Page 55 of One Dangerous Desire
She tensed, and her eyes went round as she wrapped her other hand around his arm. “It’s too much.”
“Let go, love. Just let go. I’m here to catch you.”
Her eyelids slid shut, and she bit her lower lip as she moaned. Rex pressed his lips to hers, and she opened to him eagerly, hungrily, letting him swallow her sounds of pleasure. He kissed her as she shuddered against him, held her until the carriage rattled to a stop.
He’d asked the cab man to take the scenic route, to extend the short journey as long as he could, and he’d specified no particular time when they would arrive. Still, his foreman and chief architect stood waiting for them in front of the hotel site.
When Rex lifted the cab doors open, May stopped him with a tug on his arm. “Wait. Do you think they’ll know? I mean, do I look any different?”
“You look . . . ” She looked delicious. Her eyes were glowing, her cheeks were delectably pinked, and her lips were plump from his kisses. The frothy mauve confection she wore was covered in lace and beading that sparkled in the sunlight, but Rex could think only of getting her out of the gown. His gaze locked on the creamy expanse of flesh and the hint of tantalizing cleavage between her pearl choker and the velvet-edged neckline of her bodice. “You look wonderful.”
“Not too disheveled, then? Rex?”
She shook his arm to get his attention. He was still staring, still aching too.
He tried to assess her objectively and shook his head. The workmen could not possibly look at both of them and mistake the flush in May’s cheeks or the bee-stung swell of her lips. “They’ll know I kissed you, but soon everyone will also know I mean to marry you.”
“Soon?”
He loved the question. Adored it so much so that he wanted to kiss her again. But first he wanted to show her the hotel.
Like a child taking in one of Sedgwick’s elaborate holiday window displays, May darted her gaze around eagerly as Rex led her into the Thorndike property, soon to be the home of the Pinnacle Hotel. Workmen were busy conducting a symphony of bangs, thuds, and curt shouts while they attended to everything from restoring brickwork in the walls, to cutting and sanding wood to create an elaborate entry arch, to laying tiles in an intricate pattern in the lobby’s waiting area.
When his foreman spotted them, the man tipped his hat and nudged a young workman to clear a path through to the stairwell.
“Watch your step as we proceed,” Rex warned May. “This is very much a work in progress, and you’ll find dust and debris on every level.” He still didn’t trust the overhead beams the men were working on. Even the bricklayers were occasionally lackadaisical about where they left the tools of their trade. Exposing May to the dangers of the site didn’t sit well with him, but he intended for a very brief tour. More than anything, he wanted to show her one special room.
“The stairs are beautiful,” May said as she bent at the waist to inspect the glint of color in the granite. “Shouldn’t they be covered so that they aren’t damaged during construction?”
“The men know when to take care.” The fact that she was concerned about the stairs, or any part of the hotel, caused a jolt of pleasure in the center of his chest.
“Are they made of marble?”
“Granite imported from Italy.”
His architect unfurled several sheets of blueprints and floorplans, and they stood side by side as the gentleman gesticulated and explained how they would lay in the electricity. She was especially fascinated with a sketch of the massive dynamo generators that would power the hotel. Rex pointed skyward, and her eyes followed the gesture up to where a soon-to-be electrified chandelier base had already been installed.
After she thoroughly perused each drawing, Rex led May up one more level.
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’re an impatient woman,” he teased.
“We both are.” She grinned up at him. “Do you think it will make for a terrible marriage?”
“I think it’ll make for a very active one. At least I hope it will.”
May thumped him on the arm and laughed, a light, sweet sound that echoed in the empty high-ceilinged stairwell.
“Here we are.” Rex pushed aside two long tarps draped over the entryway.
“Oh my goodness! It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Rex couldn’t have held back his grin if he’d tried. It was an unrivaled compliment from an American heiress, who’d dined in Newport mansions and socialized with the wealthiest families in New York, to say that she’d never seen anything like the unfinished ballroom he’d envisioned with her in mind. Perhaps the best compliment he’d ever received.
She moved into the room, picked a spot near the center, and spun around. “Is it just my imagination or are the walls glittering?”
The space wasn’t half of what he hoped it would be when finished. The floor had been laid but not yet fully lacquered and polished, and the walls had yet to receive finishing touches. Only the first layer of paint had been applied. Several more would be needed to achieve a true Tiffany glaze.
