| |
"I hate downtown parking," London muttered as she parallel parked as well as she could in front of the bed and breakfast. As she climbed out of her Volkswagen, she grimaced at the crooked angle of her car, way too far away from the curb to be legal. She could have parked in one of the public garages, but she decided since the B&B had a valet service, she hadn't wanted to lug a suitcase for several blocks.
The Aegean Inn looked more like a mansion than a hotel of any kind. It was very similar to the Kehoe House, but the bricks were more a weather-worn grayish brown. The windows were lit up with lamps from the interior, showcasing elaborate blue and gold curtains. The shutters, French doors, and balcony on the third floor were painted white. The doorway was on the second floor, with a double sided stairwell leading to it. The windows on the lowest level had cast iron bars to keep out intruders, and the building sported fish-shaped waterspouts that opened over the sidewalks.
London took a deep breath and unlocked the trunk to her car. She had packed two bags; although, to be fair, the smaller of the bags was nothing but toiletries and cosmetic supplies, along with extra shoes. She stacked the smaller case on top of the suitcase and slammed her trunk closed.
"Ms. Bridges, I assume?"
London glanced up at the minutely accented voice and sucked in a breath. An incredibly handsome man leaned against the railing on the front stoop, looking down at her. Warmth spread through her body, and her hormones snapped to attention. The man smiled at what she could only imagine was an expression of shock on her face. She felt her cheeks heating up.
"Allow me help with your bags, ma'am."
"Please don't call me ma'am. You make me feel like I'm my mother's age." London was twenty-five. She wasn't ready to be a "ma'am" yet.
She checked him out as he approached her. His dark slacks were freshly ironed, and he had a matching jacket over a crisp, white button-up. His shoulders were broad, his jawbone exquisitely chiseled. His dark-brown hair was too long to be considered short, but not particularly long, making him look like a dashing rogue who had dimples when he smiled.
"You must be the bellboy?" London blurted.
The man stopped a few feet from her and collected her luggage. He lifted the heavier suitcase like it weighed nothing. London had struggled pulling it out of the trunk.
"I prefer the term, 'man who will provide any service necessary.'" He winked at her, causing her to notice his pale indigo eyes.
"Um, that was more like a phrase..." Yeah, she was really smooth.
"So it is. Let me escort you to the front desk to get checked in. I'll take your things upstairs, and then I'll move your car after I show you to your room. Feels like you packed a lot for one weekend."
London followed him to the door, and as he set down the luggage to open the door for her, she knew she was blushing for sure. She smiled shyly and ambled inside. "I couldn't decide on what I wanted to wear, so I brought multiple options."
"The whole closet?"
"Not even close." When she brushed past him, London had the strongest urge to pretend to trip and fall to see if he'd catch her. She resisted, barely.
"So if you don't want me to call you ma'am, what should I call you? Ms. Bridges?"
"My name is London. Call me that." She glanced at him as he fell into step beside her.
The man's smile brought his dimples to their full glory and London inwardly groaned. She knew what was coming before he chuckled and replied, "Your name is London Bridges?" Like I haven't heard it a million times before.
"I was conceived in London. Parents thought it would be hilarious given our last name." And it was. To everyone who wasn't her.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of your name. It took me off guard." They reached the desk in the corner of the grand entry room. A blonde woman with a messy bun and scarlet red lipstick regarded them with an arched brow.
"I'm used to it. To tell you the truth, I'd hoped to be married by now to change it." Oh God. Why did I say that? Way to scare a man off, London!
The man's smile widened as he put the suitcase down again and held out his hand for hers. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, London. My name is Jacen."
London put her hand in his, expecting him to shake it, but gasped when he bowed low and kissed her knuckles. His breath was warm over her skin, his lips soft as a whisper.
"I'll be back to show you to your room in a moment," he told her, and then with a nod toward the woman at the desk, Jacen made his exit with the luggage.
Tearing her gaze from Jacen's backside was a trial in self-control, and it didn't go unnoticed by the other woman. Beatrice, as her nametag identified her, smiled. "He's a tremendous flirt. Try not to get too attached."
London looked around while Beatrice pulled up the reservation on the computer. The lobby smelled like magnolias. It wasn't an overwhelming smell, but very southern and surprising for a place named after the Aegean Sea. The floors were hardwood, a deep mahogany. And the gold colored sofas and chairs were laden with blue throw pillows from navy to cerulean to the palest of hues.
"I could live here," London noted under her breath.
The corner of Beatrice's mouth tilted upward. "Honey, you couldn't handle it if you did."
***
Jacen set the luggage in the corner of the single. A king-sized bed filled the room, and he couldn't stop his mind from wondering what London would look like spread out upon it, legs opening to him. True, he'd been momentarily disappointed when he spotted her after her terrible attempt at parallel parking, but then he saw her. Really saw her.
She wasn't a nymph sent to rescue him from an endless curse, but she was beautiful. Her long, straight chestnut hair had wafted alluringly in the breeze outside. And she was tall, level with his shoulders, which not many women were, and would be even after she took the dainty heeled sandals off her feet. Sandals that emphasized long legs and impeccable calves beneath the hem of a sunshine yellow dress. He wanted to run his hands all over those legs. Pull them around his waist as he—
Control. Control the lust, Jacen. You can do this. You are not a beast. You are a man, so act like it.
A man who looked beastly when the sun set. And the sun would be down in two hours, which meant he'd have to resist giving into his nature until the next day. London would probably spend the evening out, and he couldn't go with her. Couldn't get caught in the crowds downtown and reveal his presence to the world. Whatever it was about her that made his heart beat a little faster would have to wait until the morning.
He locked the door with the antique key and headed back downstairs. Beatrice was telling London about the included breakfast-in-bed service. London didn't know it yet, but Jacen would be delivering her breakfast personally, with a side of seduction. He'd let her think it was a dish of pancakes until then.
London turned to face him with a smile, her gaze trailing down the length of him and back up again. Jacen hoped she liked what she saw, because he planned to show her more of it.
"All checked in?" He offered her his elbow. London hesitated, but only a second, before she looped her arm in his. He shamelessly pulled his arm closer, trapping hers to where she had to stay pressed to his side as they ascended the creaky wooden stairs to the next floor.
"So, uh, how long have you guys been here?"
"Eight years. We bought the building, decided we liked the historic setting, and went from there."
"You talk as though you own the place. I've never heard of The Aegean Inn, and I live in Savannah."
"I am one of the owners, yes. And we aren't big into advertising. With the rooms being few, we stay pretty booked up."
"Oh. You and your wife?"
"I'm not married." Jacen noticed she perked up at his response. Yes, London. You can have me at your beck and call during your stay. "It's just me and my three brothers."
They reached room 304 and Jacen escorted her inside, he placed the little key on the table beside the bed and watched as London perused around. He took great pride in the way her eyes widened at the huge bed, the hand-carved headboard, armoire, table, and chairs—woodwork the four of them had labored over decades before. The walls were painted a soft, dusty gold to give the room an elegant and regal atmosphere. The color scheme in this room was more of the turquoise variety, with a very teal comforter with faint golden scroll work. Above the bed was a print of the William-Adolphe Bouguereau classical painting of the satyr being dragged into a lake by nymphs.
"Oh, wow." She pulled away from him to peek inside the TV armoire. "This place is gorgeous." Jacen strode past her and opened the doors to the balcony. London practically skipped in her rush to see outside.
"Oh, man." London looked over the railing. "My parking sucks ass."
He came up beside her, pretending to be interested in her car, but he wanted to be closer to her. Something about her sparked an interest that was more than the lust brought on by the curse. He liked her. Wanted to know about her, and not just fuck her and go. The wind blew her hair into his face and he caught the scent of pomegranates, his favorite fruit. "Well, in all fairness, whoever parked their Subaru there should have pulled up farther. They didn't leave you enough room."
"Yeah. Thanks for humoring me."
Shifting, and hoping his arousal wasn't obvious to her in the starched trousers. Jacen knew he had to retreat before he stayed there all night and frightened her with his true appearance. "I should go move your car before you get a ticket. Unless you're driving to dinner tonight?"
"Nah. Gonna walk over to City Market."
"That's right," he said. "You did say you were local." Which could be a problem if he became attached to her over the weekend. His reaction was enough to worry him in that regard.
"All my life."
"Good, so I don't really need to tell you to stay safe."
"Why, Mr. Jacen, it sounds like you're angling to act as my protector."
"Just Jacen is fine. Unfortunately, I'm working tonight. However, I would love to take you to lunch tomorrow."
London opened her mouth and closed it again. Maybe he'd been too forward.
"S-sure, Just Jacen. Does noon sound okay?"
A grin split across his face. "Noon sounds excellent." He turned to leave, but paused. "Car key?"
"What? Oh!" London reached into the little tan handbag she'd brought in with her and pulled out a set of keys with a purple butterfly keychain. She removed the car key and handed it to him. Then she started scrambling in her purse once more. "I almost forgot to tip you."
"No need."
"Really, you've been so helpful, I can't—"
"London," Jacen put his hand over hers, stopping her from pulling her wallet free of her purse, "I'm taking you to lunch tomorrow. That's all I need."
"Are you sure? Because I don't mind."
"I'm sure." He winked at her again and headed toward the door. He needed more, but there wasn't enough time before sunset. He could wait until after their lunch date. "Until we meet again."