Page 9 of The Tryst

I am not about to be knocked out of line just because I don’t have a press pass. I’m definitely not going to be pushed away when it comes to the first guy—no,man—in ages that I’ve picked.

He’smychoice and mine alone.

“Mr. Adams,” I say, my voice carrying above the dozens of people surrounding him. “I have a question.”

He whips his head toward me, and recognition crosses those eyes—they’re hazel. But the darkest hazel I’ve ever seen. Flecks of gold flicker in them, right along with his dirty thoughts.

My pulse spikes, but I don’t stop. I push on. “You mentioned that seconds matter when it comes to taking a chance, but that you should also not be hasty,” I say and his brow knits, his eyes determined, like I’m the target in his crosshairs. “How do you balance that?”

All I’ve planned is the question. I don’t know what I’ll do or say next. But I want him to notice me. Maybe to see my name tag. To find me. To follow me.

After a thoughtful nod, he says, “That’s not a quick question to answer.” Then, his eyes dip to the tag on my chest. “Lola.”

The way he says my name, in that rough rasp, sends a flush of arousal down my body, straight to my core.

I try not to tremble in the middle of the crowd.

“But I was hoping you’d ask that to follow up on the conversation we had yesterday during the VIP session,” he continues, and holy shit. He’s smooth on his feet. He can improvise. Then he turns to Valeria. “This’ll be a minute. It’s a confidential business matter.”

Confidential is officially the sexiest word in any language.

In no time, he shoulders past the reporters.

My pulse gallops as he parts the crowd with his presence, his strength, his…virility. He tips his head toward a quiet corner of the ballroom, then sets his hand on my elbow as we walk.

My elbow is turned on. What kind of sex sorcery is this?

After we’re a safe distance from the crowd, he stops, then turns to me. “Your question is probably best answered over drinks in the hotel bar. My last meeting ends at seven.”

My breath hitches. This man just asked me out. But I can’t stand here stupidly. I recover quickly from the shock and say, “I’ll buy you a drink.”

A sly smile lingers on his lips. “No. I’ll buy you one.” He tilts his head, studying my face like he’s committing me to memory again. Then he steps closer, mere inches from me, as he touches my elbow once again. “Lola.”

He turns to join the others.

He doesn’t look back.

But he doesn’t have to.

We both know I’ll be there. He probably knows, too, that my elbow is on fire.

4

LADIES CHOICE

Nick

There’s a first time for everything.

Like watching makeup videos, evidently.

But I need to know why the hell this woman made me throw out my no-dating-on-work-trips rule. Maybe the answer lies in the videos she makes—videos with tons of views.

As I brush my teeth in my suite, I am transfixed by the woman on the screen, swiping a pink pencil thingy precisely across her eyebrow.

“This step is for creating depth,” Lola says, and I don’t give two fucks about how to fill in a brow but Lola commands my attention with her confident yet accessible style.

I watch till the end. I barely blink.

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