He thought he saw her stiffen as he turned back to the hotel again but he couldn't be sure. Maybe his words were a little harsh, but he wasn't about to apologize for being a decisive person. Not to a hooker.
The doorman must have been watching the odd scene being played out in front of him because he quickly looked away. Fine, let him look. Nick knew no one in Melbourne so what did it matter if he was caught chatting to a woman dressed in next to nothing? It was his prerogative.
Inside the hotel, the cool blast of air instantly soothed his hot skin, but not his hot temper...or his groin. He couldn't wait to go upstairs, get changed and come back down. Abbey would be waiting for him.
Hot, sexy Abbey.
Part of him wished she hadn't agreed to wait for him. He knew he wouldn't have disagreed if she'd suggested she follow him up to his room. On the other hand, this way he would get to think about their encounter all through dinner. He could imagine her naked, her smooth skin, her inviting lips. And when it finally came time to return to the hotel, it'd be all the more thrilling because of the wait.
He quickly showered in ice-cold water to dampen his erection, then dressed in light beige trousers and a casual white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons left undone. He made sure he was wearing his tightest shorts underneath. It may be painful if she got him excited, but it would keep him in check.
Something told him she was going to make him excited just by looking at him through those thick black lashes.
Nick barely noticed the heat outside. He couldn't stop thinking about Abbey.
"Hi." Abbey emerged through the glass door to the bar. She pouted at him, her lower lip protruding. Kissable.
"Not having second thoughts, I hope," she said lightly. She grinned.
He hesitated, caught between his warring emotions. He should go. He didn't need a hooker. Finally, pride won—he didn't run away from anything, especially a challenge.
"No, of course not." He had to pay her for last night anyway. He might as well have a few drinks, pay her then send her on her way. He didn't have to succumb a second time, but it was common decency to pay for the services he'd already used.
"I ordered us a bottle of Chardonnay," she said opening the door for him. "I hope that's okay."
"As long as it's cold."
She turned and glanced at him over one naked shoulder, a cheeky smile playing on her lips. "A bit hot and bothered today are you?"
"Hot, yes. Bothered, never."
They sat at a table in a dark corner of the restaurant. The red and black décor was modern and fresh. The wine list was long and didn't have prices, and the waiters wore crisp black suits. Thankfully, it was cooler inside than out, but it wasn't cold like many places are in summer with their air conditioning turned up too high.
A few other patrons sat alone on bar stools, or in couples in other dark, recessed booths. Considering it was Tuesday night, it was probably as busy as the place would get.
Good. It was unlikely he would see anyone from the seminar. He sat with his back facing the door just in case.
Abbey sipped her wine. She looked sensational with her sunglasses perched on top of her head, holding her mass of hair off her face. Nick liked that. He liked to see her features—she was an extremely attractive woman.
Her makeup wasn't as heavy as the night before, which was a good thing too. He liked his women to wear as little makeup as possible, and she didn't really need it.
His gaze wandered lower to her br**sts land the strapless top. Not really appropriate for such a salubrious place. She looked like a hooker.
"You seem uncomfortable," Abbey said, a cheeky grin lighting up her face.
Nick liked the way she seemed to find everything amusing.
"Worried about being seen with me?" she asked.
"No! No, of course not." He shrugged. "I don't know anyone in Melbourne anyway, so..."
Abbey glanced down at the fingers cradling the stem of her glass. "I see." Her hand reached down under the table. Although Nick couldn't see, from the way she moved it appeared she was trying to cover up the split in her skirt. It didn't matter, the table cloth was floor length and covered everything from the waist down anyway.
As if suddenly realizing, Abbey's hand returned to the tabletop and she clasped her fingers together, placing her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her knuckles. Trying to cover her br**sts?
Had he made her feel that self-conscious? Impossible. Hookers didn't get uncomfortable in revealing outfits.
He sipped his wine, swirling it around his palette before swallowing. A nice vintage. He wondered whether Abbey had taken pot luck when she ordered it, or whether she actually knew a good wine from a bad one without a price tag to check. In reality, it was probably neither. No doubt she'd asked the waiter before she ordered.
"Nice wine," he said, wanting to fill the silence.
"It's one of my favorites. I always order it—" She stopped and glanced away.
Another awkward silence stretched between them, and Nick suddenly regretted coming. Sex was one thing, but making small talk with a woman he barely knew was awful. He'd much rather skip this part of the evening.
"How was your conference?" Abbey asked with a polite smile.
"How did you know about that?"
She shrugged. "They told me."
"They?"
"Hotel management. You know, complementary massage and all that. I asked what you're here for and they said a software conference at the Crown Complex."
"Seminar," Nick corrected. So she was going to stick with the free massage story. Fine, he could play along.
"So you're a salesman for a software firm. How exciting."
She was a terrible actress. Her eyes glazed over in boredom when she said the words salesman and software. He couldn't blame her—it did sound dull.
But it irritated him that she thought he was just a salesman, working for just another software company. Not the owner and CEO of the most prestigious and lucrative technology firm in the entire southern hemisphere.
It irritated him even more that he couldn't tell her the truth either. She thought he was Damien Vane. The hotel thought he was Damien Vane. The potential clients at the seminar thought he was Damien Vane.
He'd decided before he left Sydney that he couldn't tell anyone the truth. It could ruin his chances of selling the software. The clients were ruthless, and they knew Vane was one of the greatest marketing geniuses in the software industry. He'd been in software for twenty years, a long time in this rapidly changing business. He had a stellar reputation.