Home > Kiss Me With Lies(9)

Kiss Me With Lies(9)
Author: S. M. Soto

Seemingly out of thin air, someone dressed in a hotel uniform brings a chair for me and helps me sit, all the while tall—even sitting down, this man would tower over my small frame the moment he stands—dark, and handsome watches my every move. I had no idea hotel employees were waiting in the wings and shadows of this restaurant watching my strange yet arousing encounter with this man.

Slowly, I lower myself into the seat, feeling my nerves rise. The decadent, savory smell of his food hits me first, and my stomach rumbles. My mind immediately drifts to Vera and Kat, who are probably waiting for me to arrive at Nobu. I don’t want to be that friend, the one who ditches her girlfriends because she meets a man, but Jesus Christ, when will I ever get the chance to enjoy a meal with a man as gorgeous, intimidating, and intriguing as the one sitting across from me again? The likelihood is never.

“I’d like to make it known I’m only sitting because I’m hungry.” And not because you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

I keep that last tidbit to myself.

The handsome stranger lets out a dark, husky chuckle that hits me in places a laugh never should. It’s so foreign yet titillating.

His face splits into a mind-blowing grin that has my lady bits clenching. I take in the boyish gleam in his iridescent blue eyes and his masculine features and cock my head to the side. There’s something so familiar about him, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“Noted,” he remarks in a deep, raspy voice that travels through my body in waves. The way he speaks, his timbre is so incredibly sexy, and it has me forgetting why I came here in the first place. “I didn’t catch your name.”

The heat brewing in his eyes has my chest rising and falling erratically as it tries to accommodate my heavy breathing.

“I didn’t give it,” I say in a breathy voice, getting lost in his turbulent gaze. He smirks as though he knows his effect on me, then rests his forearms on the tablecloth and slowly leans toward me. My eyes widen, and my lungs squeeze painfully, restricting air, just waiting for him to make his next move. His head dips low, his lips grazing my ear. His masculine scent wafts around me.

“It’s a pleasure, no name.”

I smile and try to ignore the buzz of butterflies in my stomach and the thrill shooting up and down my spine. “It’s Mackenzie.”

He pulls away just enough to look into my eyes.

“Mackenzie,” he repeats my name as if he’s testing out the sound of it on his tongue. And fuck me if hearing my name come from his lips doesn’t do strange things to my body. “Tell me about yourself. What brings you to the resort?”

“Well, I … Wait, I didn’t even get your name. Seems a little unfair, don’t you think?”

He seems slightly surprised and taken aback by the question. Did he think I could read minds and would automatically know his name?

“It’s Baz.”

“Hmm. Interesting name.”

“So I’ve heard,” he replies nonchalantly. “Now, tell me about you, Mackenzie.”

The same hotel employee from earlier rolls in with a silver tray and stops the cart right next to me. The plate of food revealed is the same as what the man across from me is eating. The smell of the grilled salmon in a savory red wine with roasted vegetables on the side has me salivating as he slides my plate in front of me.

“Thank you,” I mumble, still feeling a bit out of sorts with the knowledge that this man has hotel employees at his beck and call. He didn’t even have to tell them to prepare me a plate or grab me a chair. They just automatically knew. If I didn’t know it before, I sure do now—this man must be someone with a lot of pull if he has these people scrambling after him.

The employee pours me a glass of wine while tall, dark, and handsome sips on what I think is whiskey in his tumbler. Or is it bourbon? What do rich people prefer to drink?

After taking a large gulp of wine for courage, I remember what Baz asked me before my food came.

“Well”—I clear my throat—“I’m from New York, and I’m a writer—well, sort of—just here on a small getaway with my friends.” He doesn’t need to know that this getaway is disguised as a plot with much more … cruel intentions. “And what about you, Mr. No-Company-for-the-Night? Tell me about you.”

Baz’s face shadows with confusion, but then it suddenly clears and morphs into a blank mask, save for his plump lips that are now pursed in a thin, grim line.

“I don’t like it when women play dumb, Mackenzie. It certainly doesn’t do it for me.”

My brows raise, my face colored in surprise.

What the hell is he talking about?

“Excuse me?” I ask, tone affronted.

He watches me carefully as I pause with my knife and fork buried into the salmon.

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” he inquires, head cocked to the side as though he’s waiting for me to decide on the truth. I slow my chewing and stare at him more intently.

Absolutely no recognition.

Other than his eyes. When I stare into his eyes, I feel like I know him. There’s familiarity there. Whatever darkness lurks there mirrors mine as if we’re one and the same.

“Am I supposed to?”

I can’t possibly know him, can I? Surely, I would’ve remembered a face like his had I ever run into him before.

He watches me contemplatively for a moment, absentmindedly tracing his fingers through the condensation on his tumbler filled with amber liquid. “I suppose not.”

“Well?” I prompt, now growing antsy, wanting to know the truth.

“Baz Kingston, CEO of King Spas and Resorts.”

My mouth gapes. “You own this place?”

He smirks at my reaction. “I do.”

“Wow,” I breathe. “Was not expecting that.”

“Interesting.”

“What is?”

“Most people already know who I am. But you … you’re different. I can’t tell what your agenda is.”

My brows furrow. “Agenda?”

Baz smirks, but it’s not warm or sexy like all his other ones. This one is different. Darker. “Everyone has an agenda, Mackenzie.”

I blush at his words. I don’t even know why, but for some reason, what he says makes heat rise to my cheeks. Maybe because he’s closer to the truth than he realizes. Because I do have an agenda. It’s the whole reason I’m here in California. The whole reason I changed my appearance.

“The hotel is incredible. I mean, you should be really proud of everything you’ve done here.”

“I am, thank you. We’re set to open another chain in Fiji as well as in the Hamptons soon.”

“That’s incredible.” I force a smile, trying to ignore my clutch that’s currently burning a hole through my lap. Here I am, sitting across from a CEO millionaire, while I struggle to make enough money to scrape by on.

Sometimes, the universe can be a son of a bitch.

“Enough about me.” He leans back, tone indifferent. “Tell me more about you. What brings you to California?”

Vengeance.

Instead of saying that, I clear my throat, opting for a version of the truth. “My friend’s father got me a room here. You must know him, Mr. Van Der Pont? Well, his daughter is a good friend, so we decided to make this a weekend getaway. Just the girls enjoying their time away from work.”

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