With His Touch

4

BACK HOME in San Diego, Sugar pushed ahead of Gage into the Spice It Up lobby, headed for the check-in desk, ready to launch their plan. Gage caught up and took her hand. “Hold on. Look at what we built.” He gestured at the lobby spread out before them, pulling her closer. When he released her fingers, the warmth lingered.

Damn. Since the Expo Incident, there was extra warmth to every breath or touch or smile they shared. Ridiculous, really, and it complicated everything.

Sugar’s gaze floated from the cream marble tile to the polished mahogany walls, from the overstuffed velvet love seats and sofas to the lush Oriental rug in the cozy conversation pit, everything in the resort’s colors of violet, teal and gold. On cool evenings, the massive fireplace crackled and popped with licking flames. She sighed with pleasure.

Gage had a point. Every subtle element was deliberate—meant to create an atmosphere of warmth, sensuality, intimacy and connection. She had to be certain the franchises included the crucial items.

A gigantic flower arrangement stood on a huge table in the center of the lobby. Violet bird-of-paradise, apple-green orchids, purple irises and marigolds stood out against a background of white roses, baby’s breath and freesia.

A few feet away was the gleaming grand piano where music students from the nearby college played for the guests each evening.

For now, piped-in romantic music filled the air, along with the alluring scent of the flowers, lemon oil and vanilla-lavender candles in clusters large and small. Behind the elegant, dark-wood reception counter, staff was busy with guests. Completing her visual sweep, Sugar found Gage waiting for her. “You’re right. We did good, huh?”

Gage smiled in what seemed to be triumph. What was that about? Oh, yeah. She’d forgotten they were in the middle of a debate.

To show him she hadn’t given an inch, she popped the steno pad from the pocket of her laptop carrier and readied a pen. “Mahogany and marble aren’t essential,” she said, writing her thoughts, “but the franchises must include a fireplace, the piano and real flowers, don’t you agree?”

Gage blew out a breath. “I suppose so. Yeah.”

She’d made her point—she was working toward the franchises—and fought a grin. “Shall we check in?”

“Sure you don’t want to wait until after the staff meeting?” Every Monday at eleven, the staff gathered to touch base on the upcoming week’s events.

“More fun to get a natural reaction from the front desk.”

To avoid alarming employees, they’d agreed to tell everyone they were working on a new marketing campaign, which was true enough, since they would use what they noticed in all their promotional materials. Once they’d decided about the franchising, they’d bring staff on board. Less anxiety that way in an industry fraught with turmoil.

“This could start rumors about us being a couple,” Gage said, picking up his briefcase.

“We’ll be absolutely clear, that’s all,” Sugar said.

“Oh, you bet,” he said. “That’ll do the trick.” But he seemed entirely too peppy and pleased with himself. Why? His plan fit perfectly with her own. She’d hardly given in at all, but he acted as though he’d bested her.

“Allowing rumors won’t help either of us, Gage,” she warned. What did he think was going to happen? They’d check into a room, rip each other’s clothes off and fall madly in love? That only worked in the movies. Or for some of their guests, of course, which was the point, after all.

Gage gave her the moony look from their birthday wish, full of hope and yearning. It was as if a romantic pod person had taken over his body. His incredibly buff body.

She had to admit that since the Expo Incident, Gage seemed different to her. Taller, broader and more muscular. That erection had been…impressive. If only she’d ripped his clothes off to get the whole effect. That had been her last chance. They’d agreed—no sex. Still, she remembered Gage sucking on her nipple, stroking her beneath her panties and she felt all shivery and woozy.

She was off-kilter. Plus the flight home had worn her out and she’d slept poorly last night. Whatever. She had to forget the Expo Incident and focus on what a terrific team they made. Gage was smart and savvy and sensible. A great partner.

Well, except for that damn smug smile he wore at the moment. Which was worse—the smug smile or the moony daze? They both irritated the hell out of her. “Quit grinning like you won something, Gage,” she muttered.

“What? I’m just happy to be here with you, partner.” He patted her back. Could a pat be smug?

“So how was the convention?” Brittany asked eagerly, catching sight of them as they approached.

“Bring back anything good?” Luigi said, holding a hand over the phone. “Something new in condoms maybe?” Snap. Snap. The guy’s jaws worked over the inevitable piece of Juicy Fruit. That was one signature element they could leave out—gum-popping receptionists.

“I got a few samples you can have. I’ll bring them into the meeting,” Sugar said. “Some joke items—condom lollipops, key chain penises, tropical-flavored lubricants. Nothing revolutionary.”

“Oh, give the lollipop to Oliver,” Brittany said. “He has a great blush.” Brittany had a crush on their operations manager, Oliver Noble, who was a no-nonsense guy—single, but ten years older than Brittany, and easy to embarrass. To counteract that problem, Oliver blustered at her, which seemed to accelerate the fire, not retard it.

“Jeez. You’re so predictable, Brit,” Luigi said. Snap, snap.

“So, what’s up?” Brittany asked. “Why are you two on that side of the desk?”

“We’re checking in,” Gage said.

Luigi’s jaw froze midchew and he joined Brittany in staring at them.

“It’s for new marketing materials,” Sugar added. “Gage and I are test guests so we can sample the experience. We need a room and an orientation.”

“You’re checking in? The two of you? As a couple?” Brittany’s eyes went wider. “Wow. That’s great! Really great.”

Luigi resumed chewing, but very, very slowly.

“Strictly for research, right, Gage?” Sugar jabbed him with an elbow.

“Ouch.” Gage nodded.

“Sure. I get it.” Brittany winked.

Luigi double-popped his gum.

“Really,” Sugar said wearily. She noticed that Clarice, the Pleasure Concierge and the resort’s biggest gossip, had stopped working and was watching intently. If her ears had been antennae, they’d have been twitching.

“Wait,” Luigi said suspiciously. “Is this, like, going to show up in my performance review?”

“Not at all.”

But he wadded his gum into a pink message slip and tossed it into the trash, stood very tall and smiled a fake smile as he clicked into the system. “So, how long will you be staying with us, Mr. and, uh, Mrs. Maguire?”

“Don’t you have reservations to confirm?” Brittany said, bumping Luigi out of the way to take over the task. She was always eager for extra responsibility.

Luigi shrugged and moved to the second terminal.

“It’s Mr. Maguire and Ms. Thompson,” Sugar said firmly to Brittany. “And it will be for one day.”

“Two, don’t you think?” Gage added mildly. “We’ll need the overnight in case we work late.”

There was a thud, then a swishing sound, as the rack of brochures Clarice had been pretending to neaten tipped over, spraying pamphlets across the glossy marble floor.

“We won’t be sleeping there, so no need for maid service,” Sugar said to be absolutely clear. She shot a frown at Gage.

“But, otherwise, we’d like the full guest treatment,” Gage said. “As you can see, my partner is reluctant about our stay. Wouldn’t you say so, sweetheart?”

Brittany just blinked at them.

“She doesn’t see how a vacation can fix our, uh, problem.” Gage seemed to be taking on a guest persona. “I imagine you’ve heard that before from guests checking in, Brittany?”

Brittany seemed frozen.

“He wants you to say what you say when couples seem torn about being here,” Sugar said. “When one thinks it’s a waste of time or a pricey experiment. I’m the reluctant mate, Brittany, get it?”

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