was taking my hand, helping me out of the cab, and leading me into the vast unknown.
Pike steered me with a hand on my back into the lavish lobby of the St. Mark. Unlike the modern lines of the club we’d just left or the sleek hotels that filled this part of downtown Dallas, this building had the look of lovingly cared-for historical opulence—inlaid marble tile, rich dark wood furniture, and a grand staircase that would make a bride-to-be weep.
“Wow, this is beautiful,” I whispered, feeling as if I needed to keep my voice down, lest the building realize I was far too small town to be staying in a place so elegant.
Foster smiled down at me as we made our way over to the front desk. “Glad you approve. I book all of my out-of-town clients here.”
Clients?
The statement was like a one-two punch of reality. My step stuttered.
Both guys paused, as if totally in tune with my every movement. “Everything okay?” Pike asked.
I glanced between the two of them. “Yes. Fine. I just . . .”
“Go ahead,” Foster said, giving a nod of encouragement.
“Well, I just realized two things. One, there’s no way I could afford to pay for even half a room here. And, two, I have no idea what you do for a living, Foster.”
Foster leveled a gaze at me. “First, you won’t pay for anything, ever. So let’s get that out of the way.”
“But—”
He put a finger to my lips, my scent still on him. “That part is non-negotiable. Secondly, I own a tech company called 4N Solutions.”
My eyebrows lifted. He
owned
a company? And he shared an apartment in my complex? Either he was very bad at his job, very frugal, or something else was going on there. Maybe he had a lot of college debt or a greedy ex-wife or child support to pay. The last couple of thoughts had my lungs constricting.
“You’re panicking again, doc,” Pike said softly.
Foster lowered his hand. “Cela, if you need to ask more questions, need to know us better before we do this, just say the word. We can go to the bar and talk . . . or even go home if you want.”
I swallowed past the knot in my throat. What did it matter if he had an ex or even if he had kids? This was not the start of a relationship. This was not a compatibility test. This was sex. A fun, hot diversion before I moved home. I knew I was safe with them, and God knows I was attracted to them. Those were the only must-haves for this type of thing.
I nodded. “I’m okay. Maybe y’all can help me shut off my overanalytical brain.”
Pike grinned. “Challenge accepted.”
He slipped an arm around my waist and gave my hip a squeeze, instantly easing that last coup of my old self.
Foster stopped at the front desk and gave the pretty blonde behind the desk his name. “We’ll need a suite for the night.”
“Absolutely, Mr. Foster,” the woman said in that elegant, library-quiet voice that luxury hotel employees must practice. She tapped on her keyboard with long fingernails, then looked up, taking in the three people standing in front of her. “Two queens?”
“Just a king,” Foster said smoothly.
“Of course.” The woman’s lips pressed together, and her gaze slid over to mine.
I braced for the impact, but where I expected judgment, I found envy in the other woman’s eyes. Huh.
Three key cards appeared on the granite countertop. “You’ll be on the top floor to the right. Is there anything else I can help you with? I’m about to go on break, I could show you to your room if you’d like.”
I heard an extra dose of suggestion in the seemingly innocuous statement, but Foster’s response was swift, his smile painstakingly polite. “No thank you . . .” He glanced at her nametag. “Tabitha. We have everything we need.”
Foster grabbed my hand and gathered me to his side. “Come on, angel. I have a feeling the view upstairs is going to be fantastic.”
Oh, I had no doubt. The thought of seeing these two naked had crossed my mind so many times, I could
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