He tucked his bag beneath his arm and offered her the wanest of smiles. “I was hoping to see you for dinner after you’ve put in your appearance at your party. We have much to discuss.”
“Oh, do we?” Lana wasn’t sure what he meant, other than making yet another bid for them to become more than a fling. He wants to be my boyfriend. It’s charming. Lana wasn’t sure she would say no, either, had they lived in the same city. At any rate, her career was getting started. Was now really the time to get serious with a guy? “I’m sure I can squeeze you in after eight. Don’t forget I have a flight at one tomorrow.”
“I haven’t forgotten. How could I forget you leaving my fair city?”
Lana shrugged. “I really do not know, Mr. Andrews. Tell you what. I’ll give you my number. For more than business.”
Ken’s fake demeanor dropped in surprise. Lana had him by the balls. Right where she wanted him.
Chapter 11
“I Love You.”
They kissed beneath a string of bulbous Christmas lights, the both of them aware that around the corner were a hundred conference goers having heated discussions and engaging in witty, drunken banter. If they came from the cocktail party thrown in Lana’s honor, it was the latter.
I know I feel giddier than a bubbly glass of champagne. Lana refused to let Ken go. No matter how many times he attempted to break off their kiss, she pressed forward, begging him to give her another taste for a few more seconds. Why he had chosen to take her to dinner at the hotel restaurant remained a mystery, however. Lana didn’t want to waste time going to a fancy restaurant blocks away, no, but would it have killed them to go back to the restaurant Ken owned? More privacy – and the illusion of seeing each other again.
At least he had reserved them a private table behind an opaque glass partition. So very ‘80s, but in a way that screamed You miss this decade, don’t you? Here. Have it tastefully shoved in your face. We guarantee you’ll love it. Perfect for romantic dates at the end of a long conference and even longer fuckfest with a man you met three days ago!
But Lana knew that all it would take was one nosy fucker poking around the end of the partition and finding them in the act. That made kissing Ken so much hotter. Lana hadn’t swapped her makeup palette to match her royal purple cocktail dress to look good in photos. She wanted to wow him. She wanted her lipstick prints all over his collar.
“Ahem,” a waiter said. Ken tensed beneath Lana’s touch. She wasn’t about to let him go, however. It was a waiter! What was he going to do? Tell the whole restaurant that they were making out? Lana moved her lips from Ken’s throat to his clothes, leaving behind that lip print she desperately wanted to give that white fabric. “I’m afraid we’re out of the 1933. May I recommend the 1927? Another fine year.”
Ken agreed to anything. Lana was happy to curl her arm around him again for more kisses. Sure, she’d have to disengage to eat a dinner she starved for, but until then, she was in full date mode.
For some reason, Ken was not in a hurry to keep their play going. As soon as the waiter left, doing his best to not blush at how randy two guests were, Ken sat back in his seat with a sigh. “I’d like to talk, if you don’t mind,” he said to Lana.
“So would I.” Lana was going to save it until later, but she went ahead and popped open her wallet laying in her bag. She pulled out her keycard and slid it across the table. When Ken looked at her suspiciously, she said, “For later. It’s my spare. I plan on getting tipsy enough on that wine you ordered that I might need help getting into my room.”
Ken stared at the card for a second longer than Lana anticipated. Is something wrong? Lana set her worries aside when Ken finally pocketed the card. “A naughty woman as always, Lana.”
She cupped her hand over his on the table. “There’s something else I want to talk about.”
“Hm?”
“I’ve been thinking.” Lana fingered the rim of the votive candleholder flickering in the center of the table. “About, um, us.”
Ken’s fingers curled into a fist beneath Lana’s hand.