Too Grand for Words (BookStrand Publishing Romance) by Natasza Waters

or am I coming up?” he asked with meaning.
    “Steven, it was really nice that you took my brood to the park this morning—”
    “So I’m coming up,” he interrupted.
    “No.”
    “Then get down here, Ms. Viterra, two minutes.” His command left no room for a rebuttal.

    * * * *

    He put the courtesy phone down and took a breath, turning so he wouldn’t miss her when she came from the elevators. He waited, leaning against a bank of slot machines with his arms crossed.
    A couple of young women walked past him, not bothering to hide the look of lust in their eyes. One was a brunette, the other a blonde. Both of them skinny, and both with their paid-for breasts popping out of their tops, slowed then stopped, in front of him.
    He observed them with what he hoped was cold disinterest. He wished he had a buck for every time he’d seen that look in a woman’s eyes, and what was about to follow.
    “Hey,” the blonde said, moistening her predatory red lips. “I think I know you.”
    She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her too-tight jeans, pushing her chest out. Swaying her hips in an exaggerated way, she approached him. She was the farthest thing away from sexy to him. They weren’t hookers, but they might as well have been. It didn’t matter whether he was in Las Vegas or Hollywood. Every wannabe showgirl or actress with no talent tried to make up for it with sex.
    “Don’t think so,” he drawled. His gaze shifted to the quiet brunette who stood in the background wearing an impish smile. He wondered how many times they’d screwed a guy together.
    “Aren’t you Steven Porter?” the blonde asked. “I think we were at a party together in LA.”
    “Could be.” Not even his disinterested responses had an effect on the woman’s hungry eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of grace in her. She’d open her legs for absolutely anyone. Fuck, he was tired of that. Faces and bodies without depth.
    The doors to the elevator opened and Moira stepped out. She walked down the aisle toward him. Unfurling his arms, he stepped away from the machines so she could see him. Warmth ricocheted through his body. She’d piled her hair on the top of her head with wisps of curls tickling her cheeks. Beautiful gold earrings dangled from her lobes.
    Moira stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the two women in front of him. She did an about-face so fast he didn’t think a military man could have done a better job. Holy shit, she was going to bolt, he thought.
    “Moira,” he called, even though he knew she wouldn’t stop. He put himself in front of her, threw his hands around her waist, and peered into her eyes.
    Staring down at the floor instead of him, she said, “I think I forgot something in the room.”
    He leaned to her ear and whispered, “Lunch is that way.” He slipped his hands to her bare shoulders. The tingle in his fingers radiated through him instantly. Suddenly, something else began to throb as well. “But if you would like to go back up to your room I think lunch would be just as enjoyable there.” He knew she would change direction immediately.
    Slowly, her head rose. Her beautiful siren eyes called him closer. He made the few inches between them disappear. Seductively, he tempted her mouth with his tongue, and she responded—her lips melting against his.
    A wave of hungry energy passed between them. He wanted to seduce her slowly, until she begged for him. He knew he was trying to climb a mountain he’d never be able to crest, because she wouldn’t ask him for anything. Her eyes remained closed as if she were happy to stay in their kiss when he pulled away from her. God, he loved when she did that.
    “Fine,” she said, then cleared her throat. “Lunch and then—”
    “And then we’ll figure something out,” he interrupted, turning her gently toward the door.
    As they walked toward the exit, he saw the two wannabes watching them. The blonde raised her brow. Her expression turning from surprise to a