‘Thank you again for last weekend –’
‘It was nothing. I wish I could have been with you. I’m so sorry.’
Something flares in her eyes and she lowers them quickly, like a window shade screening whatever she’s thinking.
I pull her chin up. ‘What?’
She shakes her head and tries to smile, but she’s no actress. ‘It’s nothing. I’m just … still sad. I don’t want to ruin the weekend you’ve planned. Let’s not talk about it. I’ll be okay.’
I want to press her to tell me what’s going through her mind. I want to tease her about what a horrible liar she is, and how I need to give her lessons, if she means to do it right – but the words stick in my throat. I can’t call her on a fib with what I’ve been hiding from her.
‘No problem,’ I whisper, kissing her again before taking her backpack and placing it in the seat behind her. ‘I plan to indulge your every desire this weekend, Miss Cantrell.’
She’s unusually quiet as I manoeuvre through in-town traffic. Crossing the bay, she stares out of her window, silently watching the yachts and fishing boats, her gaze rising to follow the occasional seagull. For the hundredth time, I struggle to find some way out of telling her about River – not now, not this weekend – but I may not see her until her spring recess – a month away. Some time in the next few days, Dad will start the adoption process. After I’ve told Brooke, of course.
They’ve accelerated the schedule for my next film, much of which will be shot on set at Universal Studios in LA, with the rest shot in Utah and New York. Filming was supposed to start in April; instead, we’re starting next week, with the scenes in Utah up first.
The best way out is always through.
I’ve made Saturday dinner reservations, so when I suggest that we stay in and order room service tonight, Dori agrees.
‘You can even do a little studying,’ I say, and she crooks an eyebrow at me, dubious. ‘Maybe like twenty minutes’ worth.’ Pulling up to the valet at the Mandarin, I add, ‘Once dinner arrives, though, you’re mine.’ Grinning, I grab our bags and hop out.
We’re definitely recognized at the front desk – or at least, I am. I think the desk clerk is more than a little worried that I’m checking in with an underage girl, given Dori’s backpack and make-up-free face – thank God for the Cal-wear she’s sporting, which suggests that she’s the co-ed she is. Within minutes, we’re in the designated elevator, zooming up to the suite.
‘Oh, my gosh – my stomach,’ she says, holding on to me and laughing.
‘No need for the elevator to waste time when it doesn’t plan to stop anywhere along the way. I promise that’s the last rushed experience you’ll have tonight.’ I kiss her nose as the doors slide open. ‘Everything else will be unhurried and deliberate. If you want something faster,’ I bend to whisper in her ear and she gives a gratifying shiver, ‘you’ll have to say so.’
Her lips part when she sees the suite, and she’s speechless for several minutes, standing in the doorway and scanning from one side to the other and back. Finally, she leaves the entrance, tentatively, and moves into the room. ‘This is all … ours? This is one room?’
I shrug, enjoying her amazement. ‘It’s a suite.’
Within minutes, we’re enjoying an unobstructed view of a breathtaking sunset over the bay – judging by the fact that she seems to stop breathing, watching it. I couldn’t have timed this better if I’d actually scheduled our arrival time to coincide with the sun’s measured retreat.
True to my word, I set her up at the desk and let her do her thing while I put our stuff away and order a dinner of champagne, Nasi Goreng and Singapore Noodles – to be delivered in an hour and a half.
‘Time’s up.’ I lean over her and nuzzle her cheek. ‘I’ve given you a very generous half-hour of study time.’
She leans her head back on my shoulder and closes her eyes. ‘I can’t only study for half an hour – I’m going to fail …’
I pull her chair away from the desk and kiss her behind the ear, eliciting a soft moan. ‘If you’re a good girl, I’ll allow you another half-hour tomorrow.’
‘I’m always a good girl, Reid,’ she says, and the ear I’m attending to warms under my tongue. ‘I mean … uh …’
‘No explanation needed,’ I chuckle, kissing down her neck before releasing her hair from the clip and slipping her sweatshirt off. Underneath, she’s wearing a white tank with a scooped neckline trimmed in lace – which I can see straight down from my vantage point behind her. A sweatshirt … with this hidden beneath it?
‘Jesus, Dori.’ My head is swimming with wanting her, and I’m determined to pay her back in kind, and then some. Cupping my hands over her shoulders and sliding forward, my thumbs follow the line of her collarbone while my fingers brush over the curves of her br**sts. ‘You’re perfect.’ She starts to object and I place two fingers over her mouth, slipping my other hand into the top of her white lace bra. She arches back and gasps, giving me better access to her warm skin, her heart beating against the palm of my hand.
Pulling her up and kicking the chair out of the way, I turn her and am kissing her deeply before she can take a breath. Her tank follows the sweatshirt to the floor. Gripping her hips, I ask, ‘Shower before, during or after? Since you’re the birthday girl, your wish is my command.’