Stephanie Julian - No Reservations

To say their parents had been shocked when they’d announced they were going into business together would be an understatement. And when they’d told their dad their plan, the battle had turned vicious. It’d only been in the past year that he’d come around. Mostly.

They fell silent as he led her down the hallway. Her dark eyes missed nothing as she considered the artwork, studied the carpet, ran her fingers along the molding.

He and Jed had thrown every bit of the considerable fortune their grandfather had left them into making Haven the truly one-of-a-kind experience they’d envisioned.

“I remember thinking how gorgeous my room was when Annie and I stayed here New Year’s Eve. You and Jared really did an amazing job with this place.”

“Thank you.”

Any other time, with anyone else, he would’ve gone on about the features the hotel offered or the accessibility to downtown Philadelphia or some other business-related detail. Jed was the showman, but Tyler was the salesman.

Right now, he wasn’t thinking about anything to do with the hotel. His entire attention was focused on Kate and getting her to the door at the end of the hall. He could have taken her through his office. Like Jed’s, his had a private entrance into the Salon. But that would’ve required a slight delay and he had no time for that.

Finally, they reached the door. Pulling an old-fashioned brass key from his pocket, he turned the lock and pushed open the door.

Soft illumination sparked, and Kate’s mouth dropped open as she entered the room.

“Oh, my God.” Her voice rose barely above a whisper. “I feel like I just stepped through a time portal into Victorian England.”

“Jed was involved in every aspect of designing and decorating this room. My only request was the piano but Jed had already worked that in.”

She slid him a quick glance before returning to study the room. “It’s amazing.”

He had to agree.

But the room was no more stunning than her.

The glow from the crystal chandelier hanging dead center in the ceiling fell over her as she moved into the octagonal room. The light sparkled off her satin dress and her dark hair in a way that made him want to run his hands all over her.

Again, she studied everything, from the ornately decorated ceiling to the plush carpets on the floor.

Lush fabrics covered the chaise lounges, chairs, and ottomans set in several seating groups throughout the room while the octagonal game table with matching chairs sat directly beneath the chandelier.

Golden silk paper gleamed on the walls and a baby grand piano held court in one corner, lit by a leaded glass piano light. He’d spent a lot of time in front of that piano after Mia had died. Luckily, the room was soundproofed so no one was disturbed by his attempts at working out his grief.

Kate began walking around the room, letting her fingers brush against chairs and the heavy purple velvet drapes in front of the windows on either side of the room.

When she reached the fireplace on the opposite side of the room, she actually caressed the carved marble face and mantel.

His jaw clenched. He wanted those fingers to caress his body.

Locking the door so they wouldn’t be interrupted—not that he expected to be but he wasn’t taking any chances—he walked to the nearest seating group and sank into a velvet wingback love seat.

She’d made her way to the huge, glass-front walnut display cabinet that occupied an entire wall of the room before she paused.

He found he’d stopped breathing, wondering if she’d finally realize what she was getting herself into. Some of the pieces in that cabinet were sure to make a novice in certain sexual practices blush.

He wanted to reassure her that he would never push her to do anything she felt uncomfortable with. But when she finally looked over her shoulder at him, instead of surprise, he saw curiosity.

“I’m not totally sure I want to know what some of this stuff is but . . . mostly they’re beautiful. Did you . . . Have you used some of these?”

He took a second to answer, knew he didn’t want to lie to her. “Yes.”

Her breath hitched and again, he couldn’t tell if he’d put her off or turned her on.

“So you’re into BDSM.”

He shook his head. “No, not the whole scene. Bondage, mostly. Dominance. I’m not into the master-slave thing. I don’t think dog collars look good on women.” He paused, watched her lips part as she drew in a deep breath. “But there’s something about giving yourself over to another person so completely . . . something about being restrained by someone you trust, that’s . . . freeing.”

Her eyes had narrowed, as if she were trying to comprehend what he was saying, to figure out the hidden meanings.

For him, there were none. He liked to dominate in bed. He wasn’t interested in making a woman crawl on the floor or lick his feet.

But tie her to a bed—or a chair or a piano bench—and hear her beg for release?

Yeah, he got off on that.

“I’m not sure I could do that.”

“Do what?”

She shook her head and that beautiful hair slid over her shoulder. He wanted to wrap it around his hand and tug her head back so he could kiss her.

“Give that much control over to anyone.”

He rose then, drawn by the sudden uncertainty on her face. But instead of going to her, he headed for the bar next to one of the windows.

“Would you like a drink?”

She didn’t answer right away but he heard her approach.

“Just ginger ale for me please.”

He poured her a glass of soda and handed it over then poured himself a Coke. If she asked to leave because she was freaked out, he didn’t want to have to arrange a ride for her. He wanted to take her himself.

They sipped their drinks in silence before she drifted off to sit on the nearest chaise.

“I know you said you don’t play with Jared’s crowd, but you do use this room?”

“I used to, yes.” With Mia. He didn’t have to say the words. She’d understand what he wasn’t saying.

“So your fiancée was into the same scene?”

He shook his head, squashing a grimace midformation. “Not until she met me.”

“I can imagine you’re pretty good at persuasion.”

“This isn’t something I would ever persuade anyone to do. You have to want to experience it.”

And that’s where Mia had been wrong. She’d thought because he enjoyed it, he’d want her to participate. And he would have. But only if she’d actually enjoyed it and not simply put on a show for him.

He realized Kate was smiling at him and couldn’t figure out why. He didn’t think he’d said anything funny.

“You know, you could come over here and let me try to persuade you to kiss me.”

He froze for a second as his brain processed what she’d said, then he did exactly what she wanted.

He sat next to her on the chaise, with enough space between them that she didn’t feel crowded. Or persuaded.

As he turned back from setting his glass on the nearest table, he found Kate had moved closer. Their height difference wasn’t as noticeable now. His lips practically brushed her forehead and her spicy scent was a stronger draw.

His heart began to pound as her gaze held his and he was glad he’d set down his glass. He might’ve dropped it otherwise.

Especially when she moved even closer and put her hands on his shoulders.

“Or,” she said, “you could let me kiss you?”

So he wouldn’t have to beg? “I have no problem with that.”

He watched as she bit her bottom lip, eyes narrowing as she closed the distance between them completely and her lips finally touched his.

He felt like a teenager at his first make-out party. Overexcited and flushed and horny as all hell. And unsure what to do with his hands.