Room 1208 (9 page)

She snuggled against him. The yawn came out of
nowhere, catching her by surprise. “What time is it?” she murmured.

“Almost five.”

She sat up. “Holy cow, I’ve been up for almost
twenty four hours!”

He laughed. “Me too. But I don’t feel tired.” His
eyes went dark with pent-up desire.

Maggie blushed. “I could use a cup of coffee,”
she demurred.

In the gray light of early morning Times Square
didn’t appear as bright and glaring. They stopped at a vending cart where Jason
bought two cups of coffee and a bear claw. They handed the warm pastry back and
forth, taking bites and drinking their coffee as they ambled back to the hotel.
Delivery trucks of all sizes moved up and down the streets or blocked
alleyways. Workers opened caged storefronts, swept and hosed down dirty
sidewalks. A subway rumbled underground, steam rose up from a sidewalk grate.

It was just as they’d rounded the corner near the
entrance to the hotel that Jason said—his voice far too casual to hide that
he’d been thinking about this for a while. “Did you date anyone…had you been in
any, uh, relationships before that night in Chicago, Maggie?”

Her feet suddenly felt like they were glued to
the pavement. She could only stare at him mutely as realization spread across
his features. His expressions were almost comical as he looked at her with
disbelief, then male pride, then fury. His face went pale.

“You little idiot,” he muttered, his eyes turning
into ice.

Maggie gasped when he grabbed her hand and pulled
her towards the hotel entrance. She dragged her feet. “Jason, let me explain…”

“Don’t say a word,” he seethed. “Wait until we
get up to the room.”

She was grateful there was no one in the lobby
other than a yawning front desk clerk and another hotel employee setting up the
coffee service. Neither one appeared to notice anything unusual as Jason moved
quickly towards the elevators, his hand gripping her elbow in an unbreakable
hold.

She stared at his reflection in the polished
metal elevator door as the car ascended. He looked absolutely furious. She
shivered, feeling a trace of real fear. How well
did
she know this man,
really?

He held out his hand for the room key when they
reached 1208. She was shaking so badly by that point that he took her purse
from her hands and retrieved the key. He shoved the door open and propelled her
inside, tossing her purse aside as he swung her around to face him. His fingers
dug into her forearm, his fierce blue eyes stabbed into her.

“What the
hell
were you thinking that
night?” His voice was low and seething which somehow made it sound even worse
than if he’d shouted at her.

She swallowed, unable to speak, staring at him
with wide eyes.

“I could have been anyone! A rapist, a serial
killer, for
Chrissake
!”

She swallowed again, lowered her eyes from the
burning anger in his. “B-but you weren’t.”

He cupped her face in his hands, holding it in an
almost painful grip as he brought his own face closer, forcing her to look at
him. “You should thank God that I wasn’t, Maggie Rose. You should thank—” He
bit off his tirade, clearly too enraged for words. He pressed his lips together
in a taut line, shook his head back and forth a few times, something other than
anger flickering in his eyes, something that almost looked like fear. His voice
was deadly quiet when he was finally able to speak again. “When I think of what
might have happened to you if I hadn’t been there… If it hadn’t been me…” He
blinked several times then suddenly released her, brushed past her and strode
over to the corner of the room. He stood motionless, his back to her, ramrod
straight.

Maggie found her breath. It sank in at last that
his anger stemmed from genuine fear, fear that something terrible might have
happened to her. Her heart ached for him even as it swelled with this further
proof of how much he cared for her. She stepped further into the room, paused a
few feet behind him. “But it
was
you, Jason. I am so grateful that it
was you. I hoped and prayed that it would be someone like you.”

He remained silent for so long that she wondered
if she might truly have lost him. But when he finally turned around the anger
had been replaced with confusion and something that looked like regret. “Help
me understand why you would do that. Why you’d let a total stranger take your
virginity. Why not a boyfriend? A man you were in a steady relationship with?”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Tell me.” He stepped closer to her.

“Okay, but can we please sit down? I’m feeling
just a little intimidated with you hovering over me like that.”

He raised his eyebrows, took a step back. He
gestured to the armchair. “Sit down, then.”

She sidled by him and perched on the edge of the
chair. He sat down on the corner of the bed, folded his arms across his chest,
his gaze level and remote. She rubbed her lips together. “I’ve never shared
what happened that night with anyone, even my therapist,” she murmured.

When he said nothing, she gave a deep sigh. “You
have to agree that I didn’t have the best role models growing up, Jason. All I
knew about sex until I was about fourteen was that it was a weapon, a way to
taunt and hurt. I never saw any examples at home of what a real, loving
relationship should be. Sex Ed at school taught me the basics of reproduction,
but that was just the how to’s. We didn’t go to church, so I’d never learned
any kind of spiritual or religious perspective on sex and relationships either.
I was completely on my own.” She looked down at her clenched hands. “Because I
was fat, because I didn’t like myself, I didn’t have the normal boyfriend
experiences most girls have in school. I’ve never been on a date.”

He inhaled sharply. “Not even after you lost the
weight?”

She continued to focus on her hands, unable to
look at him, afraid that she might see pity in his eyes. “I was scared. By the
time I’d reached a point where I felt more comfortable and confident with
myself, I was almost thirty years old. I dreaded all of those inevitable
questions that can come up on dates, like how many relationships I’d been in,
had I ever been in love, where and when was my first time. You know what I
mean? I didn’t want to tell anyone that I was a virgin and the reasons why. But
I didn’t want to make up lies either and start a relationship on the wrong
foot. I just thought—I
knew
—that once I didn’t have that fear and dread
hanging around my neck that I could finally move forward, be more comfortable
and open.”

“So you decided to hook up with some stranger at
an airport hotel. How romantic.”

Maggie glanced up at him. He was glaring again.
She felt a stir of reciprocal anger. “It wasn’t like I didn’t put a lot of
thought into it. I was very cautious about the location and my safety. I was already
making plans to go to Denver the following week and take care of the matter
there. I didn’t expect Sarah to leave me alone at that hotel. The opportunity
presented itself and I took it.” Her tone was vehement as she matched his frown
with her own. “And I’m glad I did, Jason.
Glad
. I have no regrets.”

He shook his head. “What if it hadn’t been me?
What if it’d been some asshole who was rough with you?”  His frown was stark
against his pale features.

Heart near bursting with emotion, she dropped to
her knees in front of him, tugged at his hands and brought them to her face.
“But it was you,” she said again. “Why agonize over what might have happened?
Remember what
did
happen. You gave me the most beautiful night, the most
wonderful memories of my life.”

His features relaxed. He traced his fingers over
her face. “
Did
I, Maggie? I didn’t hurt you?”

Her eyes moistened. “No. You were so gentle with
me.”

“That second time…I was rough.”

“I loved every minute of it.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rubbed
his thumb against her temple. He swallowed. “I wish I’d known. I would have
done things differently.”

Her swelling heart forced all the air out of her
lungs. “Oh?” she gasped. “Like what? Everything seemed absolutely perfect to
me.”

He pressed a smiling kiss to her forehead, then
brushed his mouth whisper-soft over her eyelids. “I.” He kissed her nose.
“Would’ve.” He kissed one cheek. “Gone.” He kissed the other cheek. “Much
slower.” He kissed her mouth. His warm tongue traced the outline of her parted
lips before taking a leisurely dive inside, touching her own tongue in languid
inquiry as his thumbs stroked her cheeks in unhurried, gentle circles.

Maggie sighed into his mouth, savoring his slow,
hot kiss, so different from any kiss they’d shared before. Everything, at last,
was out in the open. She had no more secrets to share other than that she had
fallen in love with him, was
in
love with him. She poured all of that
love into the kiss, communicated it in her hands as she wrapped them around his
broad shoulders and tugged him closer.

Eventually he drew his mouth from hers, brushed
his morning beard across her cheek as he muttered in her ear. “I lied, Maggie
mine.”

“Hmm?” She licked his ear.

“There’s no way on earth I can go slow with you.
Not right now. I’ve been hard for you since you opened that door. If I’m not
inside of you in the next two minutes I’m going to embarrass myself.”

Her laugh was sultry. “I was hoping you’d say
that.”

In a heartbeat she was on her back on the bed as
Jason yanked off her shoes and threw them across the room. She canted her hips,
making it easier for him to pull off her yoga pants and underwear while she
yanked her sweatshirt over her head. Her arms got caught in the sleeves, and
for a few seconds her face was trapped inside the soft cotton material. She
burst out laughing as he swiftly completed the task. He knelt over her, a
wicked grin on his face as he unsnapped her bra and tossed it aside. His hands
latched onto her breasts, thumbs grazing her erect nipples, his expression
lusty and yearning.

Maggie undid the button of his jeans, pulled the
zipper down. She rubbed her palm over the rigid bulge of his erection concealed
by his black underwear.

Jason sucked in a breath. “Easy there, sugar. I’m
about to burst.”

“I love it when you call me sugar,” she teased,
tugging his jeans and underwear down at the same time.

He leaned back, tearing at the buttons on his
shirt.

Seconds later they were both completely naked,
kneeling in front of each other on the king-sized bed. Jason touched her shoulders
with trembling fingers, drawing her closer until they were pressed together,
skin to skin. He sat back on his haunches, wrapping one arm around her waist,
the other cupping her butt. “Put your legs around me,” he demanded hotly,
sucking at her earlobe.

As she brought her legs around his waist he
lifted her up, holding her just above his massive erection. “Put me inside
you,” he demanded again.

She reached between them, taking him in hand and
guiding him to her wet entrance. “So bossy you are—oh, oh, God, that feels so
good.” She sank down on him to the hilt, gasping and moaning as she felt his
long, thick heat filling her. She clutched at his back, fingers digging into
muscle and skin as he used his hand at her butt to lift her up and down.

He buried his mouth against her throat, teeth
nipping, sucking, his chest reverberating with deep groans of pleasure. Maggie
rubbed her breasts against him, sweet sensation darting from the tips of her
breasts to her feminine core. She arched back, brought her fingers to her
clitoris and stroked in feverish circles, faster, faster, sensation spiraling
higher, stronger until it all became too much. She wailed his name in ecstasy
as she came apart in his arms.

“
Maggie
,” he shouted as his orgasm chased
after hers, spilling liquid heat deep inside of her.

He grunted, tilted forward, pressing her down
into the mattress, staying inside of her as he continued to rock his hips
against hers. “Can’t get enough of you,” he huffed against her breasts. “Will
never get enough.”

She tunneled her fingers through his hair, her
eyes closed, ready to surrender to a blissful sleep when she became aware that
he hadn’t softened inside of her. He was still hard, his thrusts becoming more
forceful, demanding a reciprocal response from her. She expressed her willing
consent by eagerly wrapping her legs around him, locking her ankles over his
lower back as she clutched his head against her breasts.

He took a nipple into his mouth, tongued and
suckled her, drawing a keening sound from her throat. He squeezed her other
breast, a fingernail rasping across the tip. She cried out again, almost
delirious with the jolts of pleasure he ignited with every touch. She clenched
around his erection, her body shaking with a second orgasm.

And still it wasn’t enough. He continued to feast
on her breasts, his pelvis digging into hers as he tried to push deeper,
harder. He rubbed against that special place inside of her and she arched her
back in surprise, shocked that she could come again so soon. She opened her
mouth in a soundless moan as she surrendered body and soul. And this time he came
with her, pulsating deep inside of her, murmuring her name over and over until
he finally collapsed on top of her.

Through the haze of encroaching, satiated sleep
she felt him pull out of her and roll to his side. He dragged her against him,
wrapped his arms around her as though she were his anchor in a stormy sea.

“Maggie,” he whispered. “
Mine
.”

The jarring ring of the bedside
telephone rudely pulled her out of a deep, dreamless sleep. She stretched
across the bed to answer it, eyes half closed. “Hello?”

It was a recorded message, a wake-up call. It was
eight o’clock.

Sweet, blissful memories of making love with
Jason flooded over her. She looked over her shoulder, expecting to see him
lying beside her, but his side of the bed was empty. No sounds came from the
bathroom. He was gone. She was almost on the verge of tears until she saw the
folded note next to her pillow. She opened it.
Good morning, Maggie Rose. I
didn’t want to wake you. I’ll see you soon. Hope you didn’t mind the wake-up
call. Thank you for another beautiful night. J.

She pressed the note to her smiling, tremulous
mouth. When the phone rang again she reached for it eagerly, happiness in her
voice, hoping it was him. “Hello?”

“Hey, Maggie, it’s Tim. Did you get a good
night’s sleep?”

She guessed she’d probably slept for less than
two hours, but she felt wide awake, excitement at the knowledge that she would
see Jason in only a couple of hours pouring adrenaline through her veins. “I
sure did,” she fibbed.

“Good, good. I’m heading down to the lobby café
in about forty minutes. Can you be ready by then? Rob wants to strategize
before we head over to Jagz.”

After assuring Tim she’d be there, she hung up
the phone and raced to the bathroom. She turned on the shower then took a look
at herself in the mirror. She did a double-take, eyes wide with horror when she
saw the reddish-purple mark on one side of her neck, just above her collarbone.
Against her pale skin it stood out like a dollop of blackberry jam in a glass
of milk.

“That man!” she seethed even as her body tingled
with the heady memory of his mouth at her neck. “Did he have to give me a
hickey right
there
?”

And then she started laughing. Anyone who
could’ve seen her at that moment would’ve thought she was a candidate for a
straitjacket. Her very first hickey. She remembered the fast girls in high
school wearing them with pride. She’d been both appalled and envious. It was a
sign of ownership, the age-old need for man to mark his territory, his
possessions.

Thank God she’d thrown a scarf in her carry-on at
the last minute, thinking she might need it on the plane. It wouldn’t be perfect,
but it would have to do.

Thirty minutes later she took one last inspection
in the hallway mirror. The black, sleeveless sheath dress hugged her curves, emphasizing
her sculpted shoulders and arms. The length hit just above the knees. She’d
decided to keep her legs bare, a pair of nude pumps giving the illusion of
longer legs. The final—unplanned—accessory was a silk scarf in sapphire blue,
twisted just so to hide the betraying mark on her neck. She hoped it stayed
put.

Grabbing her black leather handbag, she headed
out of the room. There was only a little over one hour to go before she saw
Jason again.

Mike Brosky hailed her when she entered the busy
café in the hotel lobby. “Mags! Over here.”

She threaded her way through the tables to a
booth in the corner where Tim, Rob and Kayla were seated. Mike had stood up to
greet her. “Good morning,” he said, taking her elbow and pulling her in to kiss
her cheek. “You look great!”

Maggie flushed at the unexpected gesture.
Samantha and Dan had been right; he was definitely hitting on her. Talk about
poor timing. “Good morning,” she murmured, managing to draw gently and politely
away instead of giving in to the urge to yank her arm out of his grip. His palm
rested on her lower back, guiding her into the booth. He sat down beside her,
the fabric of his suit jacket brushing against her bare arm. She thought of
another booth and another man and wished the next forty minutes or so would fly
by as quickly as possible.

A waitress appeared. Everyone else had already
placed their order. Maggie quickly scanned the menu before deciding on some
whole wheat toast and a cup of coffee.

“That’s it?” Mike asked.

“I’m not that hungry,” she hedged. “I guess I’m
too nervous to eat much.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” he
assured her. But his tone was too jovial; she saw the panic lurking beneath his
smooth, salesman façade.

“I still don’t understand why this couldn’t have
been handled on a web conference call,” Kayla sniped.

“Because the client wanted to meet her in
person,” Tim reminded her placidly.

“You’re our multi-million dollar baby, Maggie,”
Rob said. “Are you ready to face Jason Armitage?”

Oh, was she ever. She swallowed a bubble of
laughter. If they only knew. Especially Kayla. Maggie would just love to wipe
that smirk off of the other woman’s face once and for all. But she nodded
demurely. “Of course! I think we all might be making too much of this. I have a
good feeling that he’ll hire us.”

But deep inside she felt a twinge of doubt.
Would
he? He hadn’t said that he liked the campaign. Maybe he’d want her to change it
completely. And what happened next in their relationship? Already she was
grieving the impending distance between them. She’d be flying back to Des
Moines that afternoon. Over a thousand miles would separate them.

Rob’s voice filtered through her tumultuous
thoughts. “…so when we get there, Maggie, let me make the introductions. I’ll
then turn it over to you to field his questions, but you need to throw any
logistical questions back to Mike or me. You just talk about the storyline.
Maybe he just wants to know how you came up with the idea. How about…”

He droned on. Oh, heaven forbid. How would she
explain—in front of everyone—where the idea had come from? Now she really
did
feel nervous. But she nodded her head in agreement, murmured her acquiescence
here and there as needed, and let her thoughts drift back to room 1208 and
tangled bed sheets drenched with his scent. She wiggled in her seat.

“Ready, then?” Mike said, tugging her arm as he
slid out of the booth.

“You bet!”

The limo ride to Jagz Headquarters took less than
ten minutes. Mike took charge of getting their visitor passes at the street
level security desk before leading them to the elevators. The Jagz offices
occupied the top two floors. As the elevator ascended, Maggie wondered if Jason
owned the entire building or just rented the space. She hadn’t given a thought
to how wealthy or powerful he might be. Honestly, she didn’t care. Such
superficialities weren’t what had attracted her to him in the first place. She
smiled to herself, recalling the rich, velvet tone of his laughter that first
night, the discreet exchange of glances across a busy hotel lounge, the
expression of mutual desire. Six months ago. It seemed just like yesterday.

A young woman greeted them at the reception desk
as they exited the elevator. “Hello again,” she said, nodding to the other
four. She gave Maggie a warm smile. “And you must be Miss Edwards. Mr. Armitage
is expecting you.”

“Great,” Mike said. “We’re all looking forward to
meeting him.” He placed his hand in the small of Maggie’s back.

There was a moment of hesitation in the woman’s
polished demeanor. “Let me show you all to the conference room. Follow me,
please.”

The conference room was at the end of a wide
hallway that was lined with glassed-in offices. One or two employees glanced up
as the entourage passed by, but most seemed elbows-deep in work. The atmosphere
smacked of quiet, focused efficiency. The receptionist opened a pair of wide
maple doors and directed them in to a large conference room. A huge maple and
glass conference table was the centerpiece of the room, flanked by
floor-to-ceiling windows that offered views of the surrounding buildings.

They were up high enough that Maggie caught a
glimpse of the Empire State Building. Unaware of Mike following her, she went
to the windows to better appreciate the view.

“Neat, huh?” Mike said, the Iowa farm boy peeking
through his smooth salesman exterior. “I just love New York.”

Maggie nodded as she stared down at the bustling
street below.

“If we have time before the flight this
afternoon,” he went on, “I’d like to show you around. Times Square is just a
few blocks away. You’ve got to see it.” He touched her shoulder, his fingers
brushing along the edge of her scarf. “How about it, Mags?”

Someone cleared his throat loudly behind them.
Maggie spun around, already knowing who had entered the room.

Jason stood in the doorway, cool and austere. His
eyes, laser-sharp, stared directly at her before sliding briefly to where
Mike’s fingers still rested on her shoulder. A faint tinge of color stretched
across his cheekbones. His eyes flickered away, including everyone in his
smooth greeting as he said, “So this is the Pelham and Mason team. Thanks for
staying an extra day. I trust it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

Maggie stepped away from Mike’s touch. God, Jason
looked so handsome in his charcoal gray suit and tie. But why was he angry? It
wasn’t so evident that the others would notice, but she knew he was ticked off
about something.

Rob stretched out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to
meet you, Mr. Armitage. I’m Rob Pelham and this is my business partner, Tim
Mason.”

Jason shook their hands and then Kayla’s as Rob
introduced her.

Mike stepped forward. “I’m Mike Brosky, sir. I’ll
be your account executive. That is, if you decide to run with our ideas. And I
sincerely hope you do.” His last word ended with a slight, grimacing sound.
Maggie glanced at their clasped hands. Jason looked to be about two seconds
away from breaking Mike’s hand.

“And I’m Maggie Edwards,” she said quickly,
moving forward and holding out her hand.

Only Maggie saw the sneer in Jason’s expression
as he released Mike’s hand and turned towards her. She lifted one eyebrow.
Really?
What are we, twelve?
Amusement slowly curved the sneer into a smile.
“Maggie,” he murmured, taking her hand. “Short for Margaret?”

She bit down a surge of laughter. “Just Maggie.”

He rubbed the pad of his thumb against her palm
before slowly releasing her hand. “Well, Just Maggie, I’d like to speak with
you privately. The receptionist was to take you to meet me first. Would you
come with me please?”

She felt her face turn cherry red at the slight,
almost indecipherable emphasis he put on the word
come
. She had to look
away from the hot need that instantly flared in his eyes. Rob was making
animated eye rolls, clearly demanding that she keep Jason in the room. Tim
looked flummoxed. Kayla looked jealous. Mike had retreated to one corner,
cradling his hand.

“Uh, yes, of course,” she murmured, ignoring Rob’s
frustrated gestures as she followed Jason out of the room.

He adjusted his stride so that she could catch up
with him. He gave her a sideways glance. “Tired?” he asked in a low voice.

“Strangely, no. I could run a marathon.”

He grinned. “I know what you mean.”

He took her through the reception area towards
another set of maple doors. The receptionist looked up from her computer. “Sorry
about that, Jason.”

“It’s okay, Katie.”

He steered Maggie through the doorway into an
outer office. An older woman, his executive assistant, Maggie assumed, greeted
him. “Would you like me to bring in some coffee, Jason?”

He looked inquiringly at Maggie. She shook her
head. “No thanks, Emily,” he said smoothly. “Please see that we’re not disturbed.”

“You got it.”

Yet another door led into a spacious office,
almost the same size as the conference room, with similar windows looking out
on the city. A large mahogany desk occupied one corner. A gorgeous Persian rug
covered the center of the maple hardwood floor. A brown leather and suede sofa
and two matching armchairs decorated another corner. Maggie soaked this all in
during the three seconds it took for Jason to close and quietly lock the door
before turning around and yanking her into his arms. He plundered her mouth
with a lush, ardent kiss. Her body sagged against his, her knees turning to
water. She clutched at his shoulders. He grabbed her hips and pressed her
against his burgeoning erection. A groan emanated from deep in his chest.

They were both gasping for breath when he
eventually released her mouth. He panted in her ear. “Three hours and ten
minutes since I last held you, sugar. Did you miss me?”

“You have to ask?”

She gave a muted shriek when he suddenly scooped
her up into his arms. He strode over to the sofa and sat down with her draped
across his lap. She settled into the curve of his arm, pressed her cheek
against his chest as she looked up at him. He gazed down at her, the lines and
grooves of his face relaxing into an expression of supreme contentment. They
remained quiet for several minutes, simply soaking each other in.

She played with his tie. “You look so handsome in
this suit,” she said, breaking the silence. “I love the way you took command of
that room. It was so…manly.”

He chuckled. “Manly, hmm? Furious is more like
it. I wanted to rip that idiots head off. How dare he touch my girl.”

“Yes, I figured that out pretty quickly. Mike’s
harmless.”

His fingers dug into her hip. “It didn’t look
that way from where I was standing. I heard him asking if he could show you the
sights. Something going on there I should know about?”

“No,” she denied vehemently. “That’s the first
time he’s, uh, made a play for me. I was shocked, actually. Talk about poor timing.”

“Indeed. Would you have considered him if you and
I…?”

She shrugged. “I can’t lie. The thought crossed
my mind a few times. But I didn’t want to get involved with anyone at work.”
She rubbed her nose against his shirt-clad chest, breathing him in. “Besides,
he wasn’t you. You’ve spoiled me for anyone else.”