Page 26 of The Layover

“Would you have let me finger you under the table?” Raul asked.

Heat spread across my cheeks. “No.”

“See?” Diego winked at me.

And I was out of arguments. I also wanted to stop talking about the impromptu orgasm that had been one of the most fun but also embarrassing of my life. “I was supposed to be at the meeting, but I had a visit run long in Chicago. I was literally back home long enough to sleep, pack clean clothes, and hop on another plane.”

“That’s got to be rough, traveling so much. Not seeing home.” Diego’s frown said he was having a hard time impinging it.

But I loved it. “It’s the life I chose, and I get to see so many amazing places.” These days it could be a little much. Sometimes I missed stability, like when I barely had a night between trips, and I saw more of the hotel rooms than my condo. But overall, I still loved it.

“What’s your favorite place you’ve ever been?” Raul asked. “Or rather, if I were going to take my husband on a surprise trip, where should I take him?”

Diego laughed. “It’s not a surprise if I’m sitting right here while you plan it.”

I liked watching the way they played off each other. It was obvious they belonged together. “Have you ever been to Angkor Wat, Cambodia?”

Raul wrinkled his nose, and I knew instantly where Eloise had gotten the look from.

“No, but I’ve always wanted to go.” Of course Diego knew what I was talking about. Stone buildings, ancient architecture, and amazing culture.

“There you go. Next birthday sorted.” I bit back the urge to offer to be their tour guide. At least I could show a teensy bit of restraint.

Raul leaned in, elbows on his knees and gaze on me. “Speaking of celebrations, between the honeymoon suite and the wedding, I feel like the universe is trying to tell us something.”

I wanted to make a joke about bad wedding planners, but my sister had lived the ultimate as far as that was concerned, and it still felt too soon to bring it up. “Tell us what?”

“Well, weddings and honeymoons usually mean honeymoon sex.”

“Which should be off the table, given our working relationship.” I didn’t want to argue. I kind of hated myself for arguing. But I was a professional.

Raul raised an eyebrow. “You said should be.”

Did I? Oops.

Diego stood and crossed the short distance between us. He offered me a hand.

When I grasped his fingers, he tugged me to my feet and swept me into his arms in a single, smooth motion.

I swallowed a squeal, not wanting to wake up Eloise. “What are you doing?”

“Taking this conversation someplace more private.” Diego carried me into the bedroom, on the other side of the apartment from Eloise’s. He set me on my feet in the middle of the room.

So this was what conflicted felt like. On the one hand—I hadn’t agreed to anything, they were making assumptions, and they were clients. On the other hand…

God they were sexy, and I really wanted to see what we could get up to.

Raul moved behind me and rested his hands on my hips. “With those romance novels you read, you probably have some high expectations.”

“Mutual respect and orgasms. Not that high.”

“And not at all unreasonable.” Diego rested his hand at the base of my throat with enough weight to tease but not to squeeze. “We shouldn’t do this.”

Disappointment whispered through me that he was agreeing with the more reasonable part of me. “No, we really shouldn’t.”

“What if we say just this once?” Raul pressed into my back and slid his fingers to rest on my stomach.

Damn it if this wasn’t far more tempting than it should be.

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