What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [8]
“First,” he said, still smiling that sexy smile, “congratulations on winning our grand prize, and welcome to the Hotel Erotique. I hope you’re enjoying your stay so far.”
“Thank you, and yes, it’s lovely.” Get to the point already.
Before continuing, though, he paused to lift an open bottle from an ice bucket to pour two glasses of wine. “Second,” he finally went on, “I have some unfortunate news. Your guide, Mariel, has just been called away on a family emergency.”
Oh God. I know I should feel bad for Mariel, but right now, I’m more worried about me. “I’m . . . sorry to hear that. Nothing too serious, I hope,” she managed to add.
“Her father had a heart attack, and he’s expected to have a complete recovery, but she still needs to be with him.”
“Of course,” Jenna replied, nodding.
“And as luck would have it, the only other female guide on-site this week is already very overbooked. We have two more, but both are on vacation.”
“I see,” was all she could say. So what did that mean? Well, maybe she should simply go ahead and tell him her decision and this wouldn’t even matter since she didn’t actually need a guide. But before she could figure out how to broach the topic of sex, he went on.
“I know our literature promises a same-gender guide for each guest, but these are unusual circumstances, so I apologize and hope you won’t mind being stuck with me.” His enticing grin widened, making her thighs melt even as her jaw went slack.
“You,” she repeated numbly.
“Brent Powers,” he said, extending a hand across the table.
She forced herself to shake it. It was big. Strong.
“And I can assure you that, despite this being unusual, I’m committed to ensuring your stay with us exceeds your expectations,” Brent went on. “I’ve been with the Hotel Erotique for fifteen years and have spent ten of those as a guide. I have a BS in social psychology and a PhD in clinical sexology. I’m also part owner of the resort, so I hope all that will convince you you’re in safe hands.”
Clinical sexology, huh? And he even had a doctorate in it—which she supposed made him an official doctor of sex. It was strange to know she sat across from a man who was not only hot as hell but who also knew more about sex than she could possibly fathom.
But none of that mattered. What mattered was . . . “Actually, I was planning to tell Mariel that . . . I’d like to decline the, uh, sex portion of my prize. So I don’t really need a guide. I’d just like to enjoy the rest of what the resort has to offer.”
Across from her, Brent Powers blinked, looking truly surprised. “May I ask why?”
She sucked in her breath. This part would have been easier with a woman. Or even with a less-attractive man. She found she couldn’t quite meet his eyes as she spoke. “Well, I simply decided I’m not comfortable having sex with strangers. No offense—I’m sure it brings many people a lot of, um, pleasure—but I just don’t think it’s right for me.”
Only when he didn’t answer right away did she manage to lift her gaze from his white button-down shirt to his face—to see him appearing unduly concerned. So she rushed on. “Maybe I should have given the prize back—I’m sorry if that’s what you would have preferred. But I really could use a vacation, and when I discussed this with some friends, they suggested I simply enjoy the other aspects of the prize—like the pool, and the spa.” She decided to blame at least part of it on Shannon and Kevin since this was actually all their fault. “Is that okay? Or should I leave?”
At this, Brent Powers reached out to touch her hand where it rested on the table near her untouched glass of wine, and—yikes, the simple connection sizzled through her like electricity, skittering