Deceive - Book 2
I am in trouble .
Heart stopping, palm sweating, what the fuck was I thinking? kind of trouble.
H ow could I have been so careless, so naive, and so stupid? kind of trouble.
I try not to look at him, the man I was so charmed by the night before, who I thought would give me one evening of sensational bliss never to be seen again. I was okay with that. I signed up for that. I didn’t plan for this .
He said his name was Damon. I know now that was a lie.
I lied, too. But it pales in comparison to hiding a wife .
“Ms. Caldwell,” Mrs. Knight says, shaking me out of my stupor. I look up and recognize the striking woman from the lobby he was speaking with last night. He told me there was nothing romantic between them, but as she steps forward and I see the three carat rock on the ring finger of her outstretched hand, it’s as if someone just punched me in the stomach. With trembling fingers, I shake her hand and try to keep my focus on her, but his eyes bare down on me. The room has somehow grown smaller, as if the walls are moving inward, preparing to cave in on me. I see him out of the corner of my eye no matter which direction I look.
“I’m Marissa Knight,” she says with a welcoming smile. “And this is Marcus.”
I refuse to look at him, though looking at her is just as hard. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Knight,” I manage, but the words are sour on my tongue.
“ Ms. Knight,” she corrects. “Marcus is my brother.”
Relief washes over me in one large, consuming wave. She is his sister! Of course she is . I inwardly scold myself for jumping to conclusions.Had I been thinking clearly, I would have remembered reading that the siblings assumed control of the hotel last year. I just assumed that with the ring—I inhale slowly to calm myself. I can certainly understand the perks of Marissa Knight keeping her maiden name.
Now, I have no choice but to acknowledge Marcus. And when I do, all the desire I felt for him only hours ago tingles through my body. I take his hand in a firm shake, pretending I have never touched him before, that I haven’t committed to memory the sensation of his fingers sliding in and out of me.
“Marcus Damon Knight,” he corrects.
His sister flashes him an odd look, but he pays her no attention. I can see it now, the resemblance of the two, with their lustrous jet-black hair and creamy olive skin. Though whereas Marissa’s eyes are the color of dark melted chocolate, his are piercingly bright blue.
“Pleasure to meet you,” I say and release his grasp as soon as it is polite enough to do so.
Marissa gestures to the chair in front of the desk she is leaning on. “Have a seat.” She follows suit, taking the chair beside me while Damon…I mean, Marcus, sits behind the desk.
She pulls out a piece of paper and I know what it is before she speaks. Swallowing hard, I again do my best to keep my eyes on her, even though I know he’s watching me intently. He manages to hide the scowl on his face from his sister, but not from me.
Oh God. What is going through his head ?
Does he think I knew who he was all along? That this is a game I was playing?—that I slept with him on purpose in hopes of getting the job? I want to hang my head and run out of this room as fast as I can.
No. I want this job. I need this job and I would be great at it. But all I can think is I’ve lost my chance—because I let some stranger fuck me against his penthouse suite window.
“Your resume is impeccable, Ms. Caldwell,” Marissa says, her eyes skimming the sheet of paper in her hand. “Four years with Hilton and three years as manager with Embassy Suites.” She looks up at me with a genuine smile. “Seems you know the hotel industry well.”
I turn in my seat, crossing my legs toward her, blocking out the sight of Marcus who hasn’t taken his eyes off me. Clearing my throat, I put on my professional face. I may not be able to win Marcus over, but I can sure as hell try
I am in trouble .
Heart stopping, palm sweating, what the fuck was I thinking? kind of trouble.
H ow could I have been so careless, so naive, and so stupid? kind of trouble.
I try not to look at him, the man I was so charmed by the night before, who I thought would give me one evening of sensational bliss never to be seen again. I was okay with that. I signed up for that. I didn’t plan for this .
He said his name was Damon. I know now that was a lie.
I lied, too. But it pales in comparison to hiding a wife .
“Ms. Caldwell,” Mrs. Knight says, shaking me out of my stupor. I look up and recognize the striking woman from the lobby he was speaking with last night. He told me there was nothing romantic between them, but as she steps forward and I see the three carat rock on the ring finger of her outstretched hand, it’s as if someone just punched me in the stomach. With trembling fingers, I shake her hand and try to keep my focus on her, but his eyes bare down on me. The room has somehow grown smaller, as if the walls are moving inward, preparing to cave in on me. I see him out of the corner of my eye no matter which direction I look.
“I’m Marissa Knight,” she says with a welcoming smile. “And this is Marcus.”
I refuse to look at him, though looking at her is just as hard. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Knight,” I manage, but the words are sour on my tongue.
“ Ms. Knight,” she corrects. “Marcus is my brother.”
Relief washes over me in one large, consuming wave. She is his sister! Of course she is . I inwardly scold myself for jumping to conclusions.Had I been thinking clearly, I would have remembered reading that the siblings assumed control of the hotel last year. I just assumed that with the ring—I inhale slowly to calm myself. I can certainly understand the perks of Marissa Knight keeping her maiden name.
Now, I have no choice but to acknowledge Marcus. And when I do, all the desire I felt for him only hours ago tingles through my body. I take his hand in a firm shake, pretending I have never touched him before, that I haven’t committed to memory the sensation of his fingers sliding in and out of me.
“Marcus Damon Knight,” he corrects.
His sister flashes him an odd look, but he pays her no attention. I can see it now, the resemblance of the two, with their lustrous jet-black hair and creamy olive skin. Though whereas Marissa’s eyes are the color of dark melted chocolate, his are piercingly bright blue.
“Pleasure to meet you,” I say and release his grasp as soon as it is polite enough to do so.
Marissa gestures to the chair in front of the desk she is leaning on. “Have a seat.” She follows suit, taking the chair beside me while Damon…I mean, Marcus, sits behind the desk.
She pulls out a piece of paper and I know what it is before she speaks. Swallowing hard, I again do my best to keep my eyes on her, even though I know he’s watching me intently. He manages to hide the scowl on his face from his sister, but not from me.
Oh God. What is going through his head ?
Does he think I knew who he was all along? That this is a game I was playing?—that I slept with him on purpose in hopes of getting the job? I want to hang my head and run out of this room as fast as I can.
No. I want this job. I need this job and I would be great at it. But all I can think is I’ve lost my chance—because I let some stranger fuck me against his penthouse suite window.
“Your resume is impeccable, Ms. Caldwell,” Marissa says, her eyes skimming the sheet of paper in her hand. “Four years with Hilton and three years as manager with Embassy Suites.” She looks up at me with a genuine smile. “Seems you know the hotel industry well.”
I turn in my seat, crossing my legs toward her, blocking out the sight of Marcus who hasn’t taken his eyes off me. Clearing my throat, I put on my professional face. I may not be able to win Marcus over, but I can sure as hell try
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