Cathryn Fox

On His Knees


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pulls her hand back, and her other friend laughs. Summer’s face is as red as her drink when she glances up at me. Something inside me softens as dark lashes blink rapidly over big mortified eyes.

      “It’s okay. I hear lots of comments working in a place like this,” I say, brushing it off to put Summer at ease.

      Amber looks me over. She must like what she sees because she bobs her head and makes a lip-smacking sound. Does Summer like what she sees?

       Jesus, Tate. It doesn’t matter. You’re not here to sleep with her.

      Why do I have to keep reminding myself of that?

      “I bet you get lots of offers for lots of things,” Amber says, pointing a finger at me, and running it up and down.

      I grin, and Summer clears her throat. “Tate, this is my friend Amber. Amber is obnoxious and doesn’t have any filters.” She points to her other friend, who is still nibbling on her straw. “This is Cara. She’s the nice one.”

      “Hey,” Amber says. “I’m nice, too.” Without missing a beat, she turns to me. “So this friend you were looking for earlier. Was she your girlfriend?”

      Summer opens her mouth, no doubt to yell at her friend again, but I hold my hand up to stop her. I turn to Summer. “No, just a friend.”

      “Well then, I’m not so certain a drink for a grope is quite enough,” Amber announces.

      “You’re right,” I say. I brace one hand on the table and lean into Summer. I catch her floral scent, and breathe her in. “Have you eaten?”

      She sits up a bit straighter, my offer taking her off guard. “No, not yet. But I had plans—”

      “I think I’m getting a cold,” Amber says, and nudges Cara as she fakes a cough. “I think I caught it from Cara.”

      Catching on quickly, Cara coughs, too, and I can’t help but grin at her friends’ antics. If the circumstances were different I would probably really like them. “We’re going to skip dinner, and just get soup delivered to our room.” Amber takes a big sip of her daiquiri. “After I finish this delicious drink of course.”

      Summer is staring at her two friends like she’s going to kill them. I touch her arm, to bring her attention back around to me, and she nearly jumps out of her chair.

      “Sorry,” I say. “No touching. I get it.”

      “No...no, it just surprised me.”

      “I get off in a few, why don’t you let me buy you dinner.”

      “You don’t have to buy me anything, and we can pay for our own drinks, Tate. Seriously, today was just an accident.”

       She wants to pay?

      Okay, I totally didn’t expect that. Then again, Granddad’s probably set her up with a nice bank account by now.

      “What if I want to?” I ask. Summer’s breath comes a little faster, as she reaches for her drink and takes a long pull from the straw. “There’s a really nice restaurant at Raydolins with a great view of the mountains and lake.”

      “I’ve passed by it,” Summer says. “We’re staying at that resort,” she adds.

      Of course she’s staying at Raydolins. My granddad owns it.

      “We got in late two days ago, so we haven’t had too much of a chance to explore the resort or visit the shops.” She reaches into her purse, her hand rustling around for something.

      “Good, I can be your tour guide. So yes to dinner?”

      “Um...sure.” She glances at her watch, dropping a ten-dollar bill onto my tray. I stare at it, confused for a moment. Ah, she’s tipping me. Surprise number two. “I can meet you there at eight, but do you think we’ll get in without a reservation?” she asks, her nose crinkling.

      I give her a wink. “I’ve got a few connections, and I’ll pick you up at your door.”

      She holds her hands up, palms out. “You can pick me up, as long as there’s no spinning involved this time,” she says, and I laugh. I have to admit, she does have a great sense of humor. Probably has Granddad laughing all the time.

      “What room are you in?”

      “301.”

      “Penthouse Suite,” I say.

      Why the hell would Granddad put her in the one place we always stayed, and never rented out. He must be more serious about her than I ever thought. Damn, this is going to crush him. But what choice do I have? I have to protect him. He’s not just family, he means the world to me.

      “You know it?” Summer asks.

      I nod, and push a rebellious lock of hair from my forehead. I’m normally clean cut, and it’s driving me crazy. I really should have visited the barber before I bolted to the airport. Then again, I guess the disheveled look works better with my ruse. “I know it.”

      “Summer’s friend owns it,” Cara informs me.

      I nod. “Like I said before, nice friend.”

      “Don’t worry, he’s not her boyfriend, or anything,” Amber says and aims a wink Summer’s way, as if to say, not yet.

      “After dinner, maybe we can hit the slopes?” I say, banking my anger and putting myself back together.

      “Once on the hill today is enough for me.”

      I glance outside, take in all the hiking trails. “Okay, I’m sure I can find something else for us to do.”

      “Oh, I’m sure you can,” Amber says, laughing.

      Summer shakes her head at me. “Ignore her, please.”

       Please.

      What is it about her saying that one word that gets to my dick? I look at her lush mouth and for a brief second, I envision it wrapped around my thickening cock. Goddammit, the vision is ridiculously hot.

      “Can I get you ladies anything else?”

      Summer smiles up at me again. “No, thank you for the drinks. You didn’t have to do this, but I really appreciate it.”

      I nod and walk away, thinking about all the other things I could give her that she just might appreciate.

       Stop it, Tate.

      I step back to the bar. Henry has a thin sheen of moisture on his forehead, and his breath is a little more labored as he gestures with his chin, and lowers his voice. “That her?”

      “Yeah.” Worried that he’s been working too hard, I grab the glasses from the dishwasher and stack them on the bar, taking over for him.

      Henry shakes his head. “Your grandfather must be having a midlife crisis.”

      “If that’s the case than I guess he’s going to live to one hundred and eighty.”

      He laughs. “At least he has good taste.”

      “That he does.”

      And therein lies the problem. Summer is breathtakingly beautiful, a girl I plan to expose, except suddenly exposing her—her clothes, that clip in her hair, her inhibitions—is playing out all kinds of wrong in my head.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      Summer

      I PACE INSIDE my suite, hardly able to believe I’m about to have dinner with Tate the sexy bartender with a body made for sin. He never did give me his last name, and I never gave him mine, which is A-Okay with me. If I’m going to have a hot affair with a man I never plan