I swallow hard. She wants to show me my room. This exquisite woman, full of grace and sensual beauty, one of the richest and influential in Europe, is about to lead me upstairs. In any other circumstance, I would have thought I died and gone to heaven. Now though, my reaction is a problem. A very big problem. An unwelcome image of taking her face in my hands to kiss her mouth pops into my head, and I grit my teeth to ward off the rush of excitement it elicits. Clearly, she senses my hesitation, and again, the smile dims, this time accompanied by a hint of confusion in her eyes. “Or a porter can show you. I didn't mean to presume,” she adds.
“No,” I blurt out far too loudly, but I hate the idea she thinks I want anyone but her, regardless of the task. “Please, I would be honored if you took the time to acquaint me with where I will be staying and working.” I feel a blush coming on but can do nothing to stop it. Her effect on me is that strong already. “If you’re sure it’s not a hassle.”
Lila laughs softly, a touch of relief in it, and comes closer. “You are charming, Jael,” she says resting a hand on the sleeve of my winter coat. “Not a hassle at all, I assure you.”
Even through the thick fabric of my jacket, I feel the heat of her fingertips on me. Only through sheer willpower am I able to keep from reacting, yet it is apparently not enough as Lila pauses, too. I watch her look from her hand on my arm, then up to my eyes. I am much taller than she is, so she must lift her face to look into mine. The position welcomes a kiss, and I bite my lip. The craving is intense. I've met her only a few minutes ago, but somehow, I am completely and utterly captivated. “Oh my,” she murmurs and steps back suddenly. She drops her hand and turns away.
I reach for her out of instinct. “Are you okay?” She slips another step from me, and I realize what I am doing. She is an aristocrat, wealthy beyond my imagination, world-renowned for her kindness and generosity. My touching her at all is unacceptable. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”
She shakes her head. “No, it's my fault,” she says. “Please, the elevators are over here.” She starts to walk without turning to me again, and I obediently follow. Thankfully, there are a few other passengers to ride up with us, so there is no need to make small talk. We have started off on the wrong foot somehow. I have embarrassed myself, and Lila is clearly put off by my behavior. She won't even look at me. It’s for the best though, as my first task once I am alone in my room will be to call Zena on our secure line. This is an assignment I must refuse. The idea of trying to remain objective about anything in Lila’s presence seems impossible. My desire for her is too distracting already. For all I know, Georgia herself could be on the elevator ready to pounce, yet my heart is pounding so hard I can barely breathe, let alone be alert to danger.
“This is our floor, Jael,” I hear Lila say gently snapping me back to the moment and proving my point. I didn’t even register our progress. To cover my ineptitude, I smile and hold the doors open for her.
“After you, my lady.” When she hesitates, I worry I have screwed up again, perhaps coming across disrespectful somehow. I turn to her to apologize, but when I see her face, I freeze. A myriad of emotions is playing there, and my confusion deepens. I watch as her gaze slips to my mouth, lingers, and then comes back to my eyes. She licks her lips, and an unbidden flare of heat comes from my center. Such a kissable mouth. This absolutely cannot work, and I am only saved by one of the other elevator passengers clearing his throat.
“Is everything all right?” he asks, and it is enough to snap both Lila and me out of our daze.
“Yes, so sorry,” Lila replies slipping past me quickly. I step after her and have to hurry to keep up. She is all no-nonsense now, and after a moment, we are at a set of double doors. She keys the lock with her card, and I am relieved to find we are entering a suite of rooms that were converted to office workspace. If there were a bed… I shake my head to banish the start of any thoughts along that line. Being alone with her at all is thin ice enough. I don’t miss how Lila moves behind one of the desks to put a barrier between us. She is repulsed by my actions, and I hold my breath while I wait for her to dismiss me.
“We will work here,” she says. “I know Zena briefed you, and that you are aware I am in hiding of sorts, but I cannot let my international relief efforts suffer because of my poor choices.”
“Yes, of course,” I respond, although I am a bit confused. The file I read on the situation notes Lila as a victim of Georgia’s deception. The ‘poor choices’ comment doesn’t seem to fit. Not that it matters, as I am going to resign this post before the day is out. Still, I hate the look of what seems to be embarrassment on her face. Before I politely follow-up, she looks down at her hands and continues.
“Georgia DeLane is quite captivating,” she says. “Mesmerizing really. Like a cobra, I suppose.” She sighs. “In the end, I was so cleverly deceived by that woman’s false flattery and promises. Seduced on so many levels, like an old fool.”
“Don't say that.” The words come out before I can stop them. She is anything but an old fool, and the thought anyone made her feel that way makes my stomach turn with fury. My dislike for Georgia DeLane increases by the second. The realization she used sex to work her way into Lila’s trust goes against every shred of honor in my being. “Please,” I say to soften my initial outburst. “You were a victim. Nothing more.”
She turns to me, and our eyes meet. As much as I try to help it, electricity jumps between us, and for a split second, it almost seems the spark comes from her as well. But that is impossible, and I drag my eyes away.
“Thank you,” Lila says. “You are generous to say so.” There is a strange tone to her voice. Not just the usual warmth, but almost a yearning and again, I wonder what is happening. Even if the impossible were possible, and there was a mutual attraction, that would only make this worse. I must leave the room at once.
“I should go see my quarters,” I mumble backing toward the room’s exit.
“I can show you—” she starts, but I hold up my hand.
“No. I’m fine. What room?”
“Five-two-seven.”
With a nod, I make my escape, and only once I'm through the door into my own lavish suite, with it closed behind me, do I exhale. The longing in my body makes me shake. Never in my life have I responded to another person this way. “Fuck,” I growl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” This is the worst thing to have happen, and I try to brainstorm a way to explain it to Zena. At best, I will look like an unprofessional buffoon. God knows what the worst is, and I pray I can come across as something other than a crazed sex maniac. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I take a deep breath and start to search for the app Zena provided for our calls. My hand shakes, I am so upset and before I find it, the room's phone rings.
Thankful for the distraction, I quickly answer expecting the front desk inquiring about my luggage or something simple. Instead, it is Lila. “I know this will seem odd,” she says and then pauses. I feel her indecision on the phone and wonder why she called, yet my heart races at the sound of her voice. I could sit and listen to her talk about nothing, I think. She clears her throat. “What I mean to say is, my good friend is having his seventieth birthday party here tomorrow night. It will be quite the bash, and although I planned to go alone, I was wondering…” Again, a pause. I do not know what to expect and so say nothing. Finally, she finishes. “I mean, I know as my bodyguard you would normally be watching from the shadows, but I was wondering if instead, you would be my plus one?”