Dirty Little Promise (Forbidden Desires #2)

Emma

Talk about a bumpy landing.

Not the pilot. He did his job perfectly, lowering the jet so smoothly onto the airstrip, I didn’t notice we had landed until I saw palm trees out my window. Gavin and me, on the other hand? Things between us were so rocky, I didn’t know if there would ever be smooth sailing again.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

We spent most of the limo ride in silence. Gavin had opened up on the jet about his relationship with Ashley, but I still had a lot of questions. I’d been down the abusive-relationship road before, and no matter how much I cared about Gavin, there was no way I would let myself get hurt like that again.

When we arrived at the hotel, the limo driver opened my door, and I was instantly struck by the soft salty smell of the warm beach air. Just being outside felt like a dip in the ocean, and I couldn’t wait to clear my head by the water. When I stepped out of the limo, I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping out loud.

This hotel was like something out of a movie.

Since I started seeing Gavin, I thought I was getting used to seeing how the other half lived. But this place? It was unreal, the kind of hotel where celebrities and wealthy politicians stayed.

The doorman greeted us and held the huge swinging door open as we entered the most gorgeous lobby I’d ever seen. Glossy marble floors stretched out in front of us, and a row of gold-tiled columns led us to the front desk. A massive three-tiered floral arrangement stood in the center of the lobby, with more flowers in it than I could count. The backdrop of the lobby featured floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the pristine beach just a short walk away. I couldn’t tell if it was the flowers or the view, but I was starting to feel a little light-headed.

At the front desk, the attendant gave Gavin our room keys, and the bellhop piled our luggage onto a cart. We rode the elevator up sixteen floors before the doors opened with a loud ding. The bellhop led us down a short hallway before pausing briefly in front of our door after he opened it.

“Welcome to your oceanfront suite,” the bellhop said, gesturing for us to enter.

Gavin motioned for me to go ahead, his fingertips brushing the small of my back as I passed before quickly pulling back as he caught himself and fisted his hands at his sides. The first room we walked into had a plush white linen sofa on one wall, a flat-screen TV on the other, and a large driftwood-and-glass coffee table in the middle. The wall directly across from us featured floor-to-ceiling windows, giving us the perfect view of miles and miles of clear blue ocean.

I could already tell that it would be hard not to get swept away in the beauty of this place.

After the bellhop dropped our luggage in the doorway, Gavin slipped him a twenty and shut the door behind him.

“Would you like the grand tour?” he asked coolly.

I didn’t miss the hint of frustration in his voice, but could tell that he was trying to be civil.

“Why not?” I said, doing my best to hide the excitement in my voice. Even if things between us were icy, I was eager to see what the rest of the suite looked like.

The sleek kitchenette easily put my full-sized kitchen to shame with its white cabinetry, marble countertops, and state-of-the-art appliances. Gavin led me past the breakfast nook, down a small hallway, and into the first bathroom, which had a large standing tub and a sandy-beige tiled shower with a waterfall showerhead. It was all so perfect, I could only imagine how much one night in this suite cost.

And then there were the bedrooms. Thank God there were two.

The first we entered had plush pale blue pillows lining the headboard of the white king-sized bed. A vase of white lilies adorned the bedside table, and a modern light fixture hung over the bed. It was the only decoration, though, because the wall opposite the bed had even more floor-to-ceiling windows, flooding the room with the warmth of natural light. This suite gave a whole new meaning to the term “oceanfront.”

“You can have this room,” Gavin said, running his fingers over the crisp white comforter. “I assume you’d prefer more time to yourself to think things over.” He turned to face me, the sunlight hitting his hazel eyes just right so they were almost glowing.

It took everything in me not to melt right then and there. We could sleep together without sleeping together, couldn’t we?

When I didn’t respond, he ventured a step closer and slipped his arm around my waist.

“Or you could stay with me,” he murmured.

His crisp, masculine scent washed over me, and a thousand memories of our time together before flooded through my brain. Tangled sweaty limbs, and murmured filthy words.

No. No, we could not.

I ignored the slight weakness in my knees and shook my head. “I don’t think I’m ready to spend the night with you again.” Not yet, at least. “I still have so many questions,” I said, pulling away from his embrace.

Gavin stepped back, his jaw clenching. “I’m going to get some work done. Dinner’s at seven. Until then, I’ll leave you with your questions.” With that, he quickly left the room.

I sighed and flopped down on the bed, relishing in how perfectly it formed to my body.

This trip would be a lot harder than I thought.

• • •

At dinner, I decided to ask Gavin my questions after our main course was served. By that point, he’d already have plenty of bourbon and lobster in him, and I hoped that would make him more open to sharing. I could tell my need to know was getting on his nerves. Part of me felt bad to be doubting him this way, but another part of me was frustrated. If he couldn’t answer my questions, I might never really trust him again.

I took a sip of my sparkling water, cursing myself for saying no to that glass of wine. Sure, I wanted to keep a clear head for this conversation, but a nice glass of rosé would really take the edge off.

Before I could speak, Gavin cleared his throat, his hazel eyes piercing right through me. “Are you planning on waiting until dessert?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No. And I wasn’t planning on this being a fight either.”

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know what I’ve told you so far has left you unsatisfied.”

“I’m not trying to grill you, Gavin, I’m just trying to understand what happened.” My voice rose a little at the end as my heart pounded. I was nervous—no, I was scared. So far, he’d told me all about Ashley and their relationship, but nothing about her death.

“I know, pet,” he said, holding his hand out in the middle of the table. “Be patient with me.”

I stared at his hand for a moment, conscious of the meaning behind the gesture.

He never used that nickname during idle conversation, and I knew he was trying to be reassuring. The gesture was sweet.

Did I trust him yet? Not by a long shot. But there was only one way to let him try to earn it back.