met, and she bit his lower lip gently. Connor caressed one of her breasts through the thin summer material. She responded with a leg over his.
It was insane, how he simultaneously felt like he already knew every inch of her and how she was still a mystery every time. Connor wiped a stray lock of her hair from her cheek and held her jaw in his hand.
He needed her immensely. As he reached under her dress to pull down her underwear, she moaned in pleasure—and that seemed to break the spell. Sam’s eyes shot open as she froze. She looked at him like she’d just woken up and found him assaulting her.
She pushed back, eyes big. “What…”
Fuck. He didn’t know what to say or what to do. Frustrated and angry at her, at himself, he got up silently and threw himself on the couch. Somehow, on that little velvet settee with his back to her, he forced sleep upon himself after what seemed like hours.
The last thing he remembered was listening to her running the shower in the bathroom.
29
Sam
When Sam woke up, Connor was nowhere to be found. She eased her head up from the pillow and looked around the suite. Flower petals were everywhere, and the expensive bottle of champagne’s label was peeling in the bucket of melted ice. She spotted a note left on the nightstand.
Out golfing. That’s all it said.
She let out a breath. Good. After what had happened last night, and her stupid mistake thanks to the champagne, she was grateful that he was gone.
Her hair was still slightly damp from the late night shower. Somehow, she’d managed to get a good night’s sleep. Sam blamed the champagne and the sheer exhaustion of putting on a show for a room full of strangers all night.
She pulled on a pair of light denim shorts and a loose floral blouse that fell off of one shoulder. As she slid on her gold strappy sandals, she gazed into the mirror. It was one of those rare occasions when her naturally wavy hair had behaved perfectly. It looked like she’d spent hours at the salon. With just a swipe of rosy lip gloss and a touch of mascara, she grabbed her sunglasses and headed to the breakfast area.
Sam didn’t recognize anyone, and glanced at her phone. Eight o’clock. She supposed it might still be a little early for some people.
The waiter rushed to her little table on the patio. Sam ordered a latte and an English scone. The thick white linen tablecloth and fresh flower arrangement was, admittedly, lovely. She tried to take it all in while she could. Checkout was in the afternoon. When her latte arrived alongside the little currant scone, she smiled at the idyll heart made with the milk.
“A beautiful girl should never eat breakfast alone.”
Sam jumped at the voice and looked up. It was Connor’s father, looking surprisingly disheveled without his usual suit and tie. Instead, he wore long gray shorts and a short-sleeved Tommy Bahama-style shirt. It looked fake, like he was an actor playing a role. And not very well.
“Mr. Harris! You startled me,” she said.
She couldn’t read his eyes behind the mirrored sunglasses, but had the suspicion he angled to see down her shirt. He made no reply.
“Um, would you like to join me?” she asked. Suddenly, she wished Connor was there. Anyone except his sleazy father.
“Connor hasn’t accompanied you?” he asked. He looked around the empty restaurant.
“No, he, uh… he scheduled a morning golf game. With some of his cousins, I think.”
“Huh,” his father said as he sat down uncomfortably close to her. “I thought that boy hated golf. Well,” he said as he removed his sunglasses. “Maybe his tastes have improved as he’s matured.” When he said it, he looked blatantly at her thighs.
She wanted desperately to make her shorts longer, but resisted the urge to tug at them. The waiter appeared with a black coffee and slice of frosted lemon bread. He hadn’t even had to ask. Instead, she toyed with the massive engagement ring she’d at least had the sense to put on that morning.
His father watched her, appraised her, and bit into the sweet slice of bread. She watched crumbs as they gathered at the corners of his mouth and fell into his lap. “You’re different than what Connor’s slinked around with before,” he said.
“Oh?” She daintily sipped her latte and tried not to make any more eye contact than was necessary.
“Oh, yes. Trust me, I know.