Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 by Maisey Yates (inspirational books .TXT) 📗

pillar and watched as Grace, clumsy with giddiness, gushed over the couple. The man laughed at something she said, the full, throaty laugh of a man who had everything going for him. Something about it sent a ripple down Nina’s spine.

A porter approached, startling her. “Ms. Taylor, my name is Jim. Please come this way.”

She followed him up a grand, winding staircase, that unnerving laugh licking at her ears. And because she couldn’t let a damn thing go, Nina tossed a final look over her shoulder. To her surprise, Mr. VIP was at the bottom of the stairs staring up at her without the filter of the smoky sunglasses. Mortified, she held his gaze a beat longer than necessary for no other reason than to prove that she wasn’t. Their eyes locked, and for a split second it was just the two of them in the courtyard. Nina grabbed the handrail for support. Jim the porter called out, “This way, Ms. Taylor.” Good thing, too, because for a moment there, she’d forgotten who she was and where she was headed.

On the second-floor landing, Jim turned to her. “Sorry about the commotion. You know how it is when Hollywood comes calling.”

Nina knew something about that. The daughter of a Broadway actress, she’d witnessed firsthand the frenzy the arrival of a Hollywood player could provoke. Her mother’s friends would enjoy a collective orgasm whenever a film actor signed up for a play. So…Hollywood? She’d been wrong on all three guesses.

“I shouldn’t say this, but it’s a madhouse down there. Glad my shift is over.” Jim stopped abruptly and checked the key in his hand. “You’re in Oasis? Really? I thought…”

“What?” Nina skipped a step and nearly tripped.

“We could have taken the private elevator,” Jim said glumly. “Sorry about that.”

“Uh…no worries. I could use the exercise.”

“All right. Only one more flight to go.”

The stairs wound up to the third floor. Nina looked over the rail down at the courtyard. The VIP couple was still chatting with Grace. She had time. To do what exactly? As she tried to puzzle that out, her gaze lingered on him. She had the luxury of staring at him unchallenged and took full advantage. An athlete would have had rough, rugged edges, but he was Hollywood beautiful: solid, symmetrical, smooth. His casual clothes looked expensive, and he wore them with effortless cool. His smile was like the sun. Nina’s core turned to jelly, and it had nothing to do with the languid heat.

“Ms. Taylor?”

Damn it! Busted again!

Nina swiveled around and followed Jim, her heart racing. On the third floor, potted lavender plants lined the way down a hall to a pair of carved mahogany doors. She was at the threshold of paradise, but what was the plan here? Take a quick look around. That was all. And why not? She’d been robbed of the experience.

Jim punched a code in the keypad and explained that a new code would be sent to her via email. Then he inserted a hefty skeleton key in the lock and turned it until the lock clicked. Sweat beaded at Nina’s temples, and she wondered about the maximum sentence for trespassing. The door swung open to reveal a Greek key tiled floor that seemed to go on forever. Jim ushered her into a sitting room furnished with antiques. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, and French doors opened to a wide balcony. Nina’s anxiety gave way to a rush of excitement.

Jim stacked her luggage on a loading table in the foyer. “Would you like a tour?”

“No, thanks. I’m beat.”

“Very well. The master suite is to your left, and the guest room to your right. Each room has a private bath.”

Nina tipped Jim handsomely to better send him on his way. She preferred not to get him mixed up in this. As soon as the door shut behind him, she wasted no time storming the master bedroom suite, only to stand frozen at the threshold.

This was the famous Oasis. The space glowed. Honey oak furniture, gold leaf accents and yellow silk drapes all helped to spread the sunlit luster. A mural of hand-painted flowers crawled up the walls. The bed was a sea of blue silk anchored by four wood posters—and it called out to Nina. She went over, sat at the edge, bounced a bit to test the mattress, then she spilled onto her back. “Oh, yes,” she murmured, staring up at the ceiling. A fresco depicted angels floating on tufted clouds. They looked down at her knowingly.

She made a mental note for her journal: Elegant, opulent and a little too much! I love it!

Only one more box to tick: a selfie. For good measure.

Nina sat up, pulled her phone from her pocket, smoothed her hair, selected a photo filter, tilted her head, pursed her lips, grimaced, attempted a smile and—

“Does the bed feel just right, Goldilocks?”

The phone fell from her hand. The masculine voice had a blunt British accent. It punched her in the gut and left her winded. Nina folded forward, squeezed her eyes shut and prayed that the angels frolicking on the ceiling would do her a favor and summon the angel of death.

God, please! I’d rather die than live through this. Amen.

CHAPTER TWO

The first thing he noticed was a flock of birds flying past the bell tower at the end of the courtyard. Julian Leroy Knight, better known as JL Knight, felt that he could’ve been anywhere in the world—Mexico, Spain or Cuba, where a similar estate stood. He’d done his research. This mansion was an exact replica of a villa in Havana’s elegant suburb of Miramar. The original currently housed an embassy.

Julian exchanged pleasantries with the property manager, declined a glass of champagne and left his assistant, Kat, to handle the details of his stay. He ventured deeper into the yard. A central fountain stood as tall as him and struggled to mute the street noise. Day or night, Ocean Drive was a party. He should know. At nineteen,