Designed by Desire. Pamela Yaye
him, and that felt damn good. “Enjoy the rest of your night,” she said, faking a smile.
Evangeline stroked Collin’s chest with one hand and waved absently with the other. “Don’t worry, mon cherie—we will.”
“Brianna, hold up,” Collin said. “Wait! Don’t go!”
His pleas fell on deaf ears. Without another word, Brianna strode out of Bar 8 and into the lobby of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. Sorry she’d wasted her time with Collin, she chided herself for spending the past three hours laughing and flirting with another woman’s man. Contrary to what he’d told her, it was obvious he was screwing Evangeline and that everything he’d told her about his relationship with the pop star was a lie. Collin was a player, a man who got off on seducing women, and Brianna was glad she’d found out the truth about him before it was too late.
Before she did something stupid like sleep with him.
Collin was a jerk, a guy with no conscience, and Brianna hoped to God she never saw his lying, cheating face again.
But long after Brianna boarded the private elevator and returned to her suite, the guy at the bar with the soulful voice and the dreamy, deep-brown eyes was still heavy on her mind.
Chapter 3
“Bonjour, Monsieur Childs,” greeted the silver-haired hotel manager standing at the reception desk. “You’re looking hale and hearty this morning and, might I add, quite sharp in that tan sports coat.”
Collin returned the manager’s smile. Leaning forward, he stole a quick glance over his shoulder. No one was standing behind him, and the female clerks at the front desk were busy with customers, but Collin still lowered his voice to a whisper. “I met a young woman at Bar 8 last night, and I’d like to know if she’s staying here at Mandarin Oriental.”
The manager gasped and shook his head. Seconds passed before he spoke, and when he did his tone was filled with alarm. “Monsieur Childs, I’m afraid I simply cannot disclose that information. It’s against hotel policy.” He wore a wry smile that made him look decades younger. “But I don’t have to tell you that. Childs International Hotels is one of the most celebrated hotels in the world, and the Childs Corporation prides itself on providing world-class service and discretion.”
Collin winced. He felt like a kid who’d just been scolded by his teacher, and when the hotel manager shot him a pointed look, Collin stared down at his Italian loafers. What he was asking the hotel manager to do was not only unethical, but also completely out of character.
He didn’t pursue females—he didn’t need to. Women were constantly throwing themselves at him, always ready, willing and eager to dive into his bed and his bank account. It was easy for Collin to sniff out a gold digger, and the attractive fashion designer he’d spent hours talking to last night at Bar 8 certainly didn’t fit the bill. That’s why he didn’t mind breaking a rule or two, or three, to track her down.
“I’m not asking you for Brianna’s suite number, or even her last name, so technically you’re not breaking the rules,” he said with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “Just think of this as a favor to a trustworthy guest who’ll forever be indebted to you for your kindness.”
Collin knew he was laying it on thicker than molasses, but he’d made up his mind last night, while watching the French national team crush Spain in the World Cup qualifying match, that he wasn’t leaving Paris without finding Brianna. And the first stop on his list was the front desk of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.
“Sir, I’m not trying to rush you,” Collin said, “but it’s imperative I speak to her today and I’m pressed for time.”
The hotel manager opened his mouth, then closed it. He stood there quietly, drumming his fingers on the desk, a pensive expression on his narrow face. “I’m sorry, Monsieur Childs. I just can’t do it. My conscience won’t let me.”
Collin opened his wallet, took out two hundred euros and slid it discreetly toward the hotel manager. “How does your conscience feel now?”
“Much better, Monsieur Childs. Thank you.” Swiftly pocketing the money, he returned his attention to his computer screen, a hint of a smile on his thin lips. “Just give me a moment.”
Collin pumped a fist in the air, nearly spilling his espresso, then remembered who he was and where he was and dropped his hand to his side. “I appreciate it, sir.”
“I trust that you will keep this information to yourself and use complete discretion when approaching this guest.” He spoke softly, as if he was confessing his deepest and darkest secret. “There is a woman named Brianna staying in one of our seventh-floor suites, but she’s due to check out at noon.”
“Damn, that’s what I was afraid of.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Monsieur Childs?”
Collin shook his head. “Thanks again for your help.”
Swiping a copy of Le Monde off the front desk, Collin tucked it under his arm and walked into the sunlit waiting area. The space was filled with suede couches, towering stone sculptures and leafy potted plants. Collin sat down on a black lacquer chair, opened his newspaper and reclined comfortably in his seat. From where he was sitting, he had a clear, unrestricted view of the main floor.
Perfect. He’d read the paper and keep his eye out for Brianna. They had some unfinished business to discuss before she left town, and this time Collin wasn’t letting her get away.
An hour later, Collin was restless and tired of waiting. To pass the time, he’d read the local newspaper, a business magazine and even a couple of trashy tabloids. He didn’t care about the Oscar-winning actress who’d been shipped off to rehab by her family or the soccer superstar who just had his latest run-in with the law; he wanted to talk to Brianna about what she thought she saw last night and repay her for covering his enormous bar tab.
Collin downed the rest of his espresso in one quick gulp. He was starving, hungrier than a kid at fat camp, but worried that if he left to grab a bite he’d miss Brianna.
The elevator pinged and a group of tourists—along with Brianna—flooded the lobby. Collin saw her instantly. She was hard to miss. For a fashion designer, her fitted, off-the-shoulder sweater, jeans and heeled boots were simple, but with her face of an angel and curves for days, Brianna garnered the attention of everyone on the main floor, men and women alike.
Irresistible was the word that came to mind as Collin watched her stroll past the waiting area. Her steps were confident, her posture gracefully refined. Her eyes were striking, and those curves made him drool like a dog with a bone.
I should have taken Brianna dancing last night instead of sitting in the lounge, listening to Evangeline whine about being snubbed by the Hiltons, Collin thought. Evangeline and Brianna both had flawless brown skin and were roughly the same height, but that’s where the similarities between the two women ended. Evangeline shouted, and Brianna spoke in a soft, soothing voice; Evangeline wanted to gossip, and Brianna liked to talk about her family. That’s what made the designer stand out and what piqued his interest. Brianna was unlike anyone he’d ever met, and Collin was curious to know more about her.
Starting right now.
Collin didn’t move. Timing was everything, and although Brianna walked through the lobby looking like a model in her own right, Collin didn’t jump to his feet and chase her down. He wanted to talk to her, but he didn’t want to look as desperate as the middle-aged business man nipping at her heels. He’d wait for the perfect moment to approach her.
Collin got his chance ten minutes later. Brianna walked out of the hotel gift shop carrying one shopping bag too many and paused beside the antique desk, just steps away from where he was sitting. He then stood, strode out of the waiting area and sidled up beside her. “Hello, Brianna. You’re looking especially beautiful this morning.”
Brianna turned around, realized it was him and