Page 15 of One Naughty Night (Single in South Beach)

“I mean it, Renzo, we’ve got to convince Giselle to get out of this business.” Nico fumed as he stalked down the hall away from the kitchen. “This place attracts all the wrong kinds of attention.”

Renzo didn’t point out how much Giselle seemed to enjoy her work here since he wasn’t thrilled about her connection to Club Paradise either.

“Could we just handle one family crisis at a time? We need to worry more about how Marco is going to get through law school. He called me tonight with another cash flow problem.” The youngest Cesare had started at Harvard two months ago and the effort to keep him in the prestigious school was costing the family big-time.

Renzo found an exit to the beach on the rear wall of the corridor outside Club Paradise’s main kitchen and shouldered the door open. The warm night air blew over them, the scent of the ocean bringing reassuring peace after the tension in the kitchen.

Damn but he wished he was still in Esme’s bed right now. The night had taken a serious nosedive since she’d kicked him out.

“Don’t tell me that school thinks it can bleed us more. I’ve lost track of how many checks we’ve written--”

“It’s not the school this time.” Renzo moved to the edge of the deck behind the hotel and hoisted himself to sit on the wooden railing, thinking the night air would feel even better if he was sharing it with a delicate blonde instead of his cranky older brother. “It’s that piece of crap car he was driving which a local mechanic declared DOA after it broke down on the interstate. He’s going to need something else to get him around town.”

“Shit.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“You know I’m only making a fraction of what I used to now that I’ve moved to coaching?” Nico shook his head, frustration written in every tense line of his pacing gait. “I hate that I didn’t consult a financial manager earlier in my career.”

Nico had gotten sucked into living large and now he had bills ten times higher than he could afford. Which left Renzo to buy a new car for their brother.

“Actually, I think I’ve got a plan this time.” A really ridiculous plan, maybe, but it guaranteed him a chance to see Esmerelda Giles again.

He breathed in the salty ocean breeze and took comfort in the soft swish of the water hitting the shore beyond the deck area.

Nico quit pacing. “I’ll come up with my half. If only I could unload that damn house of mine I could make all this go away in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The more he thought about this plan—- and the fact that Esme was probably in the market for a new job anyway—- the more Renzo couldn’t wait for morning to come so he could talk to her about it. “I’ve been meaning to develop a new business with a higher profit margin and I think I’ve finally figured out what to do.”

First thing tomorrow he’d make Esme a business proposition she couldn’t refuse—a plan that would bode well for them both professionally.

As for their personal relationship, he didn’t kid himself that he’d find his way back into her bed again any time soon. But he could be a patient man when he wanted something badly enough.

And where there was a will. . .

ChapterFive

There had to be a way.

Esme stared down at her checkbook balance the next morning and wondered how she could possibly pay for this sensual, exotic hotel suite out of her own pocket. Sure, her lovely neighbor Mrs. Wolcott had held the room on her credit card and would automatically be billed if Esme didn’t pay for it, but how could she allow her friend to finance something so extravagant when she hadn’t even had the courtesy to show up for her date with the woman’s nephew?

Sighing, she juggled the hotel phone from one ear to another while she waited the automated voice on the other end that would inform her of her credit card balance and how much room she had left on the account.

As if she didn’t already know.

Ever since her car had been repossessed, she’d been painfully aware of the dwindling amount in her checking account.

Gazing around at her lush surroundings, Esme soaked up the fine details with an appreciative eye. The tent effect of the taupe-colored linen draped overhead conveyed a warm intimacy even in the sprawling suite. The constant soft gurgle of the brook winding through the living area to finally drain into a grate along the bathroom floor provided a soothing white noise that relaxed her despite the enormous stress of being unemployed, in debt and deprived of transportation.

Sinking deeper into the wingback chair beside the Neo-classical mahogany desk, Esme returned the phone to its cradle, assured she couldn’t possibly pay for the hotel room and still eat for the next week.

Damn Renzo Cesare.

She might have been more inclined to enjoy eating rice for the next seven days if she’d at least had the pleasure of sleeping with him last night. Then she could have justified the astronomical cost for this fantastic room because she would have had delicious memories to tide her over.

But now she was certain to resent every bite of rice since she’d been deprived of fantastic sex last night and she’d be deprived of pizza and chocolate next week.

Frustrated on every level, Esme didn’t appreciate the knock on the door that interrupted her brooding. Didn’t housekeeping have any other rooms to clean? Empty rooms rented by people who actually had a life?

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