Not even her sharp black business suit hides her luscious body. Her body…goddamn that body. Men fought wars over women like her in centuries gone by. They tore the world apart trying to claim them as their own. Nations toppled; alliances shattered. Hell, Troy fell to myth. For centuries, we believed Virgil's story was make-believe…right up until we found the ruins of that legendary city in modern-day Turkey. But I'm no Paris and Piper is no Helen. She outshines her by miles.
I was spellbound by her that first night. Everyone in the bar was there for one reason—to hook up. Not me. Not Piper. I was there with Justice Foster, a fellow billionaire who wanted to talk to me about a business venture. She was oblivious to everything except the textbooks spread across her table. That single-minded focus turned me on. Fuck, everything about her turned me.
The way she blew that single, stubborn piece of hair out of her face. The roundness of her cheek. How she tilted her head when she was considering something carefully, and the way she pursed her lips when she didn't like what she read. She was perfectly at ease in her own skin, perfectly at home in the bar. She was an enchanting combination of confident woman and shy lamb. That fucking fascinated me.
I'm just as spellbound now. Only she isn't comfortable in this lobby like she was in that bar. As she types on the computer, she nibbles on her bottom lip as if she's anxious. Her face is pale, her back ramrod straight. When she thinks no one is looking, her face falls into lines of worry before she quickly schools it again. I don't like it. Not one bit. Whoever put that fucking look on her face is going to answer to me.
I take off across the lobby in her direction.
"Piper," I rasp, stopping at the desk in front of her.
Her head flies up, her green eyes locking on mine. For a split second, sheer joy fills them, as if she's happier than she's ever been to see me standing there. And then she gasps and jumps backward a step, all the color draining from her face.
"W-what are you doing here?" she asks.
"I came to see you."
"You need to leave. Now," she says, looking everywhere except at me.
Even though I know why she feels the way she does, hearing it hurts. To her, I'm the asshole who used and discarded her like she meant nothing. She has no idea that I've been in hell every day without her. She has no idea that I fell in love with her that first night, or that I turned Nashville upside down looking for her.
"I'm not going anywhere," I say quietly, my heart in my throat. "Not until we talk."
"We have nothing to talk about," she snaps, her color slowly recovering. Pink seeps back into her cheeks, her face flushing. With anger? With desire? God, I hope it's the latter. Does she remember what it feels like to have me inside her, fucking my way into her soul? Does she remember the way she cried out for me, pleading for more? I certainly do. I've jacked my cock raw to those memories.
"We have plenty to talk about," I disagree.
"I…" For a minute, a look of overwhelming panic crosses her face. It's so powerful, it's startling. It's almost as if she's genuinely terrified of what I want to talk about. And then she gives her head a sharp shake. "We've said everything that needs to be said, Cortez."
"The hell we have," I growl. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me."
"I don't want to talk to you!" she cries.
There aren't many other people in the lobby, but all eyes are on us. An older woman near the elevators narrows her eyes on me, her face pinched. Judging by the nametag on her suit, she works here too. She doesn't start in our direction, but it's only a matter of time before she sends security.
Fuck my life.
I take a deep breath and expel it sharply.
"I'd like to check-in," I say to Piper, going for plan B.
"What?" She gapes at me like I've lost my mind.
"I'd like to check-in," I repeat.
She blinks those long lashes, confusion filling her seafoam green eyes. "You want to check-in?" she says. "Here?"
"This is a hotel, is it not?" I give her a tiny smile.
It only pisses her off more. The color in her cheeks deepens from pink to red, irritation flashing in her eyes. "I know what you're doing," she hisses under her breath, "and it isn't going to work. I don't care how charming you are, I'm not sleeping with you again. Especially not in the hotel where I work, Cortez."
"You're pissed at me, and I'm going to let you be pissed at me because you don't know what really happened that morning," I growl. "But I saw the way you looked at me when I walked in, Piper. You may want to hate me, but you don't. Your body still aches for me, pretty baby. You still dream about me. It's killing you that you're not in my arms right now. I know because it's fucking killing me too."
"Is not," she lies. The tremble in her voice gives her away though.
"Yeah, it is," I murmur, reaching in my pocket for my wallet. "You're mine, sweet little Piper. You've been mine for two months. And you will be sleeping with me again. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but as soon as we sort this shit out, I plan to give you exactly what you need."
"All I need is for you to disappear again like you did two months ago," she snaps.
"I went back for you."