Page 12 of One Naughty Night (Single in South Beach)

He sounded genuinely annoyed about this. As if he had a right to judge the actions of her date. Or her.

Anger bubbled inside her, as strong and fierce as the red-hot desire that had been pulsing through her veins moments ago. Old Esme might have slunk away from this encounter, but New Esme practically sprinted to engage the beast in her bed.

“And you took it upon yourself to judge my decision-making abilities… why?” Her voice maintained an admirable amount of cool distance despite the knot of embarrassed disappointment that curled in her belly. She couldn’t decide if she was more upset at the notion of this man’s deception—or at the loss of the fiery interlude that had been almost in her grasp.

But obviously that wasn’t going to happen. The man had lied to her shamelessly.

God, her luck sucked this month.

Renzo curled to a sitting position, his abs flexing underneath the dark T-shirt she’d been moments away from removing. “I don’t know why. I just saw you in the middle of that pick-up jungle down there and I knew you didn’t belong with all those club-hopping vampires who wait for fresh blood to walk through the door.”

“So you decided to be the first vampire in line?” She scrambled to the other side of the bed and straightened her dress back into position. Her unbound hair still grazed the bare patches of her neck and shoulders in a teasing caress, reminding her of the care she’d taken to look her best for this date.

A date she’d never actually met.

“Hell no.” He had the nerve to sound insulted. “I just couldn’t stand to see you harassed by one of those guys while you waited for some loser blind date who didn’t know enough to take you some place nice.”

She tried really hard to follow that logic and failed. “What makes you think my date would have been such a loser anyway? And who are you to think you can intercede where you have no damn business?”

“You’re right. I had no business to interfere. It’s an arrogance thing that goes way back and I don’t know why I think I know what’s best for people.” Hauling himself off the bed, he moved to pace the floor between the bed and the narrow babbling brook.

She watched his broad back, thinking how this night could have gone horribly wrong. She’d brought a man back here without even suspecting he wasn’t her real date. What did women do these days when they went out with someone new? Check IDs?

Renzo turned to face her again, his chin jutting. “But my intentions weren’t all bad.”

“Even though I’m now sharing a hotel room with someone I don’t even know?” she snapped, folding her arms.

He raised his arms in a “no-harm-intended” gesture. “I can leave any time,” he vowed, backing up a step toward the door. “But keep in mind, I prevented you from having any of that pre-poured drink you took from the champagne bar.”

She tried to follow his thinking. “You don’t need to leave yet. You’re telling me that you saved me from cheap champagne?”

“Predators routinely pour date rape drugs in unguarded drinks,” he pointed out. “You could wake up the next day with no memory of what happened to you or who you went home with.”

“I’ve read about that,” she admitted, realizing he had a valid point about that, at least. She would have to be more careful if she ever ventured out on her own to the club scene again.

But after tonight’s fiasco, she honestly couldn’t see that happening any time soon.

Plagued with a sudden wave of weariness, Esme’s anger eased, leaving her too defenseless to face the pacing Stud of Italy who still dominated her suite.

“I’ll talk to my sister about the problem with the champagne bar on ladies’ night since she’s in charge of the kitchens. As for why I thought your date was a loser…” Renzo paced the room as if musing to himself before halting at the foot of the bed. “I guess I don’t have any real grounds for that assumption other than the fact that he asked you to meet him here. I saw you, I wanted you, and I told myself he didn’t deserve you.”

She blinked back at him, not sure she could trust anything he said at this point. The part about him wanting her sent a shiver up her spine, but was that simply a scheming man’s fastest route back to bed?

Esme had to admit she’d drifted out of her depth tonight. She couldn’t come close to understanding why a man so obviously capable of finding plenty of dates on his own would have intercepted her before she could indulge in her first adventure in years.

Not to mention, her plan to take charge of her life had been a total bust. Bad decision number five thousand thirty-nine—going to bed with the wrong man— had really thrown a wrench in her plans.

“Renzo Cesare, you say?” There wasn’t much to do now but send this sexy man away. No matter what he said about saving her from herself and her bad judgment, Esme didn’t know what to make of his actions tonight. She couldn’t help but feel like she’d been the butt of some elaborate joke. Rising, she crossed the suite with efficient steps and paused in front of the door with what she hoped was a small measure of dignity. “I wish we could have met under different circumstances. But now that you’ve walked me safely to my room, I think it’s probably time for you to go.”

She took great comfort in the coolness of her tone, the resolve in her voice. She tried not to notice wave of regret she experienced at the thought of what might have been if tonight had been real. Special.

He gave a clipped nod.

“That’s wise.” He strode across the floor, his long, denim-encased legs covering the terrain quickly. “You don’t know me from Adam, so it only makes sense to kick me out.”

Her heartbeat sped rapidly as he approached the door. And her.

Apparently he still affected her senses even though he’d deceived her.

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