Page 82 of Sin City Lights

The tingling started again, and her breath began to do exactly what it did every time she even thought of him. Tonight, Adam would be sober.

And naked.

Eve pulled open her lingerie drawer. It held every type of lace and silk that could be had. One set, however, was tucked away in the corner, and now she eyed it, recalling the last time it had been on her body. Adam had kept those panties, but Eleet always purchased the sets with backups, knowing that men sometimes got carried away.

Why was she looking at that set?

She already knew the answer.

Tonight, he’d take her.

God help her, she wanted him to. Her body was ready.

She still didn’t know how she would guard her heart.

Adam

“Would you like to come up and check everything, sir?”

Good. All was ready.

Usually, Adam left all preparations to the maître d’, knowing that François never failed to do a stellar job. This time, however, he felt the need to go and put an eyeball on the setting.

“I’ll be up in five,” he told him.

Adam tapped “end,” then took a deep breath, pocketing his phone.

He checked his Breguet. 7:44. Eve was on her way and would be here any minute.

He went to the mirror to take one last critical look at himself. For the first time in longer than he could remember, Adam realized hewas nervous before an evening with a woman. He didn’t think beyond dinner, although he hoped she’d finally come upstairs.

He straightened his tie and smiled a little. She did like ties. He hoped she’d like this one. He pictured her small hand around it, pulling.

He turned away from his reflection. He had to focus on tonight, and tonight needed to be perfect. Grabbing his key card, Adam squared his shoulders and headed for the elevator.

Eve

“Thanks, Charlie.”

Eve stepped out of the Eleet limo, feeling a bit of déjà vu. Hughes was there waiting for her, far more friendly than he had been last night.

“Good evening, Miss Layton. Follow me, please.”

Just as she had before, she trailed him, walking past the fountain sculpture of the 2024 all the way to where Adam’s private elevator waited to take them to the top. She remembered the first time she had walked through this lobby with Devon, clueless about where meeting Adam Larssen would take her.

Unlike the other elevators, the glass on this one was tinted blue. The panel had only four buttons: garage, lobby, penthouse, and roof. Hughes tapped a code on a numbered keypad, then nodded politely and stepped back.

“You’re all set. Have a nice evening,” he said, his courteous smile betraying nothing of what he might have been thinking.

The doors slid closed, and the elevator began its smooth ascent. Butterflies looped the loop in her belly, and she knew it wasn’t the climb speed that made her head spin a little.

Adam was at the top of that elevator, and the knowledge made her extremities tingle. The elevator whined a little louder. She felt it slow, then stop.

So did Eve’s breathing.

The blue doors parted, and there stood Adam, devastatingly handsome in a light charcoal pinstripe suit. An azure-blue patterned tie was knotted perfectly around his neck, and a matching silk square peeked out of his breast pocket in a sharp three-point fold.

“Hello,” he said.

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