Keeping that thought in mind, he quickly registered, saying hello but not getting involved in any deep conversations. None of his few close friends from high school had checked in yet, which gave him time to go to his room and clean up for tonight’s dinner. Tomorrow would be a formal dance—prom for adults? God, at least there will be booze—but tonight was a more casual event in one of the private banquet rooms.
Not wanting to risk running into Lauren en route to the dinner, for fear she’d then skip it, he left his room a half hour before it was scheduled to start. He figured he’d kill some time in one of Celebrations many lounges—he’d seen a list of the themed places in his resort guide.
He’d taken a half-dozen long strides toward the elevator, his eyes on her closed door, when he saw that door begin to swing inward. Almost stumbling, he came to a sudden stop.
Praying it was a maid leaving after delivering some extra towels, he held his breath, spying a swish of pink fabric and a delicate bare foot.
Lauren. It had to be Lauren.
He was about to be busted as a freaking stalker.
2
“OH, SHIT,” SETH MUTTERED. It looked like it was game over. If she found out they were staying on the same floor in this massive place—which couldn’t possibly be an accident—not only would she not go to the dinner, she’d probably change rooms. Or leave the reunion altogether.
Not thinking about it, he leaped into a small alcove, trying to cram himself between a small decorative table and the wall. On the table stood a huge vase filled with plate-size flowers, peacock feathers and curly sticks of wood. As he tried to shove himself into the pretty pathetic hiding place, he accidentally set the vase in motion. Lunging, he grabbed the thing in both hands and yanked it toward his chest, hoping not only to steady it but to try to hide behind its fronds and branches.
This is ridiculous.
He was acting like…a high schooler. No, worse, a middle schooler, a stalker-y, wimpy kid being led around by his hormones, hoping to make a girl like him. Jesus, he was Seth Crowder, successful sports agent, named as one of L.A.’s most eligible bachelors in a West Coast magazine last year. Yet around Lauren Desantos, he’d become an absolute basket case. This reunion thing was taking all his rational brain cells and mashing them to bits. “I see you there, you moron.”
Gritting his teeth, he peered through the flowers and feathers, imagining the image he presented. Lauren was standing a few feet away, glaring at him, her arms curled protectively around an empty ice bucket. She wasn’t yet dressed for the evening. All she wore was a long robe—silky and pink against her skin.
He shoved away the want, want, want that filled his brain.
“Uh, hi.”
“Doing a little redecorating for the hotel?”
He pushed the vase back to the center of the table, then stepped out of the alcove. “I bumped into it and thought the vase was going to tip over.”
“So you leaped behind the table to steady it?”
Totally busted, he couldn’t prevent a self-deprecating grin from widening his mouth. “Would you believe I was trying to steal the flower arrangement? It would go so well with my color scheme.”
She snorted. “Not only are you the world’s worst decorator, you’re one step short of color blind. How did you get my room number?”
No point in denying it. “My sister.”
Her brow went up in surprise. “Emily’s here?”
Lauren had always liked his kid sister, and had been good to her. She’d taken the five-years-younger girl under her wing and treated her like her own sibling, as if knowing how badly Em needed an older female figure in her life. God knows their mother had never been a good one.
“Yeah, she works at this place.”
Lauren’s expression turned wistful for a moment. “I’d love to see her,” she admitted. Then, as if noticing how much that idea pleased him, she hurried to add, “To tell her to keep customers’ room numbers private!”
“Don’t be mad at her. You know she always loved us as a couple back then.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thirteen-year-olds love Edward and Bella as a couple, too.”
“I’m not a vampire.”
She hesitated, as if ready to argue that point. She had, after all, already called him a dog and a moron. What was a little you disgusting bloodsucker between old friends?
“Well, you sure don’t glitter” was all she finally said.
“And you’re not a vapid klutz.”
One brow arched up. “Do a lot of vampire-romance reading these days?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? Channel surfing on late-night cable.”
“Huh. I’d have figured you more for the porn type when you’re doing your late-night channel surfing.”
Zing.
He cleared his throat. Not to mention clearing his mind of the images her words elicited. Porn and sex weren’t something he should be thinking about while Lauren was around, not if he wanted to retain his sanity and his edge, both of which were pretty shaky right now. Damn, but the woman could cut the legs right out from under him…and make him laugh while doing it.
“Back to Emily,” he insisted. “She loved you. She always wanted you to be her sister-in-law.”
Another unladylike snort preceded her response. “Oh, and I suppose you’re here to propose to me now?”
If I did, would you say yes?
No, of course she wouldn’t. Nor was he here to ask that question. Getting her forgiveness and understanding was the first step, maybe dinner and drinks after that. He’d be lucky to get her to voluntarily touch him. Marriage seemed like a distant dream.
Funny, it had been what he’d dreamed about all those years ago when he’d been so suddenly separated from her. Would she believe that? Probably not.
He stepped closer, unable to resist leaning in to breathe some of that Lauren air. She wore a different perfume than she had in the old days. No longer innocent and flowery, it was heady, womanly, evocative.
Or maybe that was just her. She was incredibly womanly, amazingly sexy, from the top of her shining gold-brown hair down to the tips of her red-tipped toenails peeping out from beneath the robe. And, of course, everywhere in between.
The in-between was especially distracting. Beneath that pink silk was nothing but luscious female. Even with the ice bucket in front of her, he could see the way the V-neckline of the robe revealed some amazing cleavage. Lauren had been more slender as a teenager. Now she was all curves, all inviting and sultry, with full breasts, a small waist and hips that were meant to be
