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“I mean…um…I was wondering where we’ll be staying?”
    Marshall cocked his eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth crinkled into a small smile. “I’ve gotten us two rooms at the Venetian, one of my favorite places to stay in Vegas.”
    “I’ve heard it’s beautiful, but I’ve never stayed there myself,” I replied.
    “Well,” Marshall said, his blue eyes staring intensely into mine. “Get used to it. We’ll be there for a few days, and I want you to be comfortable.”
    * * *
    Moments later, I was standing just behind Marshall as he talked to the hotel clerk, which was a good thing because I didn’t want Marshall to see the expression I had on my face. The clerk informed him that they’d overbooked and the two rooms were no longer available, but they’d given him the VIP suite—one room, which we could share. Could I stay in the same room with him and not be tempted to explore more than legal documents? I wasn’t so sure.
    Marshall turned to me, looking at me with a whimsical expression. “Ms. Rowland, will you be comfortable sharing quarters with me? The suite is rather spacious—no closed quarters.”
    That sounded like a challenge. “We’ll just make it work,” I replied. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of showing him that I was the least bit nervous, despite my stomach doing flips inside of me.
    We went to the elevators and once inside, placed a card in the slot, showing that we were going up to a level that was not for a majority of the guests. It made me feel like I was a famous person. For some reason, I kept thinking of the more intimate side of Marshall, the one that he’d shown me last night when he fed me, and that made me forget that he was a guy who was larger than life to a great many people. To me, he was just the guy that I had internal debates about in regards to wanting to have a sexual tryst with him or just remain business associates. At that moment, I didn’t have too much faith that I’d be able to even mutter a weak “no” if he made a move on me. Hopefully my confused state of mind about wanting him and not wanting him, wasn’t visible to the man himself, who seemed to read my mind so easily.
    Marshall opened up the door to the suite and my jaw dropped. I’d never seen anything like it and it was absolutely amazing. The walls were a light golden tone with huge windows that overlooked the Vegas strip and provided a view of downtown Vegas in the distance too. I walked over to the window and looked down, seeing people on the sidewalks below who looked so tiny you could barely make out any details about them.
    I realized that I was staring out the window and afraid to even turn around. I sensed that Marshall was behind me and my mind immediately jumped to conclusions that he was already making a move. What was I going to do? Should I? Could I handle it? The questions didn’t stop.
    “It is a rather lovely view, isn’t it, Becca?”
    “Sure is.”
    “Would you like to see our bedroom?”
    I gulped. I knew I might as well get it over with. After all, we were going to have seven nights of sharing that room together coming up. “Sure. It can’t be much more spectacular than this casual area though.”
    “We shall see,” Marshall said, pressing his hand on my lower back. It sent a jolt through me that made my toes tingle and the hairs on my arm stand on end. In other words, it was arousing despite being a simple gesture on his part. I wondered if he knew that his touch did that? If he did he was certainly at no shortage of power for getting women to succumb to his will because I was about ready to turn around and pounce on him.
    The bedroom was equally impressive to the casual area of the suite, showing a giant king sized bed lined with cream and golden sheets and blankets. I leaned over to touch them, and felt how they were so soft to the touch. I knew they were Egyptian cotton and I bet they were at least 1500 thread count. I ran my hands over them,