Green eyes blink at me, as wide as the ones that looked at me from behind the dresser. As if I’ve trapped her there. As if I’m the only one who can get her out. “Ah. Yes.” She laughs a little. “What gave it away?”
A million things, but mostly the fact that Bea looks so skittish I think I could spook her if I move too fast. I nod toward a painting on the wall, which features a smaller version of Minette in pointillism. “I assume it’s not standard concierge service to paint a masterpiece of the guest’s pet. Though if it is you really have to mention that in the Expedia review.”
She laughs, the sound light as air, making my chest feel full. “I’m guessing Olivier would rather paint her than clean her litterbox.”
So she’s on a first-name basis with the concierge. It means she’s been living here for a while, most likely, which is interesting because she can’t be older than twenty. The high-necked dress is strange for someone that young, but it’s surprisingly sexy. It conforms to her figure, emphasizing her curves and making my blood run hot.
Her smile fades. “It’s not a problem, is it? Me living here?”
As quickly as that, my profession fills the air like smoke. Like a bomb went off.
“It’s no problem,” I assure her. The agency will send me to a hotel room as easily as a client’s high-rise condo. There’s no difference as long as the credit card charge goes through.
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A male escort. His virgin client. What happens when one night isn’t enough?
I’m an escort, which means this date is nothing more than a mutually enjoyable transaction. There shouldn’t be any surprises, not for one as jaded as me, but when I walk into the penthouse suite of L’Etoile, everything changes.
1) For one thing, Bea is heartstoppingly gorgeous. Pale green eyes and endless freckles. Curves I want to spend all night exploring, as if her body was made for me.
2) Her innocence makes me want to use my entire inventory of bedroom tricks on her and then invent a few more.
3) Except that… she’s a virgin.
I can initiate her into the world of desire without letting her get attached, can’t I? A few hours of tutoring, and at the end of the night a small fortune will be deposited into my bank account.
But once I realize one night with her won’t be enough, I’m the one who’s screwed.