On His Knees

“Of course. We can’t have you going outside in that dress.”

The doors open and he leads me into the exquisite lobby. Raydolins is a pretty top-notch resort, so I’d imagine the fine dining restaurant must be pricey. He puts his hand on the small of my back again and guides me across the wide expanse of marble flooring. Heat sizzles through me at his touch, and I try not to appear as flustered as I feel.

We step through the doors to the restaurant, and I take in its opulence. “Tate,” I begin quickly. “We don’t have to eat here.” Jeez, how do I say this without offending him? He wants to take me out to dinner to a nice place, but I don’t want it to empty his bank account.

“You don’t like it?” he asks.

“No, it’s beautiful, I just...” To be honest it’s a little out of my element. Deep down I’m just a simple girl from Brooklyn and I don’t want this man to think he has to wine and dine me to impress me. I’m good with a cheeseburger and Coke. I might even prefer it.

He leans into me, puts his mouth close to my ear and whispers, “If you don’t want to stay...” he says, looking and feeling far more comfortable in this swank restaurant than I do. He actually looks like he belongs here, like he wants to be here.

“No, I do,” I say. If he wants to stay, we stay.

“Anything you want, Summer. Just say the word.”

What would that word be, please?

My brain spins, buzzing like a fine wine, as his low, sexy voice travels down my body, hitting every erogenous spot along the way. I tremble. Almost violently.

Tate’s brow furrows. “Maybe we should run back upstairs and grab you a sweater.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine,” I lie. I’m far from fine because the thoughts of running upstairs with him sounds appealing. Except I don’t want to go back to my room to put more clothes on. Quite the opposite, really.

When the hostess arrives, Tate says something I can’t hear. The waitress laughs, and her face lights up in admiration. She touches Tate’s arm, and I sense the familiarity between them. I guess working here, the staff all know each other and probably hang out. Heck, they probably all live together in the staff’s quarters.

We’re led across the restaurant, and a few heads turn to Tate, give him a nod of acknowledgment. I guess he’s well known, even with some of the guests. The hostess takes us to a table with a spectacular view of the mountains, as nice as my penthouse view. I stare at Tate, and wonder how exactly he managed to arrange this.

“You’re right, you do have some pull,” I say as we’re seated.

He grins, and smooths his hand over his tie. I angle my head, the gesture so familiar to me. James does the same thing, even when he’s not wearing a tie.

“Told you,” he says, but not in a show-off way. Just then the server stops by.

“I’m Justin. I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you both off with some drinks?”

Tate turns his attention to me. “Summer, what would you like?”

“White wine, please.”

The muscles along Tate’s jaw twist, and he goes quiet, like he needs a minute to compose himself. He scrubs his chin, and the bristling of his fine hair is like silk being dragged across my nipples.

“A bottle of your best,” Tate says.

The waiter nods. “Thank you, Tate. I’ll give you a minute to look over the menu, and I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“Does everyone here know you?”

“Pretty much,” he says, and opens his menu.

I do the same, and nearly swallow my tongue when I see the prices. Even on a new doctor’s salary, these prices are a bit steep for me. Fortunately, the salmon costs the least and sounds the most appealing. I close my menu and glance at the crystal chandelier above us, take in the amazing view outside. The hill is lit up under the star-studded night sky, and off in the distance I hear children laughing. The sound brings a smile to my face.

“Something funny?” Tate asks, and I turn my attention back to him as he sets the menu down.

“No, I just... I love this view. I’ve never seen anything like it actually.”

“No? Where’s home?”

“I’m originally from Brooklyn,” I say, an invisible band tightening around my heart as my thoughts go back to the old apartment I shared with my late father. God, I miss him. If it weren’t for Amber and Cara, I’d be all alone in this world. Sure, I have my patients, but that’s not quite the same. “How about you, where do you call home?” When he arches one eyebrow, I laugh. “Right, St. Moritz.”

“I used to live in Boston,” he says.

“Ah, I spent time in Boston, too. Maybe we crossed paths a time or two.”

“What were you doing in Boston?”

I open my mouth, not wanting to lie to this man, but not wanting him to know too much about me either, especially the fact that I’m a Harvard grad and a doctor. Just then the waiter returns with our drinks. He pours a small amount into Tate’s glass and he tastes it.

“Perfect,” he says, and the waiter fills our glasses. We put in our order and once he’s out of earshot, Tate leans toward me. “You never did tell me your last name.”

I hesitate for a second. “It’s just Summer.”

He leans back and nods, a flicker of a smile on his face. I expect him to call me on it, ask why I’m not giving up more information, but he doesn’t, and for that I’m grateful.

“What do you do, Summer?” He lazily waves his hand toward the view of the mountains. “Besides vacation in St. Moritz.”

I chuckle. “Right now I’m between jobs,” I say. Not a lie. I do run between the geriatric clinic and James’s mansion on Sixty-Fourth Street. Not to mention my own clinic that I’m trying to build. I look out the window. “This was all compliments of a friend.”

“A very generous friend.”

Averting Tate’s gaze, not wanting to flaunt the fact that I’m here living in luxury—and feeling guilty about it—I pick up my napkin and place it on my lap. “Very generous indeed.”

When I don’t elaborate, he lifts his glass, redirecting the conversation. I reach for my wine and we clink crystal.

“What are we toasting to?” I ask.

“Mistakes.”

I crinkle my nose. “Mistakes?”

He laughs. “Yeah, me groping you by mistake.”

“So, you admit to the groping?” He laughs harder and I arch a challenging brow. “I’m beginning to wonder if it was a mistake,” I say, fully aware I’m leading this conversation elsewhere.

His blue eyes deepen, little flecks of honey sparkling under the chandelier lights. “Believe me, Summer. If I was touching you on purpose, you’d know it,” he says, his voice full of promise and heat. My breath rushes as he stares, his eyes latched on mine, not letting me go.

The waiter returns to top our wine glasses, and Tate expels a breath, long and slow...tortured. A thrill goes through me, to know I can do this to him. I’m not being totally honest about who I am, but it’s the woman in me he wants, so it’s the woman in me he’s going to get. The bottom line is, I want this man, and dammit, before the night is through, I plan to have him.

A loud group of middle-aged men gets seated next to us, and I shift my chair a little closer to the window. The hostess hands them their menus, and when they start making inappropriate comments to her, every muscle in my body stiffens. My heart goes out to the girl who stands there quietly and smiles. Having been in her position, I know just how she feels. If she says something, puts a complaint in about their behavior, she’ll be out of a job before the night is over. Men like the ones beside me, ones with impressive pedigrees, well, they think they can get away with anything—and they usually can. I lift my eyes to find Tate watching me, his gaze narrowed, zeroed in on me.

“Summer.”

“Yes?”

“Would you excuse me for a minute?”

I nod. “Of course.”

Tate slides his chair back, and stands to his impressive height. “I’ll just be a moment.” He turns from me, and I expect him to disappear down the hall, to the little boy’s room. What he does instead surprises me.

I study the way his hair flirts with his collar as he bends down, puts his hands on the backs of two chairs and says something to the table of men, his voice low, for their ears only. A moment of silence, then he straightens and smooths his hand over his tie as he walks back to me. My jaw is practically on the table, as the men give their apologies to the girl, then go deathly silent. The hostess smiles after Tate, but his attention is back on me.

“Want to get out of here? Go somewhere a little quieter?” he asks.

“But we ordered.”

He smooths his hand over his tie again. “I’ll take care of it. What’s important right now is if you want to leave.”

I hesitate for a second, not wanting to ruin this date, but not wanting stay here a minute longer either. “Yes, please.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Tate

I PUT MY hand on the small of her back as I lead her out of the restaurant. I stop to talk to Katrina, the hostess I just stood up for, and tell her to put the food on my tab, package it up and take it back to the dorms for her and her boyfriend. We step into the lobby and Summer gives me a grateful smile. I smooth my hair back and lead her toward the elevators, both of us momentarily lost in our own thoughts.

Here I thought she would have been more comfortable in a room full of wealthy people, seeing as she’s soon going to own half my grandfather’s estate if I don’t do something about it. But she wasn’t relaxed at all. Sure, she maintained her composure, was poised and beautiful the whole time, but her body language spoke volumes. She wasn’t comfortable. Why would a con out to steal millions be out of place in a classy restaurant? Oh, maybe because she was afraid to run in to some other rich guy she bamboozled in the past.

“What just happened in there?” she asks, her voice low, a bit strained.

“You didn’t like the way they were treating the hostess, and neither did I.” Anger burns through my blood. I’ve worked in the service industry trenches for years, and I know what it’s like to be treated poorly.

“I used to be a waitress,” she tells me, and from the way she’s scrunching up her face, it’s clear she’s been in the hostess’s shoes before. “I’m sure as a bartender, you get your fair share of unruly clients, and unwanted advances.”

“Yeah,” I say. As a powerhouse lawyer I do, too, but I keep that to myself.

“What did you say to those guys?” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and it draws my attention as she worries her teeth over it. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I told them they were being a bunch of assholes to the hostess, and if they kept it up, I knew a hotshot lawyer who would make a public mockery of them.” The corner of my mouth turns up in a grin. “Then I told them if that didn’t scare them, I knew where their wives were.”

Her small laugh curls around me, through me, warms me from the inside out, and I take a sidelong look at her, in time to see her put her small hand over her mouth, looking so damn adorable as she tries to quiet her laugh, it’s all I can do not to drag her to me and kiss the hell out of her.

“Then I told them to apologize.”

She puts her hand on my arm, and her touch stops me in my tracks. I turn to face her and the sincerity in her eyes hits me like a double shot of tequila, making me a bit unstable.

“Thank you,” she says softly, glancing at her feet. Her mouth turns down, so soft and lush, I ache to feel it under mine. “I’m sorry it ruined our nice dinner.”

“Dinner’s not over,” I announce sharply, shaking thoughts from my head that shouldn’t be there.

“Oh,” she says, and looks at the elevators I just led her to. “I thought—”

“As much as I like you in this dress, you’re going to your room to take it off.” Her eyes widen, and my cock jumps as I envision her taking it off for me, slowly, seductively. “You’ll need jeans and a sweater for where we’re going.”

“Where might that be?” Her inviting gaze rakes over me, and a groan of pure torture catches in my throat.

“You’ll see.” I could take her to her room and seduce her. She looks about as ready for it as I am. I’m not slowing this seduction down because I want to spend a bit more time with her. No, that’s not it at all. I’d rather do it in my chalet, on my turf. That way after I take her to her knees, and out her for the con she really is, she can think about how much she hurt my granddad on the walk back to her penthouse, which I plan to have packed up before she even gets there.

“What about you?” Her eyes linger on me. “Are you going to change?”

“Yes.”

She glances toward the front sliding doors where three doormen stand waiting. “Where are the staff quarters located?”

“Not too far from here,” I say. Not that I’m staying in them. No, I’m in one of Granddad’s private chalets just down the road from this hotel, and that’s where I plan to take her, right after I grab us some takeout. The sooner I get this seduction under way, the sooner I can get away from her...from temptation.

Shit.

“I can make my own way back to my room.”

“I—” Granddad pounded manners into me, and letting her walk back to her room unaccompanied on a date isn’t something I’d normally do. Then again this isn’t a real date, but still.

She puts her hand on my chest, and my heart pounds fast. Can she feel it? Feel what her touch does to me?

“I’m a big girl, Tate. Go ahead and run back to your quarters and get changed,” she says. I’m about to protest again, but she looks like she needs a minute to herself after the incident in the restaurant. It obviously shook her up. I can imagine a beautiful girl like her has been the subject of much taunting during her waitressing years. I might be trying to take her down, but I’m not a total asshole—not all the time anyway.

My gaze moves over her pretty face. “You sure?”

“Yes, we can meet in the lobby, say thirty minutes?”

“I can be fast,” I say and step into her. Like I said, the sooner I get this done the better. Being fast has nothing to do with wanting to get back to her as quickly as possible. I touch the sleeve of her dress, run my fingers over it. A low whimper catches in her throat. Yeah, I’m getting to her as much as she’s getting to me. That much is obvious. “But if you want thirty minutes, I can be slow,” I say, and she blinks up at me, like she’s trying to figure out whether I’m talking about sex or not.

“Fifteen...” she says on a breathless whisper. “Fifteen is good.”

“Okay,” I say, and usher her onto the elevator when it arrives. I watch her, and before the doors shut, I say, “Keep your hair up.”

I grin as I walk away. Oh yeah, I love seeing the long column of her neck, and I want to be the one to pull that clip free to let her mess of curls fall over her shoulders. I grab my coat from the bellman who took it earlier, and step outside, the cold air like a punch to my throbbing dick, knocking some sense back into me, thankfully.

The wind blows as I hurry to my chalet, the snow crunching beneath my shoes on the winding pathway. I hurry inside, turn the heat up a bit more, wanting it warm for when we arrive, and check the logs in the grate. The perfect setup for a seduction. I change into a pair of jeans and a sweater, and then I tug on my Sorels and ski jacket.

I check the time and hurry back outside, wanting to keep my word that I’d only be fifteen minutes. I enter the lobby and find Summer dressed in a different coat, one that reaches her knees, and a big pair of boots with fur peeking out of the tops. Goddammit, how she can make that look sexy is beyond me. Her eyes are searching for me, like she can’t wait to be with me again. A wave of need builds inside me at that realization. Why the hell do I like the idea of her needing me so much? I stare at her slightly parted lips for a moment, and resist the urge to stalk over there, grab her and plunder her mouth already. I exhale slowly to get myself together.

She turns her back to me and I hurry toward her. I bend to put my mouth near her ear. “Fifteen minutes,” I say, as her scent teases and torments my senses. “I’m a man of my word.”

She spins and the smile that lights up her face fucks me over big-time. Her eyes drop to take in my casual wear, and her smile widens as she taps her chin. “I can’t decide which I like more, the dressed-up version of Tate or this dressed-down version.”

“Once you see me naked, there will be no competition,” I tease, and wonder if I’m going to get a punch to the nuts for my crudeness.

“Cocky much?” she teases in return.

“Cocky? That’s one way to put it.” She stares up at me like she doesn’t know how to respond, so I lean into her again and say, “But that’ll cost you more than a drink.”

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