Bianca slipped back into her seat and clicked her belt back into its holder with a grin. “There.”
“You’re that keen?”
Bianca held my eye contact. “Absolutely I am.”
My mouth grew dry, and I ran my hand through my hair, turning to look away through the window as the driver spun the car around, heading back the opposite way. The traffic was much lighter in this direction, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until we were back at the hotel. I began to sweat a little. There was immense pressure on me not to disappoint Rossi and I was well and truly in my head. She had built whatever this was going to be between us to exciting new heights, but what if I didn’t deliver? I didn’t think I was bad in bed and had never had any complaints in the past, but it had been a few years, and I was feeling decidedly rusty. My mind turned to my last relationship. Amélie had always been so stiff, too concerned about messing up her hair or getting stains on the expensive sheets to enjoy herself, no matter how hard I’d tried. I knew without doubt that Bianca was going to be a different story and that made me equally nervous and ecstatic. I hoped I was up to the challenge.
The car pulled up outside the Wynn. Other than a few paparazzi loitering at the front entrance the more private one at the rear was quiet, no press or fans waiting for us. As far as they knew, everyone was heading to the Bellagio. They’d allbe hanging around outside the after party, hoping to get the inside scoop or an interesting photo, but little did they know the biggest scandal was about to happen back at the hotel. Bianca and I didn’t delay, each hopping out of the car and heading inside before we were spotted. I deliberately trailed a little way behind Bianca so as not to raise any suspicions and given the driver’s cool, disinterested demeanour, I figured she was doing the same. I loitered around in the lobby, waiting for Rossi to call the elevator. When it pinged and the doors opened, she finally glanced across at me, a quizzical expression on her face. I smiled and jerked my head.
I’ll catch you up.
Once Bianca was out of sight, riding the elevator up to our floor, I headed for the check–in desk. The concierge jumped to attention, spotting my approach.
“Good evening, Mr Wright. We weren’t expecting you back so soon—”
“It’s fine. Could you arrange for a bottle of champagne to be brought up to my room?” I asked.
“Of course. It’s on its way.” She smiled. “Oh, and congratulations to you and the team. You must be pleased.”
“Ecstatic,” I replied with a smile. I strode across the vast marble lobby to the elevators and called them back down to me, watching the numbers on the display counting down.
Come on…
The lift pinged and the doors rolled open. I strode inside just as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I grabbed it, realising too late that it wasn’t my work device. I smiled to myself, leaning back against the mirrored wall of the elevator and fished out my other phone.
BIANCA: You’d better not be getting cold feet.
KRISTIAN: Definitely not. Just being cautious. You know how much the circuit loves a rumour, and this is the mother of all rumours.
BIANCA: I’m about to make rumour a reality, baby.
At that I chuckled and scrubbed a hand down my face. What was it about Bianca that got my motor running? I couldn’t recall a time I’d been so utterly obsessed with seducing someone… Though perhaps the novelty of being the pursued, not the pursuer had something to do with it. Bianca was certainly straight talking, and I loved it.
The lift opened on our floor and true to the concierge’s promise, a waiter was standing beside a trolley outside my door.
“Thanks,” I muttered as I unlocked the door and snatched the ice bucket from the man’s trolley without a second glance. The soft ambient lighting flickered to life as it detected motion, and the room was cast in a warm glow. I placed the ice bucket down atop a small table just as I felt my phone buzz again.
BIANCA: Meet me by the pool.
KRISTIAN: Doesn’t it close at 7pm?
BIANCA: Be there or be square.
I shook my head and shrugged out of my suit jacket, throwing it haphazardly onto the bed. As I passed, I snatched up the champagne bottle, cork already popped, and made my way to the large, glass sliding doors that opened out onto the pool deck that was shared between the five or six other suites on this level of the hotel. It was dark out, the only light coming from beneath the surface of the water, casting pretty, turquoise shimmers all around. As I approached, I spotted Bianca sitting at the edge of the pool with her jeans rolled up as high as she was able, shapely legs dangling into the water. She heard me coming and her eyes lit up as she spotted the bottle in my hand.
“What an excellent idea,” she said, patting the stone bordering the pool beside her. “The water feels amazing.”
I glanced down at my work attire, wondering for a moment if there was a way to sit beside her and not ruin my trousers. My dilemma must have been obvious on my face because Bianca smirked up at me, almost daring me to throw caution to the wind.
Ah, fuck it.
I placed the champagne bottle down beside her and knelt, rolling my trouser leg up one at a time, before sitting down and dropping my feet into the water. Bianca tipped the bottle up, wincing when the bubbles burnt her lips as she took a large sip. She wiped her mouth off on the back of her hand before passing me the bottle and I eagerly took a mouthful.
“The sky in the desert is something special, isn’t it?” Bianca sighed, leaning back on her arms as she stared into the stars overhead. “Even with all the light pollution.”
I turned my gaze up and shrugged. “I guess.”
“I guess?! Is that all you have to say? Are you passionate aboutanything?” Bianca laughed.
