I put my name and phone number in it before handing it back.
“Call me,” I said simply. “We’ll make plans. Dinner next time?”
“Dinner sounds good.”
I put my hand on the door handle and pulled it. The cab light winked on. “Then I’ll talk to you soon, I guess.”
Peter caught my arm when I went to slide out of the cab. He pulled me effortlessly across the seat until my hip bumped his. He let his hand move up from my shoulder to my neck, which he traced with delicate fingers to my jaw. He cupped my cheek and leaned in.
My heart fluttered and my breath hitched in my throat. I closed my eyes.
His lips grazed mine in the softest, most delicate kiss I’d ever had. It started slow and patient, like an ember catching a piece of tinder in a fire. It deepened, and I yielded to the press of his tongue. He tasted like the breath mints we’d taken from the little black tray back at the restaurant.
His hand on my cheek moved to the back of my neck and I turned to putty as he drew me in closer still. I pressed up firmly against his chest and it took every ounce of control I possessed not to climb into his lap and stick my tongue halfway down his throat.
He let out a soft sound, something between a moan and a sigh, before breaking the kiss and pulling away. “You have an early start tomorrow,” he breathed. His voice was strained. He didn’t want to stop.
Neither did I.
“I wish I didn’t,” I said.
He gave me one more kiss before releasing me. “You never should have given me your number.”
I giggled and stayed pressed up against him a little while longer. “And why is that?”
“I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to leave you alone.”
I woke on Wednesday morning to someone knocking on my suite door. I groaned, rolled over, and blinked at the clock on my nightstand.
It was six twenty-five.
My alarm would go off in five minutes, so I swung my legs over the side of the bed, turned the alarm off, and rubbed my eyes vigorously. Another knock sounded at the door.
“Coming!” I called.
I stood up and indulged in a stretch. A yawn took me, and my mouth was still half open when I made it to the door and opened it.
Nobody was there.
“What the hell?” I breathed.
I looked down, and at my feet, there was a cup of coffee and a little pastry bag. Stapled to the bag was a handwritten note on a torn piece of napkin.
I crouched down to get a closer look.
The coffee delivery was from Peter.
Good morning,
I’m sorry I kept you up so late last night. It was worth it for me but I imagine you might be a bit slow getting started today. So here’s a cup of coffee that, luckily, I’m too far away to spill on you.
Peter
I grinned like a damn idiot at the note and pulled it free from the staple. After bringing the delivery inside, I discovered a cinnamon brioche bun smothered in icing inside, and I enjoyed every damn bite of it while reading the note over and over again.
Where did this man come from, and how had I gotten lucky enough to be the one he treated like a bowling pin at the market? Falling on my ass had never been so rewarding.
I had a smile on my face all morning as I got ready for my workday. It was eight thirty when I left my room and made my way down to the lobby to meet Hop behind the coffee-shop counter. As usual, there were three coffees sitting on the bar top.
“Good morning, Katie,” Hop said in his deep Russian voice. He was the only cheerful Russian man I’d ever met. “There are rumors in the hotel that you were out late last night.”
“Oh?” I popped the lids onto the coffees.
“Gossip spreads in this place like it’s a commune. Just thought I’d give you a heads-up. Roman has already been out and about looking for you, claiming he wants the details before anyone else.”
“Of course. Well, he’ll be disappointed to know there are no details worth sharing.”
Hop eyed me suspiciously.
“What?” I asked.
He shrugged and began cleaning one of the steaming wands on the espresso machine. “I could be wrong, but if I were a guessing man, I’d guess you were lying.”