Loving The Temperamental Adonis
Chapter 287 - 25

Chapter 287: Chapter 25

The suite Liam had chosen was on the top floor of the hotel at the end of a hall. One of its double doors was slightly open, and a plaque on the wall beside it said it was the Presidential Suite.

Liam opened the door all the way for her, and Rayne walked past him into a large foyer. She turned left and gasped. The outside walls of the big suite were all glass giving a clear, wide view of the Maranta island to the west and north. The carpet was the same aqua color as the sea, the furniture was mostly white, and big vases of tropical flowers added bright colors to the setting.

Near the foyer was a formal dining table with six chairs. Directly in the center of the suite, facing the glass walls, was an enormous bed covered in fluffy white sheets and a mountain of pillows.

It was situated so that the occupants could lie in bed and view the Maranta. In the ceiling, muted cove lighting mirrored the outline of the bed, bathing it in a pale glow. The lighting was positioned so that the occupants of the bed could see what they were doing to each other.

Rayne yanked her gaze from the bed and moved a few steps forward.

Beyond the bed, on the other side of the room in front of the glass wall, was a grouping of white sofas and chairs covered with plump pillows and arranged in a U so that they all looked out across the Maranta.

"This is.. beautiful." Rayne said.

"I’m glad you’re pleased," Liam replied, walking toward the large, enclosed balcony that opened off the western side of the suite.

A man who Rayne assumed was the butler was standing out there at a table beneath an umbrella, pouring wine into glasses.

Liam turned to Rayne. "Take a few minutes to look around while I see if Mr. Ramirez, the butler has done anything about food out there."

"You sound like you’re starving," Rayne teased.

He turned, and Rayne felt the full seductive force of his slow white smile and direct gaze. "I have a very large appetite, Rayne."

His meaning was unmistakable, and Rayne’s entire body tensed, mostly from nervousness and mostly from anticipation.

He had been so preoccupied and distant in the car that she’d wondered if he was having second thoughts about going to bed with her.

After his last remark, she wondered now if he planned to have lunch with her in it, in order to save time. Belatedly realizing that she was standing there as if she’d taken root in the carpet, Rayne wandered slowly along in his wake.

A large wet bar with four stools was positioned near the open balcony doors. In the wall to the right of the bar was an arched entrance into another room, which turned out to be a bathroom-dressing room.

In the center of the bathroom, beneath a domed skylight, four steps descended into a huge sunken tub lined with mosaic tiles and surrounded by pillars. A shower large enough for five or six people was enclosed in glass on three sides with shower heads at various heights and an array of faucets on the remaining wall.

Rayne put her purse down on one of the vanities; then she used the bathroom. She was drying her hands when she looked down at her purse and Max’s voice mail came back to haunt her.

She always knew he cared a lot about her, but she never thought he would be so worried and scared for her that he would actually propose marriage over the phone—in a voicemail!

It was such a touching and out-of-character thing for him to do. Until now, he had let her avoid the topic of marriage, and Rayne always thought that was because he was happy with how things were—a life full of work, a woman he liked, and as many golf games as he could fit in.

But maybe that wasn’t true at all.

Maybe he cared so deeply for her that he’d been willing to postpone a marriage he wanted very badly because he didn’t want to pressure her into making a commitment until she was completely ready.

What a generous, selfless, tender way for him to behave. Rayne shook her head, trying to clear away the guilt she was feeling; then she picked up her purse and carried it with her into the main room.

She put it on the barstool at the end of the bar, started to walk toward the balcony doors, stopped, and turned back around.

Earlier, when she’d checked her voice mail, she’d had three unheard messages, but she’d listened to only two of them.

The third message was probably from Harry at the restaurant. If so, she really ought to listen to it. With her back to the balcony, she reached into her purse, grasped the phone, and then let it go.

If the message was from Max, she couldn’t bear to hear it. Not now.

Not when she’d just checked into a hotel with another man to whom she was drawn so deeply, and on so many confusing levels, that she couldn’t begin to understand what was happening.

All she knew for certain was that she’d felt something profound and magical last night, and she wanted to experience it again, all of it: the desperate longing that came from being kissed by Liam; the exquisite joy of being crushed in his arms with his body straining against hers; and the unexplainable sense of profound closeness she felt at times just looking at him or listening to him speak.

But there was no denying that she would regret this later on, which made everything she was thinking and planning to do seem terribly rash. Totally reckless. A little insane.

Tension and indecision tightened the muscles at the back of her neck into a knot. Thinking she might be on the verge of getting another headache despite the pills she was taking, Rayne reached up to rub her nape; then she pulled the elastic band out of her hair and shook it loose.

Standing on the balcony, Liam watched Rayne’s thick hair tumble down over her shoulders in a wavy dark red waterfall, and he lost track of what the suite’s butler was telling him.

She was wrestling with some sort of decision, he sensed, and then she gave her head a toss, turned on her heel, and started walking toward him.

Lifting his wineglass to his lips to hide his appreciative smile, he watched her walk out onto the balcony—a wholesome, unaffected, young woman who looked completely feminine in a green crop top and jeans...

Liam had no right to sleep with her and jeopardize her life anymore than it had been.

She stepped out onto the balcony and walked up to him—a smiling, sexy, desirable woman with a provocative mouth that was made to be kissed, heavily lashed green eyes that melted him, and a slender body he was dying to caress and join with his own.

Liam decided he had every right to take her to bed and make love to her, as long as he was honest with her in advance and made sure she had no false illusions or unrealistic expectations afterwards. As long as she wouldn’t expect anything more from him. He’d never marry nor take her as a girlfriend and he had to make certain she knew this in advance before anything else.

He picked up a glass of white wine and handed it to her.

"Mr. Ramirez was telling me about the former occupants of this suite." His expression told Rayne he didn’t give a damn about that topic but was making polite small talk while the butler was there.

The butler turned and bowed politely to Rayne and said, "I will unpack for you before I leave, Miss. Do you have anything with you that you would like me clean?"

"No, thank you," Rayne replied as she picked up a half sandwich and walked over to the chest-high balcony wall for a better look at the view below.

Behind her, Mr. Ramirez said, "I’ve arranged your clothes, Mr. Thompson, and hung them in your closet."

Unaware that Liam had followed her, Rayne whirled around and almost smashed her sandwich against his chest.

"You have clothes to wear?" she exclaimed in delight. Bracing his hands on the wall on either side of her, he trapped her and studied her with amused fascination. "You look ready to cheer with relief."

Before Rayne could respond, Mr. Ramirez said politely, "When I finish unpacking, may I be of any further service to you?"

With his smiling gaze still fixed on Rayne, Liam replied, "Please turn down the bed before you leave, and see that we are not disturbed for the whole night."

Rayne gaped at him in horror. "Could you possibly be more obvious?"

"This is a hotel, little red," he pointed out reasonably.

"I know it is. But in the last five days, I’ve checked into two of them with different men. I’m feeling like a whore."

He chuckled at her description of herself and ran his knuckles up her arm in a lazy caress. "So you thought I didn’t bring any clothes with me?"

"You didn’t have a suitcase with you in the car," Rayne pointed out, trying to sound less affected than she was by the touch of his skin against hers.

"I dropped it off this morning when I came out here to try to arrange for this suite."

His knuckles slid across her shoulder and followed the curve of her jaw, which allowed his fingertips to slip beneath the neckline of her shirt and glide over her bare collarbone. "Just out of curiosity, what did you think I was going to do about clothes while we were here?"

"I thought you’d decided you weren’t going to need any clothes," Rayne said shakily, trying to concentrate on his words and not his fingers.

"According to the tourist booklet, some beaches on the island are nude." She whispered.

"Have you forgotten I planned to take you to a casino?"

"No, of course not. I thought maybe you intended to skip that tonight."

"And do what instead?"

"I don’t know."

"Yes, you do, little red."

Swallowing a laugh, Rayne glanced toward the doorway. "Shhh. Mr. Ramirez is in there. He’ll hear us."

"Who cares?"

"I do. This might sound naive, but I’ve never checked into a hotel just to sleep with someone, and I’m a bit self-conscious about it. I suppose you’ve done it many times before, haven’t you?"

"Now you’re making me feel self-conscious."

"I shouldn’t have asked that," Rayne said regretfully.

"Probably not," he whispered.

Rayne stiffened at the implied reprimand, but before she could think of a suitable response, he twined his left hand through her hair and tipped her head back.

His warm lips came down on hers in a long, slow, searching kiss filled with lazy hunger. Finally, he lifted his mouth from hers with a wet sound before she could get lost in the kiss. "Let’s go inside."

Rayne nodded agreement. By then, she would have nodded agreement if he’d suggested they jump off the balcony headfirst, but once they were in the suite, his tone and his words startled her out of her sensual haze.

"We need to talk Rayne, sit down."

Surprised by his businesslike tone, Rayne perched her hip on the arm of a sofa and watched curiously as he walked over to the glass wall, shoved his hands into his pockets, and looked down for several seconds as if composing his thoughts.

When he turned, his expression was friendly but resolute.

"Before you get into bed with me, I want to make sure you don’t have any misunderstandings about us. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you looking back at this day with any regret."

"Go on," Rayne said when he paused.

"You’ve said you’re a ’romantic,’ and last night might have seemed more meaningful than it actually was. We have a lot of physical chemistry, but last night, on the beach in the moonlight, those kisses might have felt... What’s the word?"

"Magical?" Rayne suggested, using the word that matched her own feelings about last night. She regretted revealing her feelings, but Liam seemed to agree.

"’Magical’ works. You weren’t the only one affected by the setting and the moment. I was too, enough that I came back to answer your questions, which I normally wouldn’t have done. But that was last night, and last night was an exception."

Trying not to jump to conclusions and to stay calm, Rayne tilted her head and smiled slightly. "Are you trying to warn me off?"

"Not at all. I’ve wanted to get you into bed since dinner last night."

"Are you setting some ground rules, then?"

"I don’t think so."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I’m having a crisis of conscience," he said with frustration, "and I’m trying to deal with it."