Page 13 of One Naughty Night (Single in South Beach)

He paused beside her, one hand on the door knob before he asked, “You think there’s any chance I can redeem myself down the road? Tomorrow? Next week?”

A shiver went through her at his proximity.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” As enticing as she found the chemistry between them, she had no interest in playing games when it came to dating. “Besides, I did agree to meet someone here tonight and now I need to find out what happened to him. Maybe reschedule.”

She felt like a heel for ditching her real date. Although she had to admit that after kissing Renzo, she wasn’t really looking forward to meeting anyone else. He might have pulled a fast one on her tonight, but there was no point denying his kisses had turned her inside out.

Renzo scowled, his hand falling away from the door. “You’re not going back downstairs tonight, I hope.”

She scowled back. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I’m not. I’ll try calling Hugh to at least let him know why I didn’t show.”

Well, she’d call his aunt and let her know what happened. Renzo didn’t need to know she’d never so much as spoken to Hugh Duncan.

“Good. I’ll be in the kitchen helping my sister if you need me. I’ll be here for at least a couple more hours.”

She opened the door for him, unwilling to participate in any discussion about how much she might need him. She refused to be attracted to a guy who’d lied to her. Stepping back, she stood out of the way to clear a path for him. “Thanks. But I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry about—” Renzo lingered in the doorway. “—all of this. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Upset? Who was upset?

Just because her Cinderella night was over and her experiment in being bold with her prince had backfired in the most humiliating way possible? Just because she’d really liked this man she thought was her date?

She wouldn’t even go there.

“Good night, Renzo.” Esme closed the door behind him, unconcerned if the heavy weight of it sped him across the threshold all the faster.

She needed to be alone to wade through the mess she’d made of her night. So much for her bid to take charge of her life.

Starting tomorrow, she would pour all of her energies into carving out a new career path and developing her professional goals. She’d always been better with artwork than people.

So what if her dreams would be filled with visions of what might have happened with sexy Renzo Cesare? Her antique watch had long ago struck midnight and she’d obviously lost her glass slipper somewhere between the babbling brook and the mini bar. Her luck hadn’t been changing for the better. She’d merely earned her most crowning humiliation of all.

The real Prince Charming hadn’t even bothered to show up. He’d sent one of the Studs of Italy to take his place and give her tattered pride one final trounce.

* * *

The door closedbehind Renzo with echoing finality. Esme couldn’t have made it much plainer that she wanted him the hell out of her lush Sensualist’s Suite. Still, he had to bite his tongue not to call back through the barrier to remind her to lock up. Did the woman never consider her own safety?

Finally, the deadbolt snicked into place, freeing him from any notion that he was sticking around long enough to be sure she was secure in her room. No, if he continued to linger outside her door now, then he was just the average pathetic guy who got dumped.

Damn.

Except for his misguided trip down the aisle, Renzo had never really been dumped before. Of course, Celeste leaving him at the altar had been a pretty big break-up, but until now, it had been the only time a woman had ever walked away from him.

And hell, even Celeste hadn’t left in the middle of foreplay. Esmerelda Giles had to have some major fortitude to break things off when they’d been sending sparks flying all over that fancy suite of hers.

Then again, maybe he overestimated his appeal and it hadn’t been that difficult for her to boot him out at all. Now she was calling herrealdate. And even if she had no intention of rescheduling, the realization still stung.

And wasn’t that a crappy note to end the night on?

He strode through the hotel corridor to the elevator, ignoring the pang of regret at the way things had finished between he and Esme. What did he expect when he’d started out a relationship with a lie? At the time he’d misled her into thinking he was her date, however, he hadn’t been thinking along those lines. He’d simply meant to make sure the club shark who’d been hitting on her didn’t take a bite.

But then they’d started talking and he’d glimpsed a lot more to Esme than just a naiveté about nightlife. She had impressed him with her work as an art historian, then she’d caught him off-guard with the subtle invitations to dance, to walk her back to her room. He’d been too intrigued to set the record straight and too distracted to think through the consequences.

The elevator doors slid open on the lobby level where Renzo stepped out into a small throng of hotel guests and late night partygoers headed for the nightclub. He followed a long hallway toward the Moulin Rouge Lounge, keeping an eye out for his brother Nico so they could figure out the family finances.

“Hey brother.” His brother’s voice sounded from a darkened nook off the hallway. “Wait up.”

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