“What the fuck?” Rand growled, slapping at the light switch on the wall.
The room was suddenly bathed in illumination and what he saw was enough to shock him into utter silence for a second. Emily was sitting on the bed, the sheets wrapped around her hips, but naked from there up. Her long hair was tangled around her bare breasts, one nipple peeking saucily through.
And beside her sat a guy. An attractive man of about thirty, with black hair, dark eyes and an expression that appeared too much like a satisfied smirk for Rand’s comfort.
“Oh, my God!” Emily shrieked, leaping from the bed, as if she’d just been shocked out of her own immobility.
“You sick bastard, I’ll kill you if you touched her!” Rand snarled, striding toward the bed.
“Who are you people?” the man said, rising to stand and face Rand. “And what are you doing in my bedroom?”
Rand had been just about to leap and tackle the intruder who’d obviously terrified Emily.
Who’d kissed her.
But the man’s words—and Rand’s own pants, which had slid down his hips and were now tangled around his feet—stopped him cold.
“What?”
“What?” Emily echoed.
“You are both in my bedroom,” the man explained, glancing back and forth between them, that smile still lurking on his lips. But it wasn’t amusement he displayed when the man dropped his gaze to her naked body—it was sheer admiration.
Emily grabbed the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself, and the stranger shrugged his shoulders as if to say who wouldn’t look?
Rand was going to punch his lights out for that. Just as soon as he figured out what the hell was going on.
First things first, though. “Em, are you all right?” he asked, striding over to her, kicking his own pants off and out of the way in his need to reach her and make sure the assault hadn’t gone too far.
She flew into his arms. “I’m fine. Scared out of my wits and so confused, but...”
The stranger interrupted. “What’s to be confused about? This is my hotel, my penthouse, my room and my bed.”
“Oh, God,” Emily groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. “You’re Damien Black.”
Rand had heard of him. Rich dude. International playboy.
Owned hotels.
Shit.
“Yes. Now, who, exactly, are the two of you?” The man glanced at Rand. “Well, I know who you are.”
“I’m Emily Crowder,” Em replied, “one of the floor managers. We all assumed you were still out of the country and had no idea you would be home tonight.”
“So I gathered. Does this happen a lot? Staff sneaking into my place for hookups?”
Rand grabbed the guy by the lapels of his jacket and jerked him close, not giving a damn that he was stark naked and the guy probably owned more baseball teams than Rand had ever played for. “Watch your mouth. Your general manager rented me this suite. I’m a paying customer and Miss Crowder is my guest. We’ve known each other for years.”
The millionaire—billionaire?—nodded slightly, murmuring, “My apologies.”
Emily was apparently regaining her equilibrium, and her anger. Without much concern for her job, she snapped, “What is wrong with you? Are you in the habit of just kissing strange women you find in your bed? I thought you were Rand, who’d left almost an hour ago. But who did you think I was?”
Rand stiffened at the kissing part, but forced himself to put his anger and jealousy aside. He could go a little nuts later conjuring up images of another man holding the woman he loved, naked, and kissing her when she’d believed she was kissing Rand. Right now, there was still too much to deal with.
“Actually, I figured you were one of my exes. You said you’d been waiting for me to come back, and I assumed word had gotten out that I was here and you were hoping for some makeup sex.” He sighed heavily. “They’ve managed to talk their way in before.”
Wow. And Rand thought he had it rough with groupies. Nobody’d ever actually invaded his home.
“It wasn’t until you called me by another man’s name that I realized you weren’t my belated Christmas present. Too bad.”
There was another flash of the spoiled, rich playboy. The quick, appreciative stare he cast over Emily, from the top of her tousled head down to the bare toes peeping out from beneath the sheet, made a hot wave of fury course through Rand. His whole body tense, muscles taut and fingers fisting, he stepped forward.
“Calm down, Captain America,” Black said with a half smile. “Just trying to get a rise out of you. Speaking of which, you might want to put your pants on.”
Right. Rand was naked. He’d forgotten.
He grabbed his trousers off the floor and stepped into them, never taking his eyes off the other man.
“How about you go wait in the other room and give us a minute.”
“Of course.” The rich guy gave a slight bow, offered Emily one last admiring smile, then walked toward the door. Before he left, though, he turned and looked over his shoulder.
“By the way, Miss Crowder, the GM will want to see you tomorrow. Whether she fires you or not is up to her. Either way, I will be informing her of what happened tonight.”
Rotten bastard.
Rand was about to open his mouth, but Emily held up a hand, silencing him. She wasn’t at all cowed.
“Are you going to inform her of everything that happened tonight?”
Including the fact that this guy had climbed into bed with Emily and kissed her? The idea still made Rand nauseous.
“Touché,” Black said. “I suppose we’ll both be embarrassed. But the point is, you shouldn’t be fraternizing with guests in my suite, especially since, unless I’m mistaken, those are your work clothes lying on the floor, and you are supposed to be at the front desk.”
“I’m off duty,” she shot back.
“So perhaps this wasn’t an egregious offense. But it wasn’t very professional, and you might be paying for it with your job.”
Rand opened his mouth to protest, but Emily grabbed his arm and squeezed, shaking her head. She obviously wanted to handle it on her own.
Her face had paled. She’d heard, as Rand had, the genuine note of warning in her boss’s voice. At first, Damien Black had come across as some kind of laid-back, spoiled lothario, but Rand now saw the steely, ruthless businessman lurking beneath the surface. To maintain the reputation of his hotel, he’d allow Emily, a woman he’d just kissed, to be fired for what she did on her own time, in what was, technically, Rand’s room. For tonight, anyway.
Rand watched Emily, trying to figure out just how upset she was about her imminent unemployment. Would she blame Rand? He could say he regretted dragging her up here tonight, but he’d be a damned liar. He didn’t regret one minute he’d spent with her, though he hoped she didn’t experience any fallout because of him
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Black said before exiting the room, shutting the door behind him.
Once he was gone, Rand swung around to Emily and grabbed her, pulling her tightly against him. “Are you all right?”
She was shaking, and she wrapped her arms around him, gripping him. “I am now. I was scared to death.”
“It’s all right now. You’re safe.”
She nodded,