Page 9 of High-Rise Heat

“Dom!” Ilsa scolds. “That’s a bad idea. Stay. Hang out.” She motions to the terrace, where the sun has hit the horizon and the sky is dancing with pink.

“It’s abrilliantidea,” Dom replies, nonchalantly winking at me. Fuck, I want Dom to let loose and embrace the mess. But is thisreallyhow he wants to do it?

“Are you sure you know what you’re talking about?” I ask, and Dom’s gaze is hard on me for a second before it softens into a smile.

“Always,” he says in a cocky tone that makes Ilsa frown. “Please, keep Ilsa entertained, would you? I really must update our board about the progress.”

“Dom, come on,” Ilsa protests. “We can call the company later. You’re friend is here and—”

“Oh, you know me,” Dom says playfully, sauntering over to Ilsa and kissing her on the top of the head. It’s chaste and brotherly, like he said their relationship is. “My brain’s a sieve,” he continues. “I won’t remember a thing in the morning.”

“Like you’ll remember anything now!” she complains.

Dom starts to rattle off numbers and sales figures, and I have to admit, he sounds like he could walk into a board room right now and give a full report. Drunk or not, Dom doesn’t fuck around when it comes to business. I eye Ilsa and his persistence that they’re just friends suddenly makes sense. Dom would never play around with something this important. I look at him again, just to be sure, but he’s already heading toward the hallway.

“You’re a complete bore!” Ilsa calls out and he turns around, smiling widely.

“That’s what makes us such a great team: the beauty and the bore. You keep Isaac entertained. I’ll do the report. See you both in the morning.”

“You’re an ass,” I chime in as Dom heads down the hallway.

“One that’s makes five times what you do, now that you’ve gone rogue,” he sasses back. “All work and no play, makes for a big fat bank account!”

He disappears around the corner and I turn to Ilsa, shaking my head.

“I’m sorry about that,” I say. “He used to be able to hold his liquor.”

She laughs. “When was that, college? You flash a virgin mai-thai in front of that Irish lad and he practically doubles over from thethoughtof drinking.”

“You two don’t drink?”

“We drink, just … not on these trips,” she explains. “We played the hold-each-others-hair-back-as-you-puke game on our first business trip, and trust me, he may have held his liquor once, but his liver doesn’t know he’s Irish.”

“Shit.” I pick up the bottle of whiskey, feeling guilty. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright. He’s an adult. We don’t have to baby sit him. He’s just going to pass out in there in ten minutes anyway.” Ilsa leans forward and takes the bottle from me. “And just because Dom can’t hold his liquor, doesn’t mean I can’t.” She twists off the top and throws another shot back.

“Jesus! You realize that’s pretty much the hottest thing in the world.”

Ilsa raises an eyebrow. “You’re easily amused.”

“Most women won’t go near whiskey.”

Ilsa shrugs. “Yes well, I don’t get to drink much on these trips. We usually celebrate a deal with truffles, or something I’ll have to spend three hours on the treadmill to burn off. This—” She lifts the bottle. “Is a God-send! Come.” She grabs my elbow and pulls me out toward the pool. “You have to see this view.”

5

Ilsa

Iwalk Isaac to the pool and sit down on the tile, hiking my wrap up to my thighs before plunging my feet into the water.

“Take your shoes off and put your feet in,” I say, cold shooting up my legs. I’m pissed at Dom for drinking and bailing on us, so I toss back another swig of whiskey in retaliation. “Feel the water on your legs,” I say, practically moaning. “Feel the contrast of the cold water and the heat of the whiskey in your throat.”

I don’t have to look at Isaac to feel the way he’s staring at me. That was an overly sexual thing to say and I know it. Maybe that’s why I said it. Because I wantsomeoneto look at me like that.

I don’t know why I feel as pissed off as I do. Today went beautifully. It was the perfect negotiation. We reeled in our clients like fish. The Asian territory and that promotion are in my grasp. We simply sign the documents tomorrow and it’s done. I throw back another swig.

“Are we about to go skinny dipping with the way you’re throwing whiskey back?” Isaac teases, and I smile without answering.

---