Rule's Addiction (2 page)

And he shouldn’t give a shit why the change in her had occurred. She was just another faceless woman at another piece of commercial real estate that he had dealings with.

But in the back of his mind, he had a tantalizing thought; he now owned the hotel where she worked. Tomorrow morning he was going to get on a plane, and soon he’d be in Florida to take care of things, just as he’d promised he would, so Courtney could get back to the Rule Corporation headquarters in St. Louis . . . but not before warning her to keep quiet about his impending arrival. There was no reason to give the conniving little Judas named Maria any advantage.

Putting his hands behind his head, he settled down in the bed to try to grab some sleep. Unable to let it go, he stared at the ceiling and imagined the two possible outcomes when the moment of reckoning finally came. He was either going to see her and get immediate relief from his ridiculous fantasies, or . . . or, he was going to see her and then have to fuck her to make them go away.

So much angst because of one damn female. The fact that she was an employee would definitely keep her in his vicinity for a while, which suited him, but it also made him grimace. He admitted, fucking her would be so much easier if she didn’t work for the corporation, but hell, he was probably going to fire her on the spot anyway.

Why the hell couldn’t that sultry voice have belonged to his doctor’s receptionist or some such shit?

He pushed the problem from his brain, knowing he’d handle it somehow.

And the fact that she was undoubtedly as pissed off as he was?

He’d deal with that setback when the time came as well.

Chapter One

Garrett strolled into the hotel after eleven o’clock the next night. As he walked through the vestibule, he glanced around and quickly took in the updates to the décor that had been implemented since the last time he’d been there. Most were easy to spot: new flooring, fresh paint, updated furniture.

Dropping his single bag at his side in front of the reception desk, he glanced at the time. Eleven-fifteen. Neither the general manager who was temporarily in charge, nor the girl he had intentions of ambushing would still be around. Only the night staff were in attendance, and he was impatient with the delay. By all rights, he should have had jet lag, but he didn’t. He’d had a private room on one of the new Emirates airplanes, and he’d slept like a baby and was even now, raring for his first sight of the girl.

As he checked in, he looked around. The bar was closed, as was the on-site restaurant. A janitor pushed a trolley unobtrusively down the hallway next to the elevators. Flattening his lips, he knew he had to find a way to expend his pent-up energy. If he didn’t, he’d be awake all night and he’d be fucked the next day.

****

Maria completed swimming her ninth lap, did a somersault underwater and pushed off the edge, putting everything she had into the final round. Her thighs were burning, her biceps were screaming, but unfortunately, her frustration level was still off the charts.

She hadn’t even finished yet, and already she knew the intense exercise wasn’t going to help. Not one iota, not a damn bit.

She was too pissed to calm down. There was one concept that sent her admittedly volatile temper into the stratosphere, one thing she hated most in the world, and that thing was nepotism.

She hated nepotism . . . fucking
hated
the word and the meaning behind it.
Nepotism sucked
. Nepotism could eat shit and die. And the Rule Corporation could eat shit and die with it.

Garrett Rule
could eat shit and die, the son-of-a-bitch.

With that thought, refusing to show weakness by using the steps to climb from the pool, she pushed up out of the water at the edge, forcing the last bit of strength from her spent muscles as she stood to her feet in a puddle of water.

Pulling her hair from the band that held it, she squeezed the long ponytail with her fingers, trying to get at least some of the water out, knowing it would only soak the towel she was about to pick up.

A small noise caught her attention in the otherwise quiet poolroom and she snapped her head around, seeing a man leaning negligently against the back of a wrought-iron chair. He stood silently, his arms crossed over his chest, one foot over the other at the ankle, while he conspicuously stared at her.

She should have felt any number of emotions, fear probably being the most appropriate. But as she watched him watching her, in an area of the hotel that was off-limits to guests at this time of the night, she felt only one thing, because she
knew
. She immediately knew who he was, and the feeling that was bubbling up and taking over her senses wasn’t fear, it was anger. He’d undoubtedly been given the type of key-card that only designated staff were allowed . . . the kind that opened all doors at all times. And the only thing she was feeling now was pure, unmitigated, unadulterated anger at his presence.

As she watched him studying her with narrowed eyes, she took in his appearance with a single, all-encompassing glance. Motherfucker was gorgeous, damn him. Well over six feet of powerful male, with dark hair and dark eyes, stood silently watching her as if he had every damn right.

His eyes continued to run up and down her body as if he owned her as well as the grounds and the building they were standing in, and her muscles stiffened in involuntary response. Setting her mouth in firm lines, she grabbed the towel and pulled it around her torso, leaving her dark, wet hair to hang down her back in wild disarray. Fuck it. Who cared? She was as good as fired, and damned if she cared.

He continued to stand silently and raised a single eyebrow, so she lifted her chin a notch and retaliated to the silence that was obviously meant to intimidate her. “Your little girlfriend couldn’t fire me all by herself? She needed to bring in reinforcements?” At her questions, his jaw set and a subtle tension seemed to invade his body, but she didn’t care. She was fearless, both because she was pissed and because she’d had her exit strategy planned for a while now. “No answer to that, Mr. Rule?” She forced a smile to her lips that he’d have no problem as identifying as fake.

When he pushed away from the chair and took two steps closer, she suddenly realized that his indolent grace was hiding a fury that he couldn’t altogether disguise. Fisting her fingers around the towel, she braced herself.

She immediately recognized his voice when he finally spoke and it indisputably confirmed his identity. “Is that why you got so pissed off all of a sudden? Refused to play nice with me on the phone? Something lead you to believe that Courtney’s my girlfriend?”

At his implication, a quiver of
something
ran down Maria’s spine that she immediately tamped down. Whether the other woman was his girlfriend or not was moot at this point.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Maria.
“I’m pissed about a lot of things,” she tossed back truthfully, attempting to ignore his anger and focus on her own.

“Yeah?” He took another imposing step closer. “What would those things be?”

Maria held her ground, refusing to step back. “Why would you care? You’re only here to get rid of me. I’m not stupid, I know what this sudden trip of yours is all about.” She tried to slow her heart rate by breathing deeply, but that idea was shot to shit when his eyes dropped to her breasts.
And son-of-a-bitch, he had beautiful eyes
.

His gaze slowly lifted back to hers. “Do you?” he asked in a voice that hinted she had no clue what he was thinking.

She ignored the hint and continued in a belligerent tone that had her questioning her sanity, “Yep. Your fragile little girlfriend wants me gone but was too scared to do it.”

“Just for the record, Courtney’s
not
my girlfriend, and she wasn’t afraid to get rid of you. The only reason you’re still employed at this hotel is because of me.” The displeasure in his tone turned to icy contempt. “And you’re either completely brave or completely stupid not to realize it.”

Son-of-a-bitch just call her stupid?
“Oh, I’m
not
stupid. I just don’t need your job. I think eight years of my life’s been enough, you know?”

There was a momentary pause before he asked, “You’re saying you’ve been working here for eight years?”

“You should know that already, if you gave even half a shit about your employees.”

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken, as if he had every right to her thoughts. “I want to know what’s got your panties in a twist. You used to be, shall we say, quite pleasant on the phone. But that went to hell in a heartbeat.”

She gave him a cool stare, unable to contain her sarcasm. “And that upset poor little you, right?”

A look came over his features that would have quelled a lesser woman
,
but her bravado was only faltered by a fraction. “Honey, I’m going to give you fair warning,” he bit out. “Tread lightly around me, capisce?”

She stiffened her spine until she felt as if a steel rod was imbedded in her vertebrae. “Or what?”

His eyes turned glacial and his mouth flattened as he hissed, “You want to find out?”

Asshole didn’t scare her.
He didn’t.
“The worst you can do is fire me.”

He bared his teeth as his features turned remote while he held her gaze captive. “That’d be letting you off too easy. And I promise you, nothing about this is going to be easy for you.”

Her heart began pounding but she defiantly lifted her chin. “You don’t scare me. Not your fucking corporation and not your gazillions.
Do your worst,”
she challenged.

Just as he took another step forward, the outer door was pulled open and the night clerk walked into the room. The male college student, a part-time employee of about twenty, took one look at her and then nervously glanced at Garrett Rule before looking back to her. “Yes?” she asked a tad too sharply.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. But Romero Calderon is on the line and is insisting on talking to you. I’m sorry, Maria, he doesn’t seem to understand time zones.”

“It’s not a problem.” She wiped her damp palm down the towel that covered her torso and took the cordless phone the clerk extended.
Why was she even taking the call? She was only going to get fired anyway. But she knew why . . .the hotel was her life, damn it, and she loved it as if it were a living, breathing entity.
Walking away from the two men, she lifted the phone to her ear while she powered up her tablet that lay on a wrought iron table, knowing she was about to need it. Pulling up the calendar, she inquired in flawless Spanish, “Good Evening, Mr. Calderon. How are you this evening, sir? Or should I say morning?”

While she listened to his plea about needing an additional block of rooms for his arrival the next month, she flipped through the reservations calendar. As he continued to plead his case, knowing of the hotel’s recent upheaval, she assured, “Oh, no, no, it’s no problem . . . I promise you, the refurbishment is almost complete, you’re truly going to love the place even more so now. I’ll get you the extra rooms even if it means allowing one of your guests the use of my own personal suite for the duration of your visit.”

As he thanked her and made a flirtatious rejoinder, Maria couldn’t contain a mirthful laugh as she shook her head and rolled her eyes at the sweet old man’s jest. The old guy always brought his wife, if not his entire family. He was the epitome of a family man; he was at least seventy-five and she knew he’d been very happily married for at least half of those years. “Oh, really now?” she flirted harmlessly back. “I think maybe your wife would have something to say about that.”

As she keyed in the instructions and ended the call, she handed the phone back to Justin. “It’s all set, we’re good to go.”

“You haven’t forgotten about the Anderson bookings, have you? That’s an entire block of rooms taken while the Calderon party will be in attendance.”

She shook her head with a sad smile. Damn, she was going to miss the hotel. “I haven’t forgotten. The renovations on the third floor will be complete before the week is up, we’ll have rooms to spare.”

As Justin departed the room, she gathered her things and blatantly ignored Garrett Rule as she began to slip away, not caring to finish the conversation they’d started.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get a choice.

“You’re fluent in Spanish?” the hard voice asked.

She swung around to face him. “Does that shock you, Mr. Rule? My given name is Maria Sofia Isabella Alvarez and I was born and raised in Miami; I’ve lived here all my life. What did you expect? That English would be my only language?”

“I never really thought about it. If you have an accent at all, it’s only slight.”

“And only when I allow it,” she couldn’t contain the small boast. “I can turn it on and off at will.”

His gaze slid slowly down her body before lifting to her eyes again. “I’ll just bet you can.”

Sucking in a breath at his clear innuendo, she snapped, “Goodnight, Mr. Rule.” Giving him no time to respond, she slipped from the room.

****

Garrett tried to sleep that night, but the effort was mostly pointless. Maria Sofia Isabella Alvarez had fucked him up completely. It had been obvious at first sight that his fantasies weren’t going to dissolve into thin air. Oh, hell no, his goddamn cock was on full alert, condemning him to more cold showers and jacking-off if he couldn’t get his hands on her.