Wild Zone (Rough Riders Hockey 4)

“Cute. Sweet. Hmm…”

“And you’ve got the mouth of a goddess. That’s the best I’ve ever had, Lex. Seriously.”

“You’ve got the best cock I’ve ever sucked. Seriously.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m leaving now.”

He pulled her back in, put a hand to her face, and whispered, “Knock that big designer on her—or his—ass today.”

“Thanks.” She kissed him one more time before she straightened and adjusted her clothes. Then slipped out of his room.

Jax struggled to see more of her as she opened the door. But with the light coming from the hall, he couldn’t catch sight of anything more than when she’d come in—a killer silhouette and the gleam of blonde hair.

And, hell, it couldn’t have mattered less.

Chapter 10

Lexi tried hard to focus on the women sitting around the table with her. They’d been doing the casual chatting thing while they’d waited outside for their table at Gotham Bar and Grill in Manhattan, but now that they were inside the ornate space, Lexi found herself craving simplicity and relaxation.

When she’d been told by one of Galliano’s assistants that they would be having their lunch meeting here, Lexi had been relieved. Even pleased. With her caliber of clientele, she spent way too much time in these fancy settings and had really been looking forward to a different atmosphere for a business meeting for a change.

But, there was nothing “bar and grill” about this place. Dark wood, elegant fabrics, and pristine china. Extravagant floral arrangements that surely cost the monthly rent on her Sunset Boulevard studio. Starched waiters with impeccable manners. Patrons in Brooks Brothers suits and Dolce and Gabbana dresses.

The Gotham Bar and Grill was exactly what Lexi had originally dreaded. Though, she had to admit, Martina Galliano and her assistants, Beth and Casey, made it seem as if the restaurant was nothing more formal than a neighborhood café.

“I haven’t gotten a chance to see your designs in American Bride,” Casey said, drawing Lexi’s attention from a gilded mirror across the restaurant the size of her loft. The dark-haired, dark-eyed woman cast a sidelong smirk at Beth. “Someone’s been hogging the advanced copy you sent.”

“I’m not hogging it,” Beth said. “I told you I wasn’t going to let you get Cheetoh dust on the pages.”

Casey gasped, but grinned. “You lie.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Martina said, grinning from directly across the table from Lexi. “Why do you think I haven’t shared mine with you?”

“Fine, fine.” Casey lifted her brows and folded her hands with an expression of mock insult. “I’ll just have to wait for a week until it hits the shelves to get my own copy. But don’t be surprised if I call in sick that day.”

“I’ve told the girls all about how I’ve been watching you grow your business and develop a very sophisticated style for years,” Martina said.

The older woman hadn’t stopped complimenting Lexi since she’d hugged her on the sidewalk out in front of the restaurant like they were old friends. She was used to hearing customers, fashion reporters, and media rave about her work, but to hear Martina Galliano say these things to her would be the equivalent of Rubi being showered with praise by the likes of Steve Wozniak.

Martina was handsome—in that exotic Mediterranean way. Not beautiful, but attractive. And stylish, though Lexi could tell the woman lived a tug-of-war between her reputed natural tendency toward conservatism and the current, youthful trend of self-expression. The cut of her suit was too flippant and careless for her age, the extremely bright eggplant silk blouse a forced color spot beneath the cool silvery-blue suit jacket.

“I think the magazine might have been distributed to select locations early,” Lexi told Casey, reaching down for her portfolio beside her chair. “It wasn’t supposed to be circulated until next week, but I found it on stands in the airport. You can have this one.”

Casey gasped. “Really?”

“Of course.”

Casey squealed and clapped her hands. Lexi laughed.

“As you can tell,” Martina told Lexi, “they’re very excited about this new line.”

Casey thanked Lexi, her dark eyes caressing the image on the cover lovingly. She pulled in a gasp. “Look at that detail.” She pulled the magazine close and inspected the photograph. “Is that appliqué?”

“No,” Lexi said. “It’s all hand sewn.”

Casey’s eyes rounded. Her mouth curved in an O as she gazed at Lexi. “Hand. Sewn.”

Lexi grinned. “Thousands of Swarovski crystals in six different colors to create the ombré effect in the pattern.”

Casey’s eyes grew wider. Her mouth rounder. “Thousands?”