Sinful Proposition

He returned to the conference room less than ten minutes later, finding Tempest exactly where he’d left her. She glanced back up when he entered, her still unreadable gaze taking in his much cleaner appearance, though she didn’t comment, and he decided to get right down to business.

“I have the plans over here,” he said, indicating the drafting table at the far end of the room.

She stood up, followed, and came up beside him as he unrolled the drawings and spread them out on the large surface. She was standing so close that every breath he took was filled with whatever light fragrance she wore. Something with notes of vanilla, jasmine, and sandalwood. Soft, feminine, but way too alluring to his senses.

Trying like hell not to let everything about Tempest distract him, he tapped a finger on the large sheet of paper laid out in front of them, drawing her attention there, too. “Based on the plans I pulled from the city, here is a general idea of what the bar will look like in terms of design and placement on the first level.”

“Oooh, I like this layout,” she said, making him ridiculously happy with her validation. “This is very close to what I envisioned for the bar and lounge, and you left plenty of space for seating areas and couches, which I’ve already ordered. I want everything to be sleek and modern and sophisticated.”

Her growing excitement made him smile and eased them into a comfortable discussion of the floor plan and her ideas for fixtures and where she planned to put them so he could run electrical, and he made notes of changes and additions she wanted. The woman definitely had a vision in mind, which made his job much easier than working with an indecisive client.

Then he showed her the drawings for the hotel rooms on the second and third levels of the structure, each one with an adjoining bath. Every room looked square and basic at this point, and it was up to Tempest to use her decorating skills to transform a boring, plain room into whatever concept she had in mind.

Which made him curious about her unique idea. “You said that these hotel rooms will provide couples with a romantic getaway. How so?”

“Each room will have a certain theme,” she said, her amber eyes sparkling enthusiastically as she explained. “Some of them will be fun and flirty and whimsical, like having a classic heart-shaped bed and one of those iconic champagne glass hot tubs. I also have an idea for a Pretty Woman suite. Others will be more romantic, such as Grecian or Arabian Nights themed, or just rooms that are glamorously decorated that make a couple feel like they’ve escaped into their own little world. And of course, I’ll have a few sexier rooms, something pirate-themed, a suite with a dungeon décor, and a leather red room à la Christian Grey, minus the whips and chains unless the guests bring them,” she said on a laugh. “I think women will really love that concept.”

He had no clue who Christian Grey was, but the description of that last room definitely intrigued him, but he kept the thought to himself. “We’ll make any adjustments to these rooms as we go along, and now that I have your initial approval on the plans, I think we’re finished here for the time being.”

She nodded her agreement. “Escrow closes next week,” she said, giving him an update on the purchase, which he knew she and her brothers had paid cash for so they’d bypassed a more lengthy and complicated transaction. “As soon as I have the keys, we can meet at the building so you can see the inside to take measurements or any pictures you need, and we can talk about more specific details of construction.”

He rolled up the drawings and secured them with a rubber band. “Yes, that would be the next step, and from there I’ll get permits secured and supplies purchased and delivered to get the renovation underway.”

They were done, their meeting over. He expected Tempest to collect her purse and leave, but instead she met his gaze, stood her ground a few feet from him, and fearlessly tackled what he’d been avoiding.

“So, now that business is out of the way, are we going to finally address the elephant in the room?” she asked, that sexy, sassy attitude of hers like a precise stroke to his dick. “Or are you going to keep pretending as though that night never happened?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Leave it to bold, daring Tempest not to mince words, Remy thought. To get right to the point and force them to discuss that evening two months ago, since he’d avoided doing so since leaving her apartment that night.

He exhaled a harsh breath and dragged his hand along his jaw. Bottom line, he knew his behavior had been inexcusable and borderline barbaric, and as much as he didn’t want to talk about what, specifically, had driven him to go wild with her, he did owe her an apology at the very least.

As she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to answer, her brow arched expectantly. Thank God the vulnerable emotions he’d seen in her eyes that night were no longer there, but he didn’t doubt for a second that she’d been very hurt by his actions.

“I’m sorry about what happened between us,” he said sincerely, trying his best to smooth things over. “I can’t explain it, but something that night put me in the wrong headspace.” He refused to say what had triggered his mental shift, and for now it was the best he could offer her. “I apologize for coming on so strong. I never should have touched you.”

Her mouth pursed with irritation and she shook her head indignantly, looking more offended than appeased by his regretful statement. “You really are an asshole.”

“Yeah, I already know that,” he said, not understanding why she was getting so upset with him. “I really am sorry, Tempest.”

She narrowed her gaze, a soft little sound of disgust passing her lips. “Oh, my God, Remy, how can you be so damn obtuse? You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” he asked cautiously.

She huffed out a breath, her eyes flashing with exasperation. “I don’t want you to apologize for finally giving in to the attraction between us, no matter what the cause, because we both have wanted each other for a while now,” she said, stabbing him in the chest with her finger. “I want you to be sorry that you walked out on me without looking back. That you gave me the best orgasm of my life, then all but ignored me and what we did for two goddamn months.”

He opened his mouth in shock, then snapped it shut, trying not to think about the best orgasm of my life part of her comment, and instead focused on the section about him walking out on her and pretending as though it never happened. “I’m definitely sorry for that, too. I honestly never meant to go so far with you that night, and I was way too rough and forceful with you.”

“No, you weren’t,” she immediately refuted. “I’m a grown, consenting adult, and I would have told you to stop if I didn’t enjoy what you were doing to me and how you were doing it. But the truth is, Remy, I liked it.” She stepped toward him, and bold as she pleased, she tucked her fingers into the collar of his T-shirt and pulled him close enough so that when she tipped her head up to his, her lips were only a few

inches away. “I liked it a lot, or else I wouldn’t have come as hard as I did all over your hand. And I want more.”

Remy’s head was spinning, her brazen, unashamed words like a vise around his aching dick. Never had a woman ever been so direct with him about what she wanted, not even his ex-wife, and Jesus, it was such a fucking turn-on. “Tempest.” Her name came out on a low, warning growl as he fisted his hands at his sides.

A sinfully seductive smile curved her mouth, as if she knew he was so close to his restraint snapping like a weak rubber band. “You can’t tell me that I was the only one who liked it, that the pleasure was all one-sided, because we both know that would be a lie. I felt how hard and thick your cock was, and I saw all that heat and lust in your eyes before you walked out.”

“God, it was fucking hot, and so were you,” he admitted on a groan. “But the truth is, I am not the guy for you.”