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Ignoring her cousin, as she had most of her life, Ruthie took a deep breath and walked beneath the archway to the aisle. “Just get through the wedding, then you can go back to the hotel and drink enough champagne to work up the nerve to make a serious pass at Bobby,” she told herself.
Maybe Celeste was right. Perhaps the time had come to be direct with Bobby. And tonight would be the perfect time, at the romantic reception held in the wonderful old hotel that was a huge part of Ruthie’s life. Her family’s pride and joy, the Kerrigan Towers was the perfect spot to seduce a man.
Celeste’s father, Ruthie’s uncle, was the manager of the Kerrigan, and had given every member of the bridal party a room for the night. So a seduction could be carried out easily.
It had come as no surprise when Celeste decided to have her reception at the hotel. The Kerrigan had been owned by the Sinclair family for decades. And, like Ruthie, Celeste worked in the hotel, handling the business side of things in the cashier’s office, while Ruthie indulged all her creative urges as the head chef in the hotel kitchens. Celeste had even planned her wedding for a Sunday to be sure everyone would be able to get the evening off, since Saturdays were just too busy.
Casting one more glance over her shoulder, Ruthie saw the joy in Celeste’s face. She wanted that feeling, the feeling of being loved…being in love! She wanted it very badly.
So, seduction at the Kerrigan it would be. She was ready. She could do it. She was a mature, confident woman, a talented chef, a respected hotel board member. None of which changed the fact that she was probably going to make a major fool of herself. But it’s worth a shot!
Giving her flirty lace parasol a spin over her shoulder, she proceeded to march. Right foot. Pause. Left foot. Pause. Concentrate on Celeste’s happiness. Pause. Forget Denise. Pause. Stop imagining what a fool she was going to appear if Bobby turned her down. Pause. Forget her cousins were happily married and she couldn’t even get her boyfriend to cop a feel. Pause. Forget her miserable romantic track record. Pause.
Not to mention her butt-ugly dress.
ROBERT KENDALL felt a trickle of sweat slide from his hairline, through the slight indentation at his temple, and on down his cheek. The din of conversation and tinkling glasses in the crowded hotel bar receded as he focused on his companion, Monica Winchester. And what she’d just handed him. “Your room key?”
Of course it was her room key. He stared dumbly at the small object as if it was a venomous insect about to inject poison into the vulnerable flesh of his right palm.
“I was hoping for a more…enthusiastic response.”
Swallowing hard, Robert finally looked at the other item, the small square on which the key rested. The foil package was unmistakable. Not his brand. Probably not his size. But absolutely recognizable.
“You haven’t said anything.” Monica’s voice gained an edge. “Surely you aren’t surprised by this.”
He looked at the woman seated across from him at the lounge table. Not surprised? How could he not be surprised that his boss’s daughter had handed him her room key—and a condom—and practically ordered him to show up in her room that night?
“Come on, Robert, we’re two consenting adults. We’re in a strange city, stuck in this drafty old hotel for who knows how long. Why don’t we enjoy ourselves while we can?”
Robert stifled the first answer that popped into his head: Gee, maybe because the last Winchester Hotels employee you enjoyed yourself with ended up on the unemployment line.
Instead, he stalled, picking up his vodka tonic and bringing the glass to his lips. He sipped, his mind working overtime to think of a graceful way out of this predicament.
“Monica, obviously I’m flattered,” he said, knowing a lot of men in his situation would jump at what she offered. No question, the woman had an earthy, direct sexiness that would appeal to a lot of men—until they got to know her. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to mix pleasure with business.”
Monica Winchester, obviously not used to being turned down, waved her hand in disregard. “I’m barely involved in the business. I talked my way into this trip for one reason only.”
Robert’s eyes narrowed as she confirmed his suspicion about her motives for insisting she come to Philadelphia with him to check out the Kerrigan Towers. “I wondered about that.”
She smiled broadly. In the dim light of the smoky room her white teeth were predatory. “You’re my father’s golden boy, Robert. The son he’s never had. He relies on you and would like nothing better than for you to become a part of his family. Why do you think he’s been trying so hard to set us up?”
“Pairing us at dinner parties and inviting me for holidays isn’t quite the same as handing me a condom and a room key,” Robert said as he gestured to the waiter for another drink.
She chuckled. “It’s not like it’s an engagement ring. Why can’t we test the waters, see if we’re compatible?”
“Couples generally see if they’re compatible by going out on a few dates, catching a movie, maybe some dinner.”
“I’m not going to waste time having dinner with a man who doesn’t cut it for me in bed.”
Before the waiter could place the fresh drink on the table, Robert grabbed the glass and downed a third of its contents.
“I’ve surprised you.” Her amused tone annoyed him no small amount. “Listen, I have a few calls to make, then I plan to take a hot bubble bath. You stay here, have a drink or two, and come up when you’re ready. My room number’s on the key tag.”
“Monica…” he said as she stood and reached for her bag.
“Don’t say anything now you might regret later, Robert.” He wondered if he heard a threat in her voice. Sleep with me or I’ll get my daddy to fire you? It seemed ridiculous, of course. Ridiculous, but not impossible.
“I’ll see you later.” Not content to just walk away, she bent over and lightly kissed him. “Don’t disappoint me.”
A half hour and an additional drink later, Robert glanced at his watch, debating his course of action. Going to her room was out of the question. He could not have a one-night stand with James Winchester’s daughter. The man had earned Robert’s respect in the eight years they’d worked together. He’d trusted Robert from the first, when he’d been another fresh-from-Grad-school know-it-all who wanted to change the world. Or own it.
Maybe he hadn’t changed the world, but he had helped mold Winchester Hotels into the fastest-rising chain in the country. Not bad for a country boy from North Carolina, who’d never even stayed in a classy hotel until he’d graduated from college.
His parents hadn’t understood his need to get away, to go live in New York City, of all places, leaving behind his five siblings, assorted aunts, uncles and cousins, and the family auto repair business. But Robert had been born with wandering feet, with dreams of building things, maybe even with a bit of a shark’s killer instinct.
Those qualities had served him well in his years working for Winchester Hotels. And James Winchester was not cheap about showing his appreciation. Plus, Robert genuinely liked the man. He couldn’t repay him by sleeping with his “little angel.”
Standing the little angel up, however, seemed infinitely more dangerous. Especially now, during a delicate scouting expedition of this grand old Philadelphia hotel. The Kerrigan Towers would transition nicely into a Winchester Hotel. But not if Monica threw a fit and sabotaged their critical meeting with the current owners the next morning. If she walked in playing corporate prima donna, the board, most of them members of the Sinclair family, would close ranks and fight the inevitable.
One thing he could not do was sit in the bar any longer. Dropping a tip on the table, he left the lounge and entered the deserted