Tall, Dark And Daring. Joanne Rock
into a business dynamo. “Then I guess I’ll show you to your room and let you go to work.”
He ushered her out of his office and toward the elevator. He didn’t need to ask which room she was in. He’d chosen it himself. Number 326, the executive suite.
She shuffled a few of the papers under her arm. “I’ll have at least a portion of this mapped out by dinner. Shall we meet in the hotel restaurant?”
Mitch followed the progress of her stocking-clad ankles as she stepped on to the elevator. “How about we head over to MacRae’s?” he suggested, dropping the name of their favorite restaurant as he punched number three.
Frowning, she cinched the belt around her coat a little tighter. “I don’t know, Mitch. I—”
“They still fry up a mean lake trout.” His mind conjured a wayward image of Tessa in her tan trench coat with nothing on underneath it but high heels. He really shouldn’t torture himself like this.
“You should have gone into my field, Mitch,” she muttered as the elevator doors swished open. “Which way?”
He pointed down the hall. “I’ll take that as a yes?”
She didn’t say anything as she paused in front of her door and slid the key into the lock. When the green light appeared, she pushed her way inside then turned to face him. She stood there a moment, poised in the entry, propping the door open with her hip. “Yes.”
The word hit him with the force of a mogul at high speed—jolting his whole body and launching him through the air. God, but she packed a provocative punch.
She looked at him, her breathing a little fast, her cheeks tinged with color. Right then, Mitch knew he wasn’t the only one who had mentally replayed every moment of their time together in the years since they’d seen each other.
He would have kissed her if he didn’t think she might turn around and hop the first plane back to Miami.
But maybe she’d relax around him after they tied up their business.
“Meet you in the lobby around seven?”
She nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Backing away, he opted for a quick retreat before he did something stupid, like tug on the ties of that trench coat until it fell to her feet.
The door swung shut between them, but it didn’t stop him from envisioning her every move behind it. Would she have that coat off yet?
Mitch hoped Tessa was every inch the marketing genius she was reputed to be, because the quicker they dispensed with the business portion of her trip, the faster he could get her back to that love seat in his office to relive a few fond memories.
2
HE’D KEPT the love seat.
No matter how much she tried to concentrate on developing a marketing plan, that one thought kept recurring in her brain.
Tessa paced the suite bedroom in her towel as she read over Mitch’s file for the third time since her bubble bath.
Why had he moved the love seat into his offices? Didn’t he remember what they had shared on that glorified pine bench? Or worse, what if he did?
Berating herself for her lack of focus, she planned her strictly business approach to tonight’s meeting. She could do this. She had to.
If she could keep things professional between them for one week, she’d fulfill the dare and she’d be free and clear of Mitch, of Lake Placid, of her marketing job. She could start fresh with her sedate life next Monday, go online with her small clothing venture and forget this entire mishap.
Forget Mitch?
She tossed the file on the dresser and turned to the wrinkled clothing selections in her suitcase. Why had she ever agreed to spend the last week of her job in Lake Placid?
As she combed out her damp hair, Tessa noticed her watch read six-thirty. She had just enough time to rest her eyes before her appointment with Mitch at seven. She deserved a few minutes of downtime after her ten-hour trek to the Adirondacks and three-hour cramming session to develop Mitch’s marketing plan. She’d been running on too little sleep all weekend.
Flinging aside her towel, Tessa slid between the taut sheets of the hotel bed and smiled. She snuggled into the embrace of flannel blankets and down pillows and tried not to think how much better her free time would be spent right now if she had a gorgeous man to massage her feet. A gorgeous man with gray eyes and the power to steal her breath.
Tessa squeezed her eyes closed more tightly, hoping to will away images of Mitch. Still, the tickle of cool sheets against her bare skin sent her mind on a vivid replay of this afternoon’s meeting. Especially the first few minutes when he’d been soaking wet and half naked. All those hours on the slopes had given him a washboard stomach and thighs like iron.
If memory served—and she knew darn well it did—the rest of him was equally impressive.
Of course she shouldn’t be visualizing her client in the buff. She wouldn’t get involved with an adrenaline addict again, not when she’d promised herself she would embark on a new era in her life starting with her business venture next week.
She’d been so hung up on Mitch after she left Lake Placid the first time, she’d ended up married to a man eerily similar to him two years afterward. Her husband had seemed like a reserved man with a quiet banking job, but he’d sought his thrills in the stock market. He’d bankrupted himself, filched Tessa’s credit card and run off with a wealthy figure skater before Tessa knew what hit her.
Too bad things hadn’t worked out with fiancé number two. Rob had seemed so safe. So rooted.
So colorless compared to Mitch.
Yawning, she pulled the bedside clock radio on to her pillow and turned up the volume to prevent herself from sleeping. Why did she have to be attracted to such reckless men?
Oh, well. None of that mattered right now while she snuggled in the nest of blankets. She didn’t have enough time to nap, and the dreamy love song on the radio defeated the purpose of music in her ear, so she spun the dial until she found a polka station and cranked the volume to full blast.
No way would she sleep now.
Or so she thought until she lost herself in sensual dreams. She could feel the heat of Mitch’s hands upon her body, breathe the scent of his skin. They lay entwined on the old love seat in the library, their bodies a tangle of hungry limbs. The back of the love seat knocked a seductive rhythm against the wall.
Knock. Knock.
The sound transmuted, mingling with strains of Lawrence Welk.
“Tessa!” Mitch called her name. Too bad the hoarse cry sounded more like a shout of worry than one of ecstasy.
Knock. Knock.
“Tessa!” The object of her dreams shouted to her in time with an accordion riff blaring in her head.
She tried to blink her way out of her dream.
The door to her bedroom flew open. Mitch and a middle-aged woman in a maid’s uniform burst into her room.
“Are you all right?” Mitch’s brow creased in worry. He seated himself beside her and gently shook her bare shoulder. He flipped off the accordion. “The room next door complained about the noise. Sorry about busting in here, but I got worried when you didn’t answer the phone.”
A shiver tripped through Tessa at his touch. Her dreams were still too close to the surface for her to hide her reaction to him.
The little maid peeked around Mitch, biting her lip. “She looks okay. Perhaps she was only tired.”
“Thank God.” His gaze pierced Tessa so deeply she feared he could read her recent wanton thoughts. She