Need Me (Mess with Me 3)

So if this is all I can have, then I want it all.

2

Discreetly, I breathe into my hand. Meeting someone, especially someone like her, was the last thing I expected when I came out tonight. I’d just needed some fresh air away from my hotel room and all the work I hadn’t finished.

But now here I am, alone with a captivating, slightly insane woman and I desperately need a toothbrush.

“So, uh, I’ll be right out. Just going to use the restroom.”

We’re in one of the Fitz’s standard rooms. Ariana suggested we get a room at the hotel and I definitely wasn’t going to bring her up to the penthouse suite I usually shared with my brother when we were in town. Clearly she wasn’t kidding when she said she liked to get right to the point.

She also had a system. The bartender had thoroughly reviewed my identification before nodding at her. His approval apparently meant something. Or he was her safety contact if anything should happen to her. Both I could understand. The guy had glared at me so long I felt my life flash before my eyes.

“Maybe I’ll sage the room while you’re gone. You know, get rid of any bad vibes.”

I can’t help but return her grin. She’s enjoying this and so am I, although I’ll be damned if I know why.

Once I’m safely behind the closed bathroom door, I rub my sweaty palms together. In an expensive hotel like this there should be complimentary toiletries, even in the basic rooms. I see the usual array of soaps and hair products on the counter next to a stack of towels.

No toothbrush.

When I bend down to look under the vanity there’s nothing but toilet paper. And only a paltry two extra rolls at that.

I suppose budget cuts have affected all businesses in this economy.

This woman is every man’s fantasy. Like a walking wet dream and completely opposed to seeing me after today. When I asked her for her number, she just raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and shook her head.

On her, even rejection is sexy.

And I’m going to have to go back out there with stale breath and a churning stomach.

This is not the time to screw things up. I have to get it together. So why the hell am I so wound up? Being with her feels different somehow and it’s throwing me off my game in a major way.

Working for my famous older brother has its perks. The name Philippe might not ring any bells but due to Andre’s success in the fashion world our last name, Lavin, has become synonymous with style. I get to travel the globe representing our company and convincing buyers across continents they need to carry our clothes.

We live life in the fast lane and I’ve always loved it.

Until lately.

There is a time to overthink things and a time for action. I can analyze the details later. Right now, I need to go peel the clothes off the perfect little treat waiting in the bed and show her why Italian men have an international reputation for being excellent lovers.

When I come out of the bathroom, I pause in the doorway.

My fiery little devil is curled up on the bed sleeping.

I pull the covers over her gently. Spying a notepad next to the bed, I quickly write a note before I change my mind.

You needed sleep more than anything I could give you.

I scribbled my phone number underneath.

As I close the door to the hotel room behind me, I am a mass of confusion. I just left a beautiful troublemaker to sleep alone.

What the hell is wrong with me?

But there had been something in her eyes when she’d declared that all men were a disappointment. Maybe it made me a fool but I wanted to be the man who surprised her.

Or at least not the man who proved her theory right once again.