Page 1 of One More Kiss

CHAPTER ONE

delilah

What was more annoying than the blare of a five a.m. alarm clock on a Saturday morning?

Nicole’s laugh.

I didn’t open my eyes as I reached out to turn off the noise, my head already pounding. After spending the previous day fighting nausea and nearly passing out in the middle of work, I’d attempted to go to bed early. It had been in vain because all I’d done was toss and turn until sometime around one when I’d heard a helicopter on the roof.

Knowing my father and Nash had returned, earlier than anticipated, I’d lain in bed watching the door—silently willing it to open and for Nash to walk in. He hadn’t. Any hope that he’d cut his trip short because he was concerned about me died a slow and painful death with each passing minute. I’d fallen asleep around three thirty, exhaustion finally putting me out of my misery.

Once the room was silent again, I groaned as I threw my legs over the side of the bed. I felt like I had a hangover, but I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, not even the glass of wine I’d been so tempted to toss back in one gulp at dinner. Nicole had been more irritating than usual, but it could have just been me.

Finding out I was pregnant had kind of thrown me off-kilter. Not seeing Nash for two weeks had been bad enough. Now, I had to tell my secret lover that my birth control had failed and we were going to be parents in seven months.

Nausea roiled in my stomach, but I wasn’t sure if it was morning sickness or the thought of how Nash would react to becoming a father.

Slowly, I got to my feet. Stef had advised me going from lying down to sitting to standing should be approached with caution. Not only would it help with any sudden motion sickness, but it would also help to avoid issues with my blood pressure. If anyone would know, it would be Stef. He was the best OB-GYN in Vegas.

Lucky for me, he and Sam had been walking through the lobby on their way up to the restaurant on the third floor when I’d had my dizzy spell. They both helped me up to my suite, where Stef gave me a full exam before concluding that I was pregnant. Which he then confirmed by sending Sam to pick up a test at the pharmacy.

Sam had screamed and danced around my bathroom in excitement as the stick trembled in my hand. I was glad someone was excited. Maybe I would have been too if I weren’t so worried about how Nash would react.

A shower left me more alert but no less queasy. I was still putting in an earring as I stepped into the elevator. Out of the nearly three hundred hotels in Vegas, my family’s resort was in the top five most successful. My grandfather, along with Nash’s, had built up the Royal Phoenix from a small casino with two hundred rooms into a multibillion-dollar success.

Now, it sat on seven acres, had almost seven thousand rooms, eight pools and three lazy rivers, its own mall, and six different restaurants. One whole floor was dedicated just to our spa; three theaters could each seat up to five thousand people for a variety of live shows that were separate from our arena where we hosted fights; then we had our members-only nightclub.

At nearly twenty-one, I was an assistant manager, a position I’d worked my behind off for so no one could cry nepotism. Although plenty still did—but never to my face. Cowards. My grandfather’s philosophy had always been never expect anyone to do a job you aren’t willing to do yourself. From housekeeping to room-service waiter to concierge, I’d worked in every position within the hotel and had been promoted to assistant manager by the GM six months ago.

My heart clenched thinking of my grandfather. I missed him so much. He’d died two days after my promotion, but he’d seemed proud of me. Howard Royal hadn’t been an easy man to impress. Lord knew he had never been happy with anything his son ever did, according to my father. But he’d given me a rare smile and a tight hug as he’d congratulated me on my new job.

With his passing, things had been thrown upside down. A few matters were still flying around in the air like a Cat 5 hurricane was blowing through, but for the most part, Nash had been able to calm the storm.

“Delilah,” a stern voice greeted as I walked through the lobby. Despite the early hour, people were coming and going at a steady pace. Vegas was a true city that never slept. “Didn’t I tell you to take the weekend off?”

I gave the man behind the front desk a smile. My boss was a grumpy-faced a-hole most of the time, but Winston was all soft and squishy on the inside. “There’s too much to do this weekend. We have a celebrity poker tournament going on, plus the first LEX show starts tonight. Would you rather I left all that in Jackie’s hands?” I wasn’t the biggest LEX fan, but they had an almost cult following. The pop band was made up of Luis, Easton, and Xan Lexen, who were nothing but divas behind the scenes.

He shuddered but didn’t drop the frowny face. “I’d rather not have my favorite assistant manager passing out from exhaustion. You work too hard. Take a break. I can handle things. That’s why I’m the general manager.”

“There is no such thing as ‘work too hard.’ My grandfather is probably rolling over in his grave as we speak at someone saying such blasphemy in his hotel.” Stepping behind the desk, I logged in to one of the dozen computers.

Three receptionists were already checking guests in and out. If there had been a long line, I would have helped. But they were keeping up, so I started clicking through my long to-do list. When the phone rang, I picked it up without taking my eyes off the screen. “Royal Phoenix, front desk. This is Delilah. How may I be of service?”

“Lily.”

Goose bumps popped up along my entire body at the sound of his voice rasping the name only he used in my ear. My breath hitched. All reactions I’d learned to temper when it came to this man, to keep our relationship a secret as he’d asked.

Demanded.

I swallowed hard as that niggling voice whispered in the back of my mind, a lump filling my throat. It had been too long since I’d heard his voice. Even longer since I’d gotten to touch him. His concern for me if we went public with our relationship too soon had felt sweet in the beginning. Six months later and I was left feeling nothing but dirty.

And not in the fun kind of way.

“Sir,” I greeted, unable to keep the small bite of anger from my voice.

“Why are you working? I was told you were unwell.”

Was that why he hadn’t crawled into bed with me?

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