Speak Low (Speak Easy 2) - Page 37

The room ran the entire width of the hotel and was two stories tall. The night air had been hot and humid but inside the lobby was cool and airy. Gooseflesh broke out on my arms, and I was instantly sorry I had not worn gloves, both for modesty and for warmth. As we crossed the marble floor, our heels clicking elegantly, I craned my neck and looked around. The wall facing the park had five huge arched windows and opposite these were balconies with wrought iron railings. The cavernous space was mostly empty of people at this late hour, but still I chewed my lip and dropped my eyes to my clothing. The dress I’d so loved for its daring earlier tonight seemed inappropriate here in the well-lit luxury of the Statler Hotel lobby. Enzo sensed my discomfort and put an arm around me.

“You’re a vision,” he whispered in my ear.

“I—I’m…just a little bit chilled,” I stuttered. Warily I eyed the five huge chandeliers looming over my head.

He squeezed my arm, and I thought he might offer me his coat, but he didn’t.

Maybe there’s a rule about men’s dress, I thought. In which case there may be one about women’s dress as well, and I doubted my bare shoulders would pass muster. Along the east wall was a massive oak counter, from behind which two pairs of eyes watched us intently. I glanced at Enzo, but he didn’t appear concerned, not even bothering to look their way. We walked by potted palms and elegant spindly-legged furniture toward the back of the room, where a short corridor led to a bank of four elevators book-ended by two marble-lined staircases.

As we waited for a car, I kept my legs pressed tightly together and tried to keep my knees from knocking. Precisely what had me so nervous was hard to say. Was I afraid that I wouldn’t be able to fend him off if he tried something? Was I scared that my willpower wouldn’t be enough to resist his physical overtures? Or was there, beneath it all, an actual fear for my safety? After all, no one knew where I was, and I was allowing a man I knew to be obsessed with power and control to lead me to an undisclosed part of a huge hotel.

“Enzo,” I began nervously. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. Maybe if—”

“Hush now, darling.” The elevator car arrived and the doors opened before us. He nudged me in front of him, took me by the arms where he’d grabbed me before and whispered in my ear. “You and I have never been a good idea.” He steered me into the car and told the operator to take us to the ninth floor.

As the elevator began to ascend, Enzo kept his hands on me. We stood behind the operator, who kept his eyes on the doors in front of him, and a few seconds into the ride, Enzo’s right hand slid from my arm across my chest, slowly, possessively. His palm, fingers spread wide, came to rest on my left breast, and he snaked his left arm across my stomach, pulling me back against him.

“I want you.” His lips formed the words right at my ear, barely a whisper. He was hard already, his solid erection pressing into the small of my back.

Oh, God.

This might be more difficult than I thought.

Gina. Wedding. Packard. Secrecy. Lies. I reminded myself of the myriad reasons I had to be angry with Enzo, and it worked. When the doors opened, he released me and I stepped out of the car. He followed me into the hall, and when the elevator doors closed, he reached for me again.

“No.” I held up one palm toward him. “First, tell me what we’re doing here.”

“All right. Follow me.”

I trailed him down a long carpeted corridor, passing doors on both sides. He finally stopped at a set of double doors straight ahead of us and pulled a key from his pocket. After unlocking the door on the left, he pushed it open and gestured for me to enter first. “After you.”

I walked into a dark room, but a moment later Enzo flipped a switch and an overhead light came on. As he shut the door, I moved deeper into an elegantly furnished parlor with a large window opposite the door. I went to it and pushed the filmy white curtains aside, peering down onto Grand Circus Park. Spinning around, I took in the sofa and chair upholstered in gold and brown stripes, the end tables and their lamps dripping with rust-colored fringe, and the low coffee table, upon which sat an amber glass ashtray. The carpet felt thick under my feet.

“Well, what do you think?” Enzo asked.

“Is this your apartment?” A glance to my left revealed another doorway, through which I glimpsed the shadowy outline of a double bed.

“It was.” He walked toward me and I backed into the windowsill. When he reached me, pressing his body flush against mine, he leaned back slightly at the waist and dangled the key between us. “Now it’s your apartment.”

“My apartment!”

“Mmhm.” He braced his hands behind me and I leaned back. His face hovered above mine, and I looked at his lips. They weren’t as full or sensuous as Joey’s, but their fine edges and sharp peaks were beautiful, and he was an expert at using them on my body. My insides heated up quickly, and when he lowered his mouth to mi

ne, I let him kiss me. But I didn’t put my arms around him, and I kept my lips closed.

“Want to see the bedroom?” He toyed with the straps of my dress.

“No.” I elbowed my way out of his reach and put some distance between us.

Sighing, he faced me with an exasperated look on his face.

“Don’t give me that look, Enzo. I’m still angry with you. I only came here to hear what you have to say about Joey.”

He pressed his lips together. “Why are you always so worried about him?”

“Because he’s my friend, and I dragged him into this mess to begin with.”

“Really. You instructed him to hijack those trucks and later advised him to steal the opium from the load?”

Tags: Melanie Harlow Speak Easy Romance
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