Mogul (Manhattan #2)(17)

Ian—my Workaholic, my one-night stand, my perfect lay—watches me daringly while he takes the leash. His gaze meets mine as he motions me forward. I start down the path with wobbly knees, aware of him and Milly stepping in beside me.

“How have you been?” he asks, voice low.

“Good. I’m glad to see you.” I smile.

He smiles too, and my eyes almost hurt by looking at the Face of My Dreams up close again. “Can’t say I wasn’t disappointed when I checked in today to see you gone,” he says.

I’m shocked to hear this, something his dark gaze seems to easily drink in.

“Yeah, Sara. I noticed.” He leads Milly to a shady area surrounded by trees. “Did I have anything to do with you leaving?”

“No.” I really don’t want him to worry, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t like having affected my job that way. “They’re making cuts and I was probably the worst concierge they had, so they let me go.” I roll my eyes as if they’re so silly to have done that.

“That’s not accurate.” Ian tuts and shakes his head. “You went above and beyond for their customers.”

“Not really. Just one of them.”

As my words fill the air around us, suddenly we’re both staring at each other, the chemistry between us so on fire I worry for the trees nearby.

“I should change hotels,” he says mischievously, a twinkle in his dark eyes.

“No. You shouldn’t.”

“Absolutely I will. If they can’t value you, then I’m not interested.”

“Your company sends you to that hotel. You and other execs.”

“You don’t think I can persuade my company to change hotels?”

“I’d hate to lose you and your company’s business if I were them. But!” I reach out and steal Milly’s leash from his fingers, then twirl around and face him, backing away from him as I narrow my eyes. “I think you’re bluffing to make me feel better. I’m fine, though. Trust me. I’ve got this.” I point toward a sniffing, tail-wagging Milly. “I also have a job helping my roommate with her new business.”

“You find that rewarding?”

“I find my salary rewarding.”

There’s a slight quickening in my pulse when he smiles. “And the job?” he asks, tilting his head in curiosity.

“I’m grateful for it. I can’t say I don’t still look at casting calls in the city, but… it’ll do.”

“Shouldn’t be hard to find plenty of those. This is New York, after all.”

“I know.” There is more to my story, though, and I’m surprised when I say it out loud. “I was so close to landing the gig of my dreams years ago. My body failed me terribly. Bad body,” I chide.

“What happened?” He frowns, but the look he gives my body isn’t exactly one that agrees with me about my body being bad.

“Shit. A lot of shit. I ended up as a concierge.”

“Can’t say I regret that decision or turn of events.” There’s that smile again.

“Really. Our one-night stand was that profound to you.”

“I’m about to make it two.”

As I keep backing away and he keeps walking forward, I catch him glancing at my lips.

He doesn’t even try to hide it.

It turns me on.

My hungry body recognizes him as the last guy to pleasure me, and my hormones are flooding my system in response. I start feeling my heart pound and I can barely suppress my crazy, out-of-control reaction. I can almost taste him on my mouth, can almost feel his touch, like I did in room 1103.

Exhaling, I spin back around so that Milly and I are walking a few steps ahead of him, and I tuck my hair behind my ear and try to ignore my erratic hormones.

Seeing him again, his gorgeous face, his sexy designer slacks and that crisp white shirt, inhaling his intoxicating scent, I’m reminded why I haven’t stopped thinking about him since that night.

This guy makes me hungry. Hungry like someone who hasn’t eaten for days and is standing before a chocolate buffet, and chocolate is her favorite.

He catches up with us, stealing the leash back from me. His fingers brush over mine and he tugs on the leash so slowly that I know it’s on purpose.

“So this is how I find out your name.” I tut and shake my head.

“I seem to have one.”

“And it’s a fairly easy one to spell. You definitely could have shared that with me,” I add with a raised brow.

“It wasn’t relevant at the time.”

“And is it relevant now?” I fish.

We pause in the middle of the path.

He loosens the leash while Milly sniffs around a large tree trunk, and we stare at each other. He eyes my lips, and I eye his.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe it’s relevant. Maybe it’s not.”

I wait.

“Ian…” I test his name out loud. “I like it.”

His eyes darken, as if hearing his name is the most effective aphrodisiac for the man. I curse myself for saying it in the middle of Central Park. Not that I can do anything about quenching our thirst now.

I wonder if he’s going to take a cab back to the hotel.