Page 5 of Tuxedos and Tinsel
“Maya, wait.”
“Ian, I need to get back to my job,” she said without turning around.
“How much longer do you have to work?”
Truthfully, there wasn’t anything else she needed to do. The hotel staff would take care of replenishing the desserts as needed, but Maya prided herself on offering the best services to her clients and often stayed around for a while to ensure that there were no problems. Tonight, however, she was torn between fleeing the hotel as fast as she could and dancing the night away with the fine man still idly rubbing his thumb in small circles in her palm. “An hour or so,” she said breathlessly.
Ian turned her to face him. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”
“No,” she answered hesitantly. Her shop was closed on Sundays.
A slow grin made its way across Ian’s face. “I’ll wait for you.” He kissed her and, instead of going back into the ballroom, sauntered off down the hallway.
Maya slumped against the wall and took in several deep breaths to calm her pounding heart. No denying she was attracted to Ian, but after the mess she had gone through with her ex, she shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts of even talking to a man. Pushing off the wall, she made her way to the kitchen and made arrangements to pick up her containers.
“Oh, there you are,” the executive chef called in his heavily accented English, coming toward her, a wide grin plastered on his face.
Her brow lifted a fraction at the stark change in his demeanor. When she first arrived, he had been curt and none too happy that she had been contracted to provide the desserts instead of his staff. She curbed the urge to glance behind her to see if he was talking to someone else.
“My dear, these desserts are simply divine. I must say my favorite is the black-and-white pudding parfait. It’s a chocolate lover’s dream! Would you mind if I kept your contact information...for a few special occasions?” he added, lowering his voice to a whisper.
“I left my cards in my car.”
“No worries.” He rushed over to a table, came back and pushed a small card and pen in her hand.
The mention of chocolate conjured up an image of her and Ian at the dessert table—his nearness, piercing midnight eyes, smooth-as-honey voice—and a rush of heat spread through her body. The man had a way with words. Still thinking about Ian, she absently scribbled her address on the card and handed it back. “Thank you so much for your kind words. It means a lot coming from you.”
“No, thankyou, Maya. Are you sure I can’t lure you away to come work for me?”
Maya chuckled. “I’m flattered, but I enjoy working for myself.”
He shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Is there anything else you need me to take care of?”
“No. My staff will take care of everything.”
“I’ll drop by on Monday morning to pick up my containers.” They engaged in polite conversation for a few minutes, and then Maya left. The chef’s staff had everything under control and this would be the perfect time to slip out before Ian noticed she was gone. Something about the way he held and kissed her told her this man was dangerous to her psyche and she didn’t want to risk another encounter with him. But the perfectionist in Maya wouldn’t let her leave without checking the table one last time.
Ian walked directly to the hotel’s registration desk. Holding Maya in his arms had set off a raging desire within him that only she could satisfy. He didn’t know how he would accomplish it, but he had to convince her to spend the night with him.
“May I help you, sir?” the smiling clerk asked.
“Yes. I’d like to book a room for the night.”
She clicked a few keys on her computer. “There are no standard rooms available, but I do have a one-bedroom suite. It has a living area with a sleeper sofa, wet bar—”
He removed a credit card from his wallet and placed it on the counter. “Even better.” He planned for them to use every square inch of that suite. Ian signed the paper, put the card back into his wallet and accepted the room key.
“Enjoy your stay, Mr. Jeffries.”
“I plan to. Thank you.” He stopped at the gift shop first and then went up to his room to deposit the bag. Ian took a quick peek at his watch. He had forty minutes to come up with a way to persuade Maya to go along with his proposal. As soon as he entered the ballroom, Mr. Capshaw called out to him.
“Ian, there you are.”
“How are you, Mr. Capshaw? Nice party.”
He laughed heartily. “I can’t think of a better way to start the holiday season, and we have a lot to celebrate this year.” Capshaw’s slightly slurred voice indicated that the man had probably reached his limit two drinks ago.
