sleep?”
“No.”
“Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”
“No.”
Laughter rumbled from his throat. “Likely a good thing. The only ones I can think of would be strictly X-rated.”
“Nate!”
“Go to sleep, Mina.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. He turned on his side and all was quiet. The clocked ticked loudly on the mantelpiece over the fireplace. Dannazione, but she was restless. Rolling on her side she hugged her pillow. It was too soft—she hated soft pillows. Reaching for the other pillow she’d dropped on the floor, she tried that one out. It was too hard.
A sigh left her throat.
“Good God.” Nate reached over and flicked on the light. Which put his amazing, sculpted chest on display. She’d never seen anything like it, muscle and sinew converging in a mouthwatering work of art.
His gaze raked over her face. Dropped lower to the lace nightie Susana had insisted she buy for her honeymoon. The look on his face sent all the blood in her body rushing to her twin heated cheeks.
“I don’t sleep much,” he said grimly, returning his gaze to her face, “but I do need a few hours. So let me assure you I am not crossing the center line tonight. Despite that enticing scrap of lace you’re wearing. Despite the fact that it has Take me written all over it and it’s not helping by adding to my list of fantasies.”
Her gaze tangled with his. His eyes were so dark she could walk right into them and lose herself completely. It was tempting, so tempting, to do so. To throw common sense out the window.
“Susana made me buy it,” she whispered. “Not my idea.”
His laser-like stare said that fact was inconsequential.
She turned her back on him, clutching the hard pillow to her, her heart slamming in her chest. She wanted so badly to know what those fantasies were. Wanted his beautiful hands on her as he acted them out. Wanted to feel as alive as he’d made her feel that night in his arms in Capri. To know for once in her lonely life what it was like to be the center of someone’s orbit—a man like Nate’s orbit. To experience that heady, inescapable passion...
But she wasn’t going to be the one to cross the line, either. She had far too much at stake.
THE WEEK IN Hong Kong flew by at a blindingly fast pace. They had an initial meeting with Sheng Zhu the following day in which the celebrity chef outlined his vision for a new avant-garde restaurant at the Grand that, he promised, would be the talk of the city.
Mina got a chance to see the razor-sharp, ruthless side of her new boss as Nate systematically picked Sheng Zhu’s proposal apart and pressed for additional exclusivity. She had no doubt he’d walk away from the partnership if it wasn’t tailored to his liking, and apparently neither did Sheng Zhu, who promised to return the morning they were to fly out with an updated proposal.
She spent the rest of the week learning the operations of the hotel alongside Nate and Mingmei. By the end of the week her head was so crammed full of information she had almost been able to forget about her and Nate’s sleeping arrangements.
Almost. Not that Nate slept. He worked more than any human being she’d ever encountered, coming to bed long after she’d fallen asleep and rising before she did. She had no idea how he functioned with such little rest, but it did the trick, minimizing the contact between them.
Tonight, however, their last night in Hong Kong, was going to be a challenge. Mingmei had prepared a special honeymoon dinner for them in their suite. Unless they wanted to look ungrateful they were going to have to go through the motions.
She eyed the suite warily as she and Nate returned from their meetings. The dining table near the windows with the spectacular view of the harbor had been set for two, tall, tapered candles flickering in the center of it, champagne cooling in an ice bucket. The lighting had been muted, a classic piece by Ella Fitzgerald playing in the background, a tray of oysters at the ready.
Her mouth went dry. Ignoring her attraction to Nate was one thing in a room full of people. Another entirely in the middle of a seduction scene.
A sparkle caught her eye. Moving further into the salon she found an evening gown draped over a chair, a delicate pair of glittering stiletto heels beside it and a card that said “Wear me” propped up beside the dress.
Nate strolled over to pick up the embossed envelope that sat beside it.
Sliding the card out, he read its contents. “‘A 2002 Piper-Heidsieck is on its way. Enjoy the music and some dancing before your six-course dinner featuring some of Hong Kong’s great delicacies.’”
Nate raised an eyebrow at Mina’s expression.
“Afraid I’ll step on your toes? I happen to be a very good dancer.”
He knew exactly what it was she was afraid of and it wasn’t the dancing! She tossed her hair over her shoulder in what she hoped was a nonchalant gesture. “I am sure you are very smooth. Part of your lady-killer image.”
An openly amused look crossed his face. “Lady-killer? Where did you get that from? An old movie?”
She ignored him and picked up the dress. The Asian-inspired design was done in a deep buttercream color with the most exquisite beadwork and embroidery she’d ever seen.
“Go put it on before the champagne comes,” said Nate.
She did, if only to distract herself. The dress might have encompassed plenty of material, but it was snug, molded to her body in a perfect fit that emphasized all her curves. The only nod toward daring was the low back that left much of her skin bare.
That Mingmei clearly had a perfect eye for style didn’t surprise her in the least. Slipping on the sparkly stilettos, which fit perfectly, she returned to the salon. Nate had taken his jacket off, elegant and minimalistic in a silver-gray shirt and black trousers that molded his muscular body to perfection. His inescapable virility in the suddenly very small space rolled over her in a heady wave of awareness.
His gaze ate her up in a frank appraisal that made her lungs tight. “I should have left my jacket and tie on. In the face of such perfection...”
The breath whished from her lungs. “You’re far more relaxed when you’re not in a suit and tie.”
“I’m not sure relaxed is the state of mind I should be aiming for right now.”
Her stomach plummeted. “This...talk,” she pointed out weakly, “is not helping the situation.”
His mouth curved. “I think being self-aware is not a bad thing at the moment.”
A discreet cough alerted her to the fact that they were not alone. Turning, she found a black-coated waiter at her elbow, holding a white cloth–wrapped champagne bottle and glasses. Apparently they had their own personal waiter for the evening, a fact that eased her nerves considerably. A chaperone was exactly what she and Nate needed.
The waiter filled their glasses, returned the bottle to the ice bucket and stepped back to stand unobtrusively by the door. Nate set a hand to the small of her back and guided her out onto the terrace with its spectacular views of Victoria Harbor, Hong Kong Island and Kowloon. The press of his strong fingers against the bare skin of her back sent a tremor reverberating through her.
Dannazione. She needed to get a handle on herself.
She focused on the view in front of her. Found herself transfixed by the light exploding over the city. Laser beams and searchlights in a rainbow of hues shot off the tops of the buildings, casting rays of light into the inky sky and harbor. Fireworks dazzled the eye, timed to music she could just make out from