Unintended (The Sin Trilogy 5)

“Would you like me to check to see if there’s an opening with a single diner?”

In a normal world, I would assume she’s referring to a seat but I’m not so sure about this place. “I’m sorry. This is my first time at Indulge. Can you expand on what you mean?”

“Some single diners may choose to offer available seating at their table to other lone guests. I can see if there’s an open seat that way.” I’m certain splitting a table during dinner doesn’t hold a candle to all the other things that get shared around here.

I don’t think I can wait two or three hours for food. “What is your opinion on the speed of room service?”

“It’s hard to say. I’m guessing at least ninety minutes.” Then I’m not much better off. And I went to the trouble of getting ready.

“I’ll give this single diner thing a try.” I’m not the least bit excited about sitting with a complete stranger. It’s weird.

“Let’s see what we can find for you.” Michaela studies the computer screen again. “You’re in luck. I have one single diner agreeing to share. Right this way.”

Quiet, sultry jazz tunes tantalize guests. The tables are dressed in white and crystal while little pops of red décor scatter the room. Elegant black and white damask wallpaper covers its walls. Enormous chandeliers provide soft light, and the glossy black marble tiles underfoot beautifully complete Consume’s décor. Mesmerizing.

White. Black. Red. If sin had a color palette, this would be it.

I stare at the sensual black and white art on the walls as I’m led to my table. I’m so engrossed by the nudie photos that I bump into a server carrying a full tray of food. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

This server looks so young. I’m certain he must be at least twenty-one to work in an establishment like this, but I swear he doesn’t look a day over sixteen.

“No. Pardon me, Miss.” Ah. He has a lovely Jamaican accent.

“It was all my fault.”

The hostess gestures toward the empty seat. “Kevin is your server. He’ll be with you shortly. Enjoy your dinner.”

“Thank you.”

I settle into my seat and observe the man sitting across from me. One look and I’m able to form an opinion: He’s too damn handsome for his own good. Thick, dark brown hair. Hazel eyes surrounded by lush black lashes. Rosy cheeks. Full, pink lips.

His rakish smile completes the package. “You sound just like a Georgia peach.”

He’s hit the nail on the head. How unsettling. “I’m sorry?”

“Your accent. Can’t mistake it for anything else.” His voice is deep. Smooth. Southern just like me.

“You sound a little peachy yourself.”

His smile broadens, deepening the dimples in each of his cheeks. “Guilty as charged. Buckhead, born and bred.”

Buckhead. Born. Bred. The three B’s.

Buckhead is an affluent uptown district of Atlanta, which tells me two things: this guy is probably wealthy. And by default, he’s likely a total jackass.

He tilts his head to the side and lifts his brows. “And you?”

“Buford.” I say the word and immediately regret it. I should have lied. He has no business knowing where I’m from.

“Been to Buford many times.”

Buckhead and Buford are close, only about forty minutes apart. I’m not sure how I feel about meeting someone who lives so close.

I need to chill. He’s likely feeling a little uneasy about me as well.

“I occasionally shop in Buckhead. My best friend and I love their boutiques.” It’s rare that I’m able to afford anything so I mostly look when I go with Meredith.

He holds out his hand over the table. “I’m Beau Emerson.”

I consider lying about who I am. This guy’s well within stalker distance but I wasn’t blessed with thinking fast on my feet. “Anna James Bennett.”

My double name is confusing for people since James can be both a man’s name and a last name. “My friends and family call me Anna James. Or AJ.”

“Very nice to meet you. I’m pleased to share a table with such a lovely woman.”

Is that a move? I’m not certain, but it’s probably best to nip this in the bud now. Beau Emerson doesn’t need to be under the impression this is anything but two people sharing a table because of a crowding issue. “I appreciate your interest, but no thank you.”

He leans back in his chair, his arms crossed over what I’m guessing is a well-built chest beneath his white linen shirt. He studies my face for a moment before a lopsided grin appears. “Miss Bennett. That wasn’t even close to being a proposition.”

Heat pulses in my face. I would love to crawl beneath this table. “I’m sorry.” I can barely breath the words through my embarrassment.

I feel obligated to explain. “I’m not familiar with the typical practices here; I’ve never been to a place like this.”

“Clearly.” Both of his dimples are back on display now; I’m amusing him. I’m not sure if I should be angry or embarrassed.

Humiliation wins.

I’m normally confident in all I do, but I’m out of my element. This is his world, and I’m an outsider. “You find my ignorance entertaining.”

“You’re wrong. I find your inexperience intriguing.”

“What part of that could you possibly find intriguing?”

“You’re new to hedonism.”

Oh. I get it now. He sees me as a newcomer. Fresh meat. A shiny new toy. “You’ve got this all wrong. I’m not here to participate. This is a free Jamaican vacation for me.

A treat from my best friends.”

“Your friends brought you to a place where crazy stuff happens. And by that, I mean lewd sexual acts.”

“Meredith and Grayson warned me.”

“Are your friends trying to recruit you into a polyamory relationship with them?”

Polyamory is the hard-core stuff. Meredith says she and Grayson will never go there. Too much commitment for them. “Oh, God no! Meredith has been my best friend for nine years. She and her husband just wanted to do something nice for me.”

“Right.” He’s wearing a different kind of smile now, the skeptical kind.

“I know what you’re thinking but they’re really not.”

“If you say so.”

I don’t know why I feel the need to convince him. “I had a shitastrophe in my life. This trip is their divorce gift to me. They thought the sun and sand would do me some good.”

“Has it?”

“I don’t know. We only arrived a few hours ago.”

“Then welcome to Indulge, where your fantasies meet reality.”

“Thank you.” I think.

Our conversation is briefly interrupted when our server appears. Good thing I already know what I want because I’ve not even looked at the menu.

After placing my order, I resume my study of the nude photography on the walls. They’re actually tasteful and elegant.

“Like what you see?”

Oddly, I do. “I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re lovely.”

“Third one on the left. That’s me.”

I search the walls and find the one he’s referring to. Holy shizzle. That erection is enormous.

I swallow. “It’s very nice.” Shit. That was a dumb thing to say. “The picture, I mean. It’s artful.”

He bursts into laughter. “I’m kidding. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

The heat has returned to my cheeks. “Well, aren’t you the comedian?”

“I’m a good-time guy who enjoys a laugh. And that was a fine one.”

“At my expense.” I think he enjoys laughing at me.

“Sorry. Not sorry.”

“Right.”

Kevin returns with our drinks, a pineapple-coconut martini for me and a draft beer for Beau.