His Four Poster Bed (Bedroom Secrets Series Book 2) (2 page)

“Would you like to go on a walk with me?” Marco asked.

“Through the crowd you dislike so much,” I said.

“I know someplace quiet and I have a question for you.”

“A meaningless question?”

“Hardly. It’s quite important. I must know the name of the most beautiful woman in this room.”

“Wow, that’s quite a line.”

“It’s not a line.”

He stared at me, his gaze unwavering. My mouth went dry while the rest of me dripped wet.

“You are showing a lot of your cards tonight, Mr. Amador,” I said, feeling breathless at the ache of desire between my legs.

“I’d like to show you more.” He stepped closer.

“Is that so.”

“I promise this bad boy will behave like a perfect gentleman, I won’t even glance at your bare ankle as you walk in that ridiculously beautiful dress that looks like it could come undone at a glance.”

I wanted Marco to reach out and un-tie the halter knot at the base of my neck. I wanted my dress to fall to my feet and stand naked before this gorgeous man in nothing but my high heels.

“My name is Odessa,” I said, holding out my hand. “Odessa Starr. Dr. Starr actually, I work at Children’s. I’m in research.”

“Odessa Starr.” He made my name sound like a dirty word and I liked it. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He held out his arm. “Shall we walk Dr. Starr?”

I looked at Marco Amador as if we were the only two people in the room. He had given me a choice that night but I felt like my body had chosen for me the moment Marco stood beside me in the dark.

“Yes, let’s take a walk,” I said, taking his arm.

Marco led me across the dance floor and I knew in that moment that I would follow this man anywhere. I just had no idea how far away he would lead me.

The crowd parted for us as if we were royalty.

I glanced back at the bar and caught a glimpse of Shea, her eyes were wide as she watched us leave. Sven her Nordic bartender was chatting away beside her. My ex, Dr. Mike, stood in the middle of the dance floor, his jaw tightening as we briefly made eye contact. It wasn’t hard to read his expression. He was none too pleased to see me on the arm of a stranger, there would be hell to pay in awkwardness after this New Year’s party.

Marco led me out of the ballroom into the white marbled lobby of the Four Seasons Hotel.

The hotel had been remodeled a few years ago, the old building demolished and replaced by a sleek skyscraper. The original marble still graced the main floor giving it an old world elegance that contrasted with the modern lines of the building. A heavy chandelier hung in the middle of the lobby.

Marco walked behind the front desk to elevators that would have looked like a service entrance if it weren’t for the discrete sign that read “Private Residence.”

I stopped in my tracks. “Where are we going?”

He squinted his eyes and leaned in whispering in my ear. “Don’t tell anyone but I live upstairs.”

“You have a private elevator.” I was definitely out of my league here.

“It’s better that way. I like to fly under the radar.”

“I see.” My heart hammering, I thought about what it might be like to walk arm and arm with this man through his private residence, through the front door, past the living room, and straight into his bedroom. “An elevator ride is not much of a walk,” I said.

“I thought you might like to see the view from upstairs.”

Upstairs. Did I want to go upstairs with this man? Yes. Yes, I did.

“The view. You know in college, guys used to offer to show me their fish tank.”

He grinned. “Did that work? I could get a tank.”

I laughed. “No, it didn’t work, and it won’t work tonight.” I looked up into those brown eyes knowing it was going to take a lot of will power to resist touching this beautiful man. I was used to feeling in control of my urges and desires. The attraction I felt to Marco felt raw and uncontainable. With every breath, I could smell his scent, a musky cologne that made me think of sex on silky sheets. I was used to picking safe and predictable men and here I was standing in front of the dangerous and unknown.

Finger poised over the up button, Marco looked at me. “Dr. Starr it’s your call? Would you like to go upstairs with me, or should we return to the party?”

I exhaled and took a deep breath thinking of another hour in the dull ballroom dodging Dr. Mike. I decided that I could handle myself and this man. “The view. I’d like to see the view.”

“Excellent.” Marco pressed the up button.

The doors opened and we stepped inside. There were only two buttons to choose from. Lobby and a single button with the letter P on it.

“P for Penthouse? I asked, pointing to the destination.

“Some call it that,” Marco said. He looked a bit embarrassed.

We stood side by side in silence as the elevator whirred skyward. It seemed to go both incredibly fast and impossibly high. My ears popped as the doors opened revealing a large slate and wood entryway that framed a bank of windows facing the night sky. It looked as though you could reach out and run your fingers through the stars.

“That’s quite a view,” I said walking towards the glass. I slowed as I reached the edge, looking down made me a bit dizzy. Below us I could see the lights of the city, the black waters of Puget Sound and the shadow of the Olympic Peninsula.

“Is it better than a fish tank?” Marco called from behind me. I heard glasses clinking and assumed he was making us another cocktail.

“It’s the edge of the world,” I said, looking back and forth. “No neighbors up this high.”

Marco approached with crystal glasses filled with the now familiar Sapphire Blue cocktail. “I muddled the oranges myself,” he said, handing me one.

“Look at you, the bartender.”

“I got skills,” he said, raising an eyebrow before turning to look out the window. I tried not to stare at his profile, he was gorgeous in a classic way, but the hint of that tattoo was driving me mad. I knew his comment about skills was a reference to his drink making, but I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of skills he might have between the sheets
,
with that mouth and those hands . . . I took a big sip of my drink hoping the cool liquid might temper the fire currently smoldering in my core.

Marco broke the silence, exhaling softly. “The quiet up here. It’s the thing I love best about this place. Up here it feels as though I can truly be alone.”

He spoke with an intensity that made me want to ask more about his desire for a solitary life. There was a sadness in his voice.

“You could walk around here naked and no one would see,” I said, unable to keep from flirting.

“Would you like to test that theory out?”

“No thank you,” I said, softly but smiling what I knew was a wicked grin. This man made me want to do delicious things. What had I gotten myself into and how was I going to get out of here without taking off any of my clothes?

“Tell me about your research at the hospital,” Marco said, as we stood in front of the windows.

“Research, yes.” I took a drink. “I’m lead researcher on the Smart Chemo trials at Children’s. We do genetic analysis of patients and treat the child holistically instead of subjecting them to protocols based on their cancer. So, instead of following some check list for bone cancer, or brain cancer we engineer a solution that we hope will support the genetic makeup of that child.”

He smiled as I talked. “And it’s working?”

“Oh God yes, I mean I can’t say it’s working, but the data is incredibly compelling and I am very hopeful about the next round of patients . . .” My voice trailed off and I glanced at my drink a bit self-conscious. “I can go on and on about this.”

“You are passionate,” he said, looking at me. “It’s wonderful to see.”

“I love my work. When I went to medical school I assumed I’d end up with a private practice, but I’ve found working behind the scenes engineering this type of change is,” I struggled for the word.

“Inspiring?” He said.

“Yes, it inspires me,” I said. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“Would you like to sit?” He pointed to a comfortable white couch in front of the fireplace.

I took a seat while Marco took off his jacket and untied his bow tie. “Are you done with the party?” I asked.

“I don’t want to go back downstairs,” he said, sighing. “You can of course, but I think I’ll stay here and ring in the New Year.” He grabbed a small controller and hit a button, igniting the fireplace. As he reached I caught another glimpse of the green blue tattoo at his throat.

“That’s some ink,” I said, eyebrows raised.

“My father hates it.” Marco grinned and pulled the collar back on his shirt. I could see that the green loop was the top edge of a swirling power circle that extended down his body. My mouth went dry. Ink. Why did the man have to be inked? I loved it.

“Does it mean something?” I asked resisting the urge to touch his skin.

“I started the tattoo after my mother died in high school and I’ve been adding to it ever since.”

“I’m sorry about your mother,” I said.

“So am I.” He smiled and even though it had clearly been years since he had lost her I could see the pain he still lived with.

“So, it covers your shoulder then? The tattoo?” I tried to act nonchalant but I was dying to touch this man.

“It’s a sleeve,” he said pointing to his right arm.

“Nice,” I said breathless. I could feel myself getting wet. I was such a sucker for a tattooed arm. There was something incredibly sexy about a man who had committed to express himself like that.

Next to the fireplace were some built in bookshelves. A painting of the ocean hung above the fireplace.

“You like art?” I said, nodding at the painting.

Marco took a sip of his drink and smiled at me before answering. “I collect beautiful things.”

“And I can’t imagine you’d ever consider a woman a thing.”

“Women are much too powerful to collect,” he said. “Do you know why I purchased those cages downstairs for the auction?”

“You like birds?”

Marco grinned, his eyes crinkling in such an adorable way I wanted to lean forward and kiss him, but I didn’t. “I do like birds, but no. I purchased the collection to remind me of something.”

“Is that so?” I felt as though the distance between us was shrinking with every word.

“I don’t believe in cages,” he said. “I don’t think people should be trapped by their identity, their life or the people they love.”

Marco leaned towards me and I could feel my body tense up as he moved closer.

“You don’t believe in physical cages, or is this some sort of metaphor?” I said, my heart hammering in my chest.

“I don’t believe in controlling anyone who doesn’t want to be controlled,” he said, standing in front of me offering me his hand. I took it and stood before him. He traced a fingertip across my cheek and I inhaled closing my eyes in spite of myself. He had so much confidence, so much strength in his touch.

When my body stopped tingling, I looked into his eyes wondering if he knew that being this close to him sent my mind spinning with all his talk of control.

I wanted him but I couldn’t, I wouldn’t I shouldn’t. To distract myself, I looked over Marco’s shoulder through an open door at the end of the hall. I could see the edge of what looked like an ornate bed, a single wooden post in my view.

“That’s my bedroom,” he said, his voice low, his hand softly stroking my cheek.

“You have a beautiful bed,” I said, knowing I was treading on dangerous ground.

“I told you, I love beautiful things,” he paused for a moment his gaze never leaving my face. “Would you like to see the view from my bedroom Odessa Starr?”

I nodded. Forming words had suddenly become very difficult.

Marco stood and took my hand walking backwards and leading me across the room. “I promised I would be a gentleman,” he said. “I always keep my promises.”

“I am holding you to it.”

“It may get more difficult the closer I get you to that bed.”

“I suppose we will both need to be strong then,” I said, my eyes never leaving his.

He opened his bedroom door and dropped my hand stepping away from me.

The bedroom faced the black water and the stars. There was no one in the world high enough to see into this room. No one who could see what happened in this room inside this four poster bed.

A deep dark wood, the four posters were tall and carved in a swirling pattern that reached towards the ceiling connected at the top with horizontal pieces of wood. I imagined this bed could have resided in a palace with silk curtains enclosing clandestine lovers.

Marco’s bed had no curtains. The bed was bare and exposed staring out into the star filled night. I wondered what it would be like to lay with Marco between the sheets and stare into the sky. This was a bed to make love in and fuck. My cheeks burned as I fantasized about Marco above me, silk scarves in his hand ready to tie me down, to own me, to—

“Do you like the bed?” He asked, smiling.

“It’s quite a bed,” I said, hoping my voice sounded steady.

“You know we are here for the view,” he said, stepping towards me.