Page 8 of Coldhearted King

“I’m in...hospitality.”

I smile at him. “Wow, I should have kept my waitressing job.”

I wait for him to ask what I do, but he doesn’t. He just watches me out of those gorgeous, darkly lashed blue eyes because we’re here for one reason and one reason only. Getting to know each other isn’t a part of that.

When I realize my mistake, I laugh at myself. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll get the hang of this soon.”

He shakes his head, a crooked smile on his lips, as if I amuse him. And I probably do. I’m sure he’s used to being with far more experienced women. That thought rattles me far more than I expect it to. Before I can dwell on it too much, the elevator dings as it reaches his floor, and the doors slide open.

Cole ushers me down a short corridor that looks like it’s tiled in marble. He waves his card in front of the door and swings it open, standing back to let me walk through first.

“Oh my god.” My feet glue themselves to the floor as I take in the massive space. I’ve never been in such a luxurious hotel room before. There’s no other word to describe it but opulent, with its high ceilings, hardwood floors, and expensive-looking furniture. It even has a crystal chandelier hanging over the dining table.

But what catches my eye is the unobstructed view of the New York City skyline. “Wow,” I whisper. The floor-to-ceiling windows draw me forward, and I stand in front of them, my fingertips resting lightly on the cool glass as I look over the city spread out beneath me.

Unease flickers in my chest. Cole’s employer might be paying for this hotel suite, but he’s obviously wealthy himself. And I know what wealthy men are like—relentless when going after what they want, whether that be possessions or people, and with no regard for the repercussions of their selfishness.

Am I making a mistake?

I shake my head. I’m overthinking it. After tonight, I’ll never see Cole again, and I’ve done all I can to protect myself from any unintended consequences. As soon as I started dating Paul, I got a birth control implant. Assuming I’d be doing this with him tonight, I even brought a condom in my purse. If for some reason a man like Cole doesn’t have one handy, I’m covered.

“Would you like a drink?” Cole asks from behind me.

I drag myself away from the view and focus on him, where he’s standing in front of an extensive wet bar. As tempting as it is to have a big glass of wine to help with my courage, I want to know exactly what happens between us.

“I’ve probably had enough alcohol tonight. I’ll just have water, thank you.”

He cracks open a bottle, pours it into a glass, adds a slice of lemon, and walks over to me. Our fingers brush as I take the drink, and my gaze flits to his, my heart rate speeding up.

I take a sip, and then another. Cole hasn’t bothered with a drink for himself. Instead, he’s watching me, his eyes darkening as I lick a stray drop from my lips.

He doesn’t wait for me to finish, reaching for the glass and taking it from me. “You didn’t come here to hydrate and admire the view, did you?”

My pulse hammers in my throat. “I—Uh, no, I didn’t.”

His gaze lands on my mouth again, and he reaches up and brushes his thumb over my lower lip. Is he going to kiss me now?

“Turn around,” he says, his voice low and firm.

I blink, let out a shuddery breath, and do as he says. I only jump a little when he grips the zipper of my dress and drags it down. He takes his time, as if he’s enjoying the anticipation, then he slips the straps off my shoulders. The material slithers over my body and pools on the floor.

Oh my god, this is really happening.

“Walk to the bedroom. Slowly,” he commands, and when I shoot a look at him over my shoulder, he gives me a wolfish smile. “Come on, kitten. If you want to do this, we do it my way. And I want to see you.”

Kitten?Really? I don’t question it, though. I’ve got more important things on my mind. “This isn’t quite how I imagined this happening.”

His knuckles drift down my spine, and goose bumps ripple out from beneath his touch. His eyes pierce me. “You chose me for a reason,” he says, “and it’s not because you thought I would be soft and gentle. I’m sure you’ve been around plenty of very nice men that would have gladly sweet-talked you out of your clothes and into their beds, but you didn’t want them, did you? You want me. And that’s because a part of you knows exactly how this is going to go. You’re done overthinking, and now you want to let go and feel. But I could be wrong. Maybe what you really want is sweet words and spooning afterward. If that’s the case, feel free to walk back out that door. I’ll even call a driver to take you home.”

Maybe I should leave. Maybe I should take up his offer and put this night behind me as a moment of insanity. But standing here in my lingerie in front of a man who’s basically a stranger, I don’t want to leave. I have to put my faith in myself and my own judgment. To learn to trust my instincts instead of overanalyzing. And right now, my instincts are telling me I need what this man is offering me. I want him to take control so I can let go.

I let out a breath, all my muscles loosening as I step away from my discarded dress and walk to the bedroom.

CHAPTERFIVE

COLE

Fuck me.Delilah is a fucking vision. She may be petite, but her slender shoulders and narrow waist flair out to curvy hips and a round ass I’d love to see bent over the back of the couch.

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