"Yeah, yeah, I remember saying that," he laughed. "And, I've been wondering. Aren't you afraid that my reputation is going to ruin your reputation?"
I backed towards the corner of the elevator as he slid closer. His gaze was locked on my lips and I licked them nervously. "Maybe they cancel each other out and we can just be regular people," I countered.
His eyes softened and he stopped looming over me. I missed the heat of his body like the sun going behind a cloud. Then, he reached for my hand.
"I'd like that, Kya. Now that would be something no other agent has ever given me," Fenton said.
The doors opened and the maitre d' ruined the effects of my statement. He bowed low and welcomed us to the Eiffel Tower. He seated us right away at a special table with a view of the Bellagio Fountain. Heads turned as we took our seats.
"Being regular for the night might be a tall order," I said. I gestured out the window to where a neon billboard almost a story high showed Fenton in action.
He turned away from the window and concentrated on me. "It's at least worth a shot. What do regular people talk about on dates?"
"Work?" I asked.
He laughed, and again my stomach quivered. I loved hearing him laugh. The head waiter explained that we did not need menus; the chef had prepared a special meal. Then, the sommelier approached and poured the right wine to match our first course.
After all the flourishes were finished and we had taken a few long sips, Fenton smiled again. "Alright, tell me about work. But not like you're an agent trying to sign me. What would you tell a date?"
I touched my thumb to the small, comma-shaped beauty mark near my mouth, a sure tell that I was nervous. "It's a been awhile since I went on a date. I guess most men want to know how I got into my profession."
Fenton leaned his forearms on the table. "What I want to know is how you ended up working for James Cort. I asked my manager about him and he just laughed. They seem to be cut from the same slimy cloth."
"I ran into him at a country club," I said.
"You're joking."
I laughed. "No, it’s true. I was on a road trip and needed to go to the bathroom. The nearest place I could find was this country club, so I sneaked in and used the facilities. When I came out, security was looking for me. James snagged my arm and introduced me to the golf pro. I must have charmed him because James left there with a new client, and I left with a new job."
"What kind of car were you driving?" Fenton asked.
In my mind, I could see the rust flaking off the door and smiled. "An 80s Thunderbird. The two-door kind. Big long heavy doors that tended to sag on the hinges when it was as rusted as mine."
"A sweet sixteen present?"
"No," I said. "I bought it myself just after high school. I needed something to get me to college."
"Ah, yes, the Ivy League." Fenton leaned back in his seat.
"University of Chicago," I said. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear."
He smiled. "How many prospective clients get to hear that?"
"None." I sipped my wine and felt warm. Talking with Fenton was easy – no patter, no holding up false impressions.
He rolled up his sleeves and fixed his eyes on the candle between us. "Then I suppose it’s only fair I tell you something true."
"About your reputation?" I asked.
He nodded, his look faraway. "I hit that cop. He'd arrested my sister."
The warmth inside me spread. I raised my glass to Fenton. "Here's to the half truths that make us regular people."
His smile returned and made me dizzy all throughout the meal. When we were finally walking down the Strip later that evening, it did not feel at all strange to be arm in arm – just like it felt natural for him to walk me back to my room at the Tropicana. And then, it was only right that I invite him in for a nightcap.
As soon as the door closed behind us, he kissed me. I lost track of time – my only anchor in the universe was his lips. I rose up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. He lifted me clear off the ground, the delicious heat of our bodies flushed together taking me even higher.
We pressed and tangled, the iron bands of his arms holding me as close as possible. I wanted to be closer. The thinness of my dress, that had worried me all night, was suddenly too much of a barrier. Fenton held me aloft so easily, as I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer.
He groaned, stumbling back into the center of my small room. His hands were in my hair, our mouths locked in a deep give and take. I felt as if breaking away from his lips for even a moment would make me spin away into the desert sky. He seemed to hear my thoughts and laid me down on the bed, his weight on top of me a welcome pressure.
"Wait, no," I protested. "Not like this."
"Kya, please," Fenton said.
I wanted to give in. I wanted it more than anything, but I could not. I thought I was wining and dining him, but here Fenton Morris was in my room, on my bed, on me. I was being seduced, and that would ruin everything.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Fenton
I felt the honey softness go out of her limbs as Kya pushed against my chest. I turned on my side and trailed a hand down her dress. My God, that purple dress with a low neckline that almost didn't stop.
"Not like this," she protested.
I wanted her so badly it didn't feel wrong to beg. "Kya, please."
She shook her head, and I was surprised her springy, copper-blonde curls were as soft as silk. They defied gravity without being wiry or sprayed stiff. It was almost cruel how desirable she was.
She sat up, those silken curls brushing against her bare shoulders. The sleeveless dress plunged lower in the back than in the front and I traced a finger along its thin border. A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine. I would do more than beg to have her.
She had hypnotized me the entire evening. Where I normally clocked every attractive woman in the room, I could not even remember what the interior of the restaurant looked like. Kya had me from the second I saw her worried smile. Then, she locked me in with the hint of jealousy when she asked about Talia.
Deep down, I knew I would probably never get Kya out of my system, but there was only one way to find out. I propped myself up on one arm and nuzzled her neck. She shook her head and moved to stand up. I snaked one arm around her waist and kept her in place easily.
"Fenton, please, let go of me," she said.
The hint of panic in her voice sluiced over me like a bucket of ice water. It was true – I could force her. I was strong enough that Kya was defenseless – except for that one tiny hitch in her voice. It undid me. I let her go as if she had stung me.
"Thank you," she said. Instead of standing up and getting out of my reach, she stayed on the edge of the bed and turned towards me. "If I did not know you better, I would think you were trying to seduce me."
"And, what would be so terrible about that?" I asked.
"Seduction always means one party is less willing than the other. I want to be on even footing with you."
She reached for my hand on the bedspread, but I pulled it away. "Well, let me know when you catch up."
I stood up and tucked my shirt back into my pants. She sprang up from the end of the bed and marched over to the mirror to straighten her clothes. Her lips were pursed and her cheeks were bright, so I reached for the door.