it’s all green hills,” she sighed. “It makes me think of The Sound of Music even though I know that was Austria, not Switzerland.”

  “The hills are alive,” Roarke snorted. “Those lyrics gave me nightmares as a kid.”

  Shana laughed, the sound utterly adorable. “They did not,” she insisted.

  “The hills are alive. Alive,” he reiterated and ran his fingertips up her spine, teasing her through the thin cashmere sweater she wore. She jerked and squealed, clearly ticklish. She whirled on him, her face flushed red.

  “Oh my God, don’t do that!” she hissed. But she was still laughing and completely embarrassed.

  “What? Touch you or tickle you?” He emphasized the difference by running his fingers up her spine again. This time, she bumped into him the way a woman does when she’s flirting.

  “Both.” She was frowning as she said that, but Roarke had her number now. She liked being touched and tickled.

  He raised his hands in mock surrender, and she rolled her eyes.

  The restaurant in the chalet was cozy and inviting, with warm wood-paneled ceilings and cream-colored walls. A fireplace in the center of the restaurant was lit with real logs which crackled as they burned. A pair of antique swords crossed over one side of the fireplace mantle, while potted plants covered the low wall separating various parts of the dining room. It felt woodsy and rustic despite the fact that almost everyone in the restaurant was dressed as though they were out for night at the Ritz or the Waldorf-Astoria. The waiter led them to a private table by a window so they could look out at the snowy night. Swirls of glittering snowflakes danced playfully and bounced off the glass, which was frosted at the edges.

  “Wow, this place is just incredible...” Shana blushed as the waiter pushed her chair in as she sat down. Roarke took the seat across from her.

  “It is, isn’t it? Makes me want to get over to Europe more often.”

  “Or ever,” she added. She ducked her head as though embarrassed.

  “Wait...” He gaped at her. “Is this your first time in Europe?”

  “How pathetic would it be if I admitted that?” she asked in a soft voice. Her face was suddenly reflected a shy mortification. He felt bad for teasing her.

  “It’s not pathetic at all,” he assured in a tone that matched hers. “I just assumed that your family traveled a lot.”

  She shook her head. “No, my family doesn’t. We stay in Chicago, and we work. All the time. At least, my dad and I do.” There was a barely concealed sorrow tinged with bitterness in her words.

  Roarke frowned, but held his tongue. He wanted to tell her that was bullshit, that she didn’t have to work all the time and if she wanted to explore the world, she had a right to.

  “I’m only here because no one else could take Braden’s spot but me. Everyone else had cases and court appearances they couldn’t reschedule. Jared would’ve come, but he’s really put his foot down when it comes to my father and his workplace demands.”

  “Not like you,” Roarke guessed. He’d heard tales from Jared and Thad about how rude and judgmental her father was. She was told all the time she was never smart enough, never good enough, never fast enough, never billed enough. That kind of subtle abuse could cause serious damage.

  “No, not like me.” Shana did meet his gaze. She looked instead out the window at the dark snowy night. “Wow, we just jumped straight into the heavy stuff, didn’t we?” She gave a little shrug of her shoulders as if she was ready to dislodge the weight off them. “I almost wish you just tried to sleep with me. That I can handle.” She chuckled but still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  Roarke reached across the table and gently turned her chin so she faced him.

  “I would very much like to sleep with you, Shana, anytime and anyplace. But don’t hide from me. I’m not Jared, Thad or Angelo. I’m not ever going to put you on a pedestal or be disappointed when you show any vulnerability.” He smiled. “Besides, people have a habit of falling off pedestals.”

  Her lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “Are you saying you don’t like perfect women?”

  Roarke rolled his eyes. “Perfection is overrated and boring. Give me a real woman with flaws any day. I would never want to hold a woman to those impossible standards. I want her to be herself.”

  At his words, her eyes fixed on him over the top of her menu, and he didn’t quite understand the expression in her gaze, but he didn’t look away. He meant what he’d said.

  After a moment, her eyes softened and the intensity of her assessing him faded as she relaxed and smiled. The expression nearly knocked his heart out of his chest. It lit her entire face up.

  “What are your flaws?” she asked him with a hint of teasing in her lovely eyes. His stomach did a funny little flip.

  “Arrogance, of course. When you look as good as me—”

  She threw her napkin at him and laughed. “Seriously, Roarke.”

  Chuckling, he tossed the cloth napkin back at her.

  “I have a terrible habit of wanting things that are too good for me. Things I don’t deserve.” As he said this, he met her eyes—and he knew the second she understood what he was telling her. She was the thing he wanted that he didn’t deserve.

  “I think we should order food before that poor waiter panics.” Shana discreetly nodded her head at the young man hovering a short distance away, his eyes anxiously fixed on their table.

  “All right, you’re no fun.” Roarke grumbled as he signaled the waiter over.

  “What would you like to order?” the man asked them.

  “Can I have the wild shrimp scampi from South Africa sautéed in garlic and parsley butter?” When she noticed Roarke watching her with a bemused expression, she shrugged. “I love shrimp scampi and I rarely get to eat it.”

  “You won’t get any judgment from me, babe. Eat whatever you want. The whole point of eating is to enjoy the experience.” He winked at her and she smiled, even though her face reddened a little.

  The waiter scribbled down Shana’s order. “And for you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the sweet bread oxtail raviolis with mushrooms.”

  “And for your main courses?”

  Shana scanned the menu again. “Crispy roasted chicken breast with rosemary.”

  “And I’ll have the saddle of lamb,” Roarke added. “Shana, would you like any wine?”

  “If you’re having some…” she began.

  Roarke turned to the waiter. “I’d like a Sauvignon Blanc, whatever you recommend.”

  “I’d like a rosé, whatever you recommend as well.”

  “Of course.” The waiter made another note on his pad, then collected the menus and left them alone.

  “So should we talk about the meeting tomorrow? What will we say and how will we pitch the purchase offer?” Shana seemed determined to focus on business. It was far less personal and no doubt felt safer for her.

  Roarke took a sip of his water and then sighed. “Business it is.”

  For the rest of the meal, they went back and forth on the various points of Thad’s deal memo. Roarke was pleased to see Shana had researched the deal as though she’d been preparing for months rather than twenty-four hours. He had known she was incredibly quick, but if he was being honest, she was even quicker than him. He would have to remember that if he ever faced off against her in negotiations. Roarke had always liked smart women, and if they were smarter than him, all the better. Lots of men dated women that they considered less intelligent than themselves or who had less impressive jobs, because it gave the fragile egos of those men a boost. A real man, in his opinion, earned the love and respect of a smart, hard-working woman instead. That said a hell of a lot more about what kind of man someone was.

  The food was exquisite, as he hoped it would be, and he was glad to see Shana was enjoying it too. He had the strongest urge to pamper her. Roarke didn’t like her Machiavellian father. Now, he was peeling away layers away of emotional abuse the man had heaped on his daughter, and he hated him even more than he originally had. Shana wasn’t a complainer, but every now and then when she spoke, little things slipped out that hinted at her unhappiness and her isolation. It was something he was all too familiar with himself. His own father and mother were East Coast blueblood snobs of the worst kind. He had done much to escape the life they had planned for him. But he wasn’t happy, he wasn’t fulfilled, the way he expected to feel—and it surprised him to feel a bond with Shana over that.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9