“Jesus, made of stone or not, Olivia Shade is fuckin’ gorgeous so I’m gettin’ hard just thinkin’ about her writing her number on my palm. Seein’ as I’m at work, not even gonna think about the other.”

And Nick was not going to think about why he immediately and unfathomably felt pissed at Turner telling him something about Olivia fucking Shade was making him go hard.

Turner wasn’t done.

“And if I was acknowledging the existence of this alleged sex club, I’d ask how much VIP membership costs.”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars a year.”

“Fuck.”

“Lucky you know the owner.”

“No I don’t.”

That made Nick chuckle.

“Stay sharp,” Turner ordered.

“Later,” Nick returned.

They disengaged.

Nick tossed his phone to the counter and moved through his place to his bathroom to take a shower.

He was at his desk in his office three and a half hours later when he texted her.

Hotel Teatro. Six o’clock. I’ll text the room number later.

He did not identify himself.

She made him wait.

In fact, she didn’t reply until he’d sent his assistant to check in, got the room number and texted it to her.

Which was at four fifteen.

And when she did, she only texted, 6:00.

That was it.

A cool customer.

But absolutely not made of stone.

Chapter Five

Funny

Olivia

8:15 a.m. – Nine Hours Earlier

Sitting at my desk, I wasn’t working at my computer.

I was staring at my cell phone.

This was stupid.

Insane, really.

But I was and I was doing it in hopes he’d call or at least text.

As I’d been doing since I got home last night, late, wanting him to say something, start something, give me a reason to explain why I believed, why I responded to him the way I’d done.

This was insane too and not simply because, to start something, something minimally real, something somewhat normal, would be dangerous but also because I’d been the woman sitting next to him at a sex club who got up and made my way to him, making it clear what I wanted.

A quick, hard fuck with a stranger.

Did something real or normal start like that?

I had no idea.

I just doubted it did.

But I was wanting it, hoping for it, glancing then staring then glaring at my phone like I could make magic happen and get it.

And I needed to stop doing that.

Perhaps in the heat of the moment in an intimately lit sex club after getting an orgasm from a woman he’d never met, Nick Sebring would think he wanted more.

In the light of day, he probably thought differently. And even in the world in which he lived, if he didn’t already have a steady woman who I’d assisted him in cheating on last night, he’d be looking for one who was absolutely not like me.