Rage didn’t begin to describe the emotion that coursed through Alexandra. She turned to Kendall and Brent, who’d come running at some point after the cops swarmed Russ. “Did you know about this?” she asked Brent.
His eyes widened and he shook his head. “No! Of course not!”
She turned her gaze on her best friend. “You spent two weeks hounding me to be his date.”
Kendall let out a shocked breath and took a step back. “I had no idea! I swear.”
Of the two denials, Kendall’s was the only one she believed. She turned to Brent. “You are not welcome in our apartment ever again.”
“No!” Kendall said, then she turned and must’ve seen something in Brent’s gaze because she took a step away from him.
“It’s him or me, Kendall.” She pulled the hotel room key that Russ had given her earlier and turned to one of the police officers. “He’ll be in jail tonight?”
The man nodded. “We can hold him while we test the drink and vial. It’s Friday night, so he won’t go before a judge until Monday morning. A prosecutor will file charges if the tests come out as we suspect they will.”
She turned back to Kendall. “Brent can take you home tonight. Pack up anything he left at our place. You can come back in the morning and pick me up. Alone.”
Kendall nodded.
The officers ushered people around so they could be questioned separately, Alexandra was escorted to a private corner of the ballroom. She saw Kendall and Brent leave while she was still being questioned.
As she spoke to the officers, she met the gaze of the hot man who’d been her rescuer. His eyes were intense as he watched her. She felt a strange burn in her belly.
She was thankful, angry, and attracted. A dangerous combination.
She still didn’t know his name, but now, she didn’t want to know. She liked the mystery of it. Did it matter who he was? Or who she was?
She spent her days studying the latest theories about the matter that made up the universe and the power of black holes. She knew exactly how insignificant she was on a cosmologic scale. But she mattered. To herself. To her parents and friends. And tonight, this man had cared enough about a stranger to protect her.
For all she knew, Russ was his boss. She wasn’t foolish enough to think prosecuting a man for a crime that had been prevented would result in much more than a slap on the wrist, even if it had been premeditated rape.
Everything would hinge on what they found in Russ’s home. It would be awful to discover he’d done this before, but at the same time, if they found evidence of other such assaults, he’d do serious time.
Finally, her interview was over. She scanned the room, seeing her rescuer in deep conversation with the tall man he’d indicated was family earlier.
The party had ended with the arrest, and the room was being broken down, but the dessert table still held a few treats. Alexandra crossed to the table. The fancier desserts had been consumed or cleared, but there was a tray of assorted muffins: cranberry, pumpkin chocolate chip, apple cinnamon, lemon blueberry.
There was nothing humble about these muffins. She felt bad for them that they’d been left behind. As if they couldn’t hold their own against a tart.
She grabbed a plate and loaded up, then headed for the door. She paused as she passed the two men who’d been instrumental in her rescue. The cop had told her that the tall man had gotten security and police involved while the shorter man kept an eye on Russ and the drink.
She felt all fluttery again.
She crossed to the two men. “Thank you. For everything.”
Both men nodded, faces solemn. “I’m sorry it was necessary,” the tall one said. “But glad we were there.” He then stepped back.
She was alone—sort of—with her savior. He studied her face, his brown eyes probing but warm. Heat shot through her. She held up the plate she’d loaded with desserts. “Do you like muffins?”
His mouth shifted in the slightest of smiles while his eyes lit with humor. “Yes. Some more than others.”
“Room 2204. Fifteen minutes. Don’t be late, or you’ll turn into a pumpkin.”
His smile deepened, and the sparks in her belly turned to a flame. “Yes, ma’am.”
She started to walk away, then turned. “One more thing. If you haven’t learned my name from the police…don’t.”
His face showed surprise, but he nodded. “Do you know mine?”
“No. And I intend to keep it that way.” She turned and headed to the hotel room that Russ Spaulding would pay for. Her first order of business was to place a room service order for the most expensive bottle of champagne she could get.
“She invited you to her room.” Lee gave JT a wry smile.
JT grimaced in response even though the invitation had pleased him. “I’d be thrilled, but it’s messed up how it came about. She’s got to be wrecked right now. And technically, it’s Spaulding’s room.”
“It’s the room where he would have raped her.”
“Yep.”
“Offer to take her home instead. Ask her out. Take her to dinner next week when she isn’t reeling from an assault.”
“I’ll offer, but from what she said earlier, Spaulding’s buddy Brent Forbes might be at her place tonight. She can’t go there.”
“There’s always the family home.”
He shook his head. “No way am I taking her to the senator’s estate. Or his townhouse.” JT’s dad was weeks from completing his first term as a US senator. He’d been referring to his father by his title or first name in work situations for years—it came with the territory of working for the family business—but this might be the first time he’d done it when speaking to his brother.
Former stepbrother, really, but it wasn’t just the brother bond that had lasted far longer than the marriage between JT’s dad and Lee’s mom. The paternal bond had remained as well. But ever since Joe entered politics, Lee had stepped back, wanting no part of living on the fringe of the spotlight that followed Senator Joseph Talon wherever he went.
Unlike Lee, JT had no choice. He was the senator’s only biological child and he’d taken the reins of the old man’s company, ensuring management caused no ethics violations for the junior senator from Maryland.
JT didn’t mind because he had his own political ambitions and was content in the reflective glow. He’d put in his time at Talon & Drake, an engineering firm that had contracts all over the world. He cut deals with governments and sometimes even royalty, literally building bridges that would secure international support when he made his own move.
Not that anyone outside the US could vote, but it never hurt to show you were an international player. His dad had used the springboard to great effect and intended to throw his hat in the primaries for the 2008 or 2012 presidential elections if he had enough support—financial and political—to be viable.
And if Dad didn’t make it to the Oval Office, his work would just be paving the way for JT, who, at thirty-one, had more than enough time to build his team.
The fact that Talon & Drake had a sexual predator on staff was not publicity he needed, however. At least if the arrest made local news, he could show it had been dealt with swiftly in cooperation with police and the guy would be fired the moment the tests on the drink were official.
He’d fire Brent Forbes too if he was linked to the crime.
“Be careful, my friend,” Lee said. “She’s had a rough night.” The kid was five years younger than JT, but he no longer saw him as a little brother or even protégé. He was one of the few men JT could really be himself with, who understood what it meant to exist in the senator’s orbit.
It was probably why JT had never told Lee about his own political ambitions. Lee might want to distance himself from JT, just as he had from Joe, and JT couldn’t afford that.
JT’s world was a lonely one. He didn’t socialize with employees. He was younger than the executives who worked beneath him, and way too far up the ladder for the employees who were of similar age. It was easier to keep himself separate because the executives wanted to put him in his place, while the midlevel biologists and engineers who would be his peers were intimidated.
Events like this one were a job requirement, but not one he would bring a date to. This was work. Lee, knowing how miserable JT would be after the formalities were over, had shown up so JT wouldn’t be alone with executives who despised him, or worse, be the recipient of awkward attempts at small talk from employees looking to become drinking buddies, or the women who weren’t afraid to make a pass at the young, rich CEO.
He’d been ready to call it a night when the blonde returned to the party, alone and mad as hell, and JT was absolutely certain she did not work for Talon & Drake, making her a party guest he could spend time with.
So he’d approached her and was surprised to discover she had no clue who he was.
Even better.
Now she’d invited him to her room for muffins. And that wasn’t even a euphemism.
“She needs a friend and a shoulder,” he said to Lee. “That’s all I’ll be.” He glanced at his BlackBerry. Nine minutes until he turned into a pumpkin. Better get going, because the hotel was a walk from the casino, and she was on a high floor. “Thanks for coming. I know you hate this stuff.”
“Glad I came. See you Christmas Eve?”
“Not if I can get out of it.”
“You know you can’t. It wouldn’t be Christmas without you.”
If only it was just JT’s presence he was referring to. “I better get a kickass present from you.”
“One anatomically correct blow-up doll coming up,” Lee said as he headed for the casino floor.
“Damn, I hate it when we get each other the same thing,” JT called after him. “Ruins the surprise.”
Lee laughed and disappeared into the crowd on his way to the exit.
JT headed for the covered walkway to the hotel. His gut clenched as he crossed the parking lot that separated hotel from casino. A chill wind blew off the Chesapeake, and he shivered.
Emotions swirled through him as he rode the elevator. Anticipation and anxiety warred for supremacy.
From the moment he’d spotted her and realized she wasn’t an employee, he’d felt a kick in the gut. It had been completely superficial. The woman was stunningly beautiful. Flawless pale cream skin, loads of platinum-blonde hair, heavily lashed big blue eyes. An hourglass figure atop long legs made even longer with sexy stilettos.
His attraction had grown exponentially after speaking with her.
He reached her room and paused before knocking, feeling nervous. She might well have fallen apart in the fifteen minutes since she’d left the ballroom. He might be the last person she wanted to see now.
He took a deep breath, then raised his fist and hit the door, his heart pounding with a matching thud.
The door swung open. She met him with a wicked smile. “You’re late, Pumpkin.”
He couldn’t help but grin at seeing her in the fluffy white hotel robe. Was she wearing anything underneath?
He stepped into the room, backing her up against the small foyer wall. He planted an arm beside her head and leaned in. “I’m pretty sure I made it just under the wire.” He pulled out his BlackBerry, just as the appointment reminder went off. “See?”
She yanked the device from his hand. “Is this one of those new smartphone thingies that can send and receive emails?”
He grinned. “Yes. And as you can see, I’m right on time.”
She studied the screen. “You set the meeting for fifteen minutes from now, which would make you very late.”
“It’s a reminder that goes off fifteen minutes before the meeting, so I had to fudge it a bit to set it quickly. BlackBerry says that in future models, you’ll be able to set timers and alarms without tying them to a meeting.”
“So you admit you’re late.”
“Does that mean I don’t get any muffins? That’s what you invited me here for, right?”
She slipped under his arm, still holding his phone. He followed her into the king suite. The plate of muffins sat on the coffee table in front of the couch. She waved to the plate. “You can have the pumpkin one.”
“My favorite.” He picked up the indicated muffin and took a bite from the center of the top. He chewed then said, “Moist and delicious.”
She rolled her eyes, even as she laughed.
There was a knock at the door.
“You expecting someone else?”
“Room service.”
He followed her to the door, pulling out his wallet.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Then her eyes flared. “Well, Russ does. And tonight, he’s a big tipper.”
She opened the door to reveal a man in hotel uniform holding a silver ice bucket containing a bottle of sparkling wine in one hand and two champagne flutes in the other. JT accepted the wine and glasses, while she signed the check.
JT set the bucket on the small dining table and pulled out the bottle. He let out a low whistle.
“I asked for the most expensive bottle of champagne they have. I figure Russ owes me.”
“Revenge is a dish best served in an ice bucket.”
She laughed. “Something like that.” She took the bottle from his hands and inspected the foil that covered the wire hood, then handed it back to him. “Sealed tight. Open it for us?”
He imagined she would be vigilant about her drinks from now on and couldn’t blame her. Hell, he was glad she’d be wary.
But still, what kind of prick drugged his date’s drink at a company party? Wasn’t it the kind of thing guys only got away with if it was a stranger who couldn’t identify them later?
Did he really believe she’d stay silent after being raped?
But then, GHB was a club drug because for some it caused arousal. Maybe Spaulding had intended to claim she’d brought the drug and taken it herself. Then it would be he said/she said. And there were more than a few people in the legal system who would be happy to blame a woman dressed as sexily as the blonde was tonight.
He removed the foil and began untwisting the wire hood. “You sure you don’t want to know my name?”
She stepped forward and placed a finger over his lips. “No. The cops have your name. I could find out if I need to. And I’m pretty sure your tall friend heard me invite you to the room.”
He pulled the cover off. “And why am I here? For muffins and champagne?”
“I think you know what I want.”
“You’re going to have to be explicit. I assume nothing.”
“Do you have a wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, or any kind of significant other who would object to your spending time with me?”
“No. But my stepbrother expressed concern that you’re vulnerable and pointed out this room”—he glanced around the deluxe suite—“is the very room where Spaulding intended to rape you.”
She flinched, but quickly recovered. “The tall guy is your stepbrother?”
He nodded. “He suggested I take you home. Get your phone number. Take you out to dinner later this week.”
“He sounds like a nice guy. You can tell him I said thank you for his concern, but I can’t go home tonight, and I’m not interested in you for dinner. I’m not hungry.” She smiled. “Or at least, not hungry for food.”
Heat surged to JT’s groin. He moved toward the sliding door to the enclosed balcony and slid it open. The cold December air would do him good. She followed him outside and stood beside him as he worked the cork with his thumbs. It made a satisfying pop as the plug launched into the air, arching, then dropping into the closed pool area below.
She took the bottle from his hand and licked the dribble of foam from the lip before taking a drink.
The sight of her tongue on the rim sent yet another round of heat to his balls. So much for the cool December air.
Back inside, she sat on the couch and poured champagne into both glasses. He gave thanks that she didn’t intend to continue drinking from the bottle.
He settled on the couch next to her. “I need a name for you. I can’t just think of you as the hot blonde I met at the bar.”
She smiled and reached for his muffin. “Call me whatever you want, Pumpkin.” She took a bite and closed her eyes with pleasure. “These are really good. I’ve always liked muffins more than cupcakes, which really are just a vessel for frosting. A good muffin doesn’t need decoration to do the heavy lifting for flavor.”
He studied her. She’d taken down her hair, removed the four-inch fuck-me heels, and now wore a fluffy white robe that covered her from wrist to neck to ankle.
He grinned. “I couldn’t agree more, Muffin.”
She burst out laughing, set his muffin back on the plate, then raised her champagne flute. “So what do you say, Pumpkin?”
“To what?”
“Will you fuck me, here, now? I can’t…put into words what it means to me to take this kind of control after what could have happened. I just know I want this. Want you.”
JT picked up his champagne flute and downed it in one long gulp. He set the glass aside, stood, then reached out a hand, pulling her to her feet.
With a finger beneath her chin, he turned her face up to his. Barefoot, she was a few inches shorter than his six feet. He held her gaze for a long moment, seeing desire, hope, and, hidden beneath the more obvious emotions, he saw fear.
Fear of what almost happened, or fear he would reject her?
He would never reject her. But he also couldn’t take her up on her offer, not if he ever hoped for more with this woman.
He lowered his mouth to hers. He licked at the seam of her lips, and she opened for him. She tasted of pumpkin and chocolate and champagne. Even if he never saw her again, he’d bet he would always associate those flavors with her.
He left her mouth to run his tongue over her collarbone. Up her neck. Below her ear.
She whimpered and pulled him close. His arm around her waist tightened. His heavy erection pressed into her belly. He moved his arm lower, scooping her up so his cock met her center as the robe split and she wrapped her legs around his hips.
“Damn, Muffin. I want to be inside you.”
“I have condoms. I bought them in the lobby on my way to the room.”
Shit. He couldn’t do this. His plan to kiss her to show it wasn’t a rejection had backfired. He hadn’t guessed how quickly things could get out of hand.
“Tell me one thing. If I fuck you tonight, am I ever going to see you again?”
She stiffened against him, then wriggled until he shifted, lowering her feet to the ground. They stood chest to chest. She tucked her face in his neck.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
“I take it that’s a no.”
She raised her head but didn’t meet his gaze. “I—I can’t. I don’t have time to date. I don’t want to date. Just fuck me. Let me feel in control. Then we’ll part ways with good memories to drown out what could have happened.”
“I won’t be satisfied with a nameless, shameless fuck. Don’t get me wrong. I would love every minute of it and would make sure you did too. But that’s not what I want. I want you.”
“How could you? You don’t know me.”
“No. But I want to know you. And if we do this now, tonight, I’ll be part of your processing trauma and putting it behind you. But then you’ll need to put me behind you too.”
She stepped back from him, pulled the sides of her robe back together, and cinched the belt. “I’m not traumatized.”
“Muffin.” The name felt awkward, but it was all he had. “Your date booked a hotel room, slipped something into your drink, and then cajoled you into taking a drink, which you would have done if we hadn’t been there to stop you. He would have then taken you to this very room and assaulted you.
“Even though it didn’t happen, it’s a fucking nightmare scenario that was aided by your roommate and her date, who convinced you to go to the party with Russ Spaulding. Physically, you’re fine, but you can’t tell me you don’t feel the pain in your gut. The fear. The what-ifs. I feel it. I want to go to the hotel gym and punch the fuck out of the heavy bags. And the adrenaline of it all means I want to fuck you. Desperately. But if I let you use me as your punching bag, or your fuck-and-forget friend, then I can’t be part of your healing later.”
Her face crumpled then, and she let out a shriek.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Her fists thumped on his chest, but not with a force meant to hurt. “Damn you. I was fine. I was going to get laid by this hot man who saved me from a monster. And then I was going to leave this hotel room whole.”
He rubbed her back as she wound down and slumped against him.
He stroked her hair, marveling at the soft feel of it between his fingers. “It’s not that simple, sweetheart. You’ll have to face him in a courtroom. His attorneys will claim you wanted the drug, that you use it as an aphrodisiac. They’ll get his friend who set you up to confirm that you asked for it. This is only the beginning. I’d rather be there for you down the line than do something now that will make me part of the nightmare.”
She pulled back and met his gaze. Her eyes were damp. “Have you considered I might not want you with me later?”
“Of course. But I hope you give me a chance.” He stroked her cheek. “Dinner, Sunday?”
“I told you. I don’t have time to date.”
“What I overheard indicated you’re a student. Grad school?”
She nodded.
“Do you have the next few weeks off?”
She nodded again. “Until the ninth, actually.”
“I’m in town until New Year’s Day.”
She shook her head. “I can’t…I… Please. Don’t ask me for anything. Not when I don’t know what I have to give.”
He brushed his lips over her forehead. “Then just know I’m here, when you’re ready or if you need me.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible because I meant it when I said I don’t want to know your name. I don’t want your number. And I won’t give you mine. Don’t get my name from the police. Or, if you find out accidentally, don’t use it to find me. I wanted to feel in control here. That’s what this…tonight…was going to be about.”
“You are absolutely in control. If you want me to leave, I’ll go.”
“What if I want you to stay?”
“I’ll stay. But I won’t have sex with you.”
“Even if I say pretty please?” She batted those thick, long eyelashes.
He chuckled. “Oh. Well. That changes everything.”
She tucked her head against his chest and let out a pained laugh.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
The arms around his waist tightened. “No. I…I don’t want to be alone here. In this room.” He felt her shiver against him. She raised her head and met his gaze. “Please. Will you at least hold me until I fall asleep?”
The pain in her blue eyes gutted him. “Of course. I’ll hold you all night if you want.”
“I want.” She loosened her hold and stepped back. “Thank you. I’ll uh…get ready. For bed.” Then she rose on her toes and kissed his cheek, right next to his lips.
He was so tempted to turn his head and make it a real kiss, but he wouldn’t toy with her that way. He was here for comfort, not sex. But damn, she was hard to resist.
“You’re a good man, whoever you are.” She whispered the words as she kissed his neck just above the collarbone.
He touched her cheek. “You’re a strong woman.” I hope you’ll give me a chance to get to know you.
She slipped from his arms and readied herself for bed in the bathroom while he removed his shoes, socks, belt, tie, and dress shirt. He had a T-shirt underneath; his suit pants would just have to be slept in. He actually had a hotel suite on the other end of this floor and considered going there to grab his toothbrush and a pair of sweatpants to sleep in, but he remembered the shiver that ran through her when she said she didn’t want to be alone.
She crawled into bed, and he took his turn in the bathroom. He didn’t have toothpaste or a toothbrush, but there was a hotel bottle of mouthwash on the counter, which he swished around after rinsing with water.
He turned off the lights, then crawled into the king-sized bed beside her. He reached for her, and she curled up on his lap. He held her in the dark, taking in her scent and enjoying the feel of her in his arms.
After a while, they shifted positions until they lay spooned together, and at last, her body relaxed. He had no clue how much time passed before her breathing evened out and he was certain she was asleep.
He lay with his arm around her waist, knees tucked up behind hers, and marveled at the events that had led to this moment. He’d known her for less than four hours and still didn’t know her name, but still, he felt certain this woman would change his life. Maybe she already had.