Uninhibited in New Orleans (The Becky Chronicles, Book 3) Read online

  Uninhibited in New Orleans (The Becky Chronicles, Book 3)

  Title Page

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  Connect with Sienna Duncan

  Other titles by Sienna Duncan

  Uninhibited in New Orleans

  (The Becky Chronicles, Book 3)

  By: Sienna Duncan

  Uninhibited in New Orleans (The Becky Chronicles, Book 3)

  by Sienna Duncan

  Text copyright © 2016 Sienna Duncan

  All Rights Reserved

  Smashwords Edition

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  Connect with Sienna Duncan

  Other titles by Sienna Duncan

  Dedication

  To everyone who needs someone like “Max”

  CHAPTER 1

  Here I go again. How do I get myself into these situations? I just don’t think it through. You’d think I learned my lesson by now. Nope, not me.

  I have to make the same mistake several times before I figure it out. Yeah, I know. I have a talent for acting irrationally from time to time. In my defense, I have two words for you.

  Maxwell Roberts.

  I knew it the moment I laid eyes on him that he was going to be trouble. Maybe I should say, I knew I was going to be in trouble. Max (he told me to call him that) knows it, too. I can see it in the way he undresses me with his eyes. He makes sure it is obvious what he’s thinking when he looks at me. I’d like to say I’m immune to his charms, but it would be a lie.

  If I didn’t need this job, I’d tell Gwen (my editor) to get someone else to write the article. I love working for the magazine, Oasis. Gwen has known for a long time that I wanted to travel to New Orleans and check out some of its hot spots. Only for work, of course. That’s before I met him.

  Maxwell Roberts is the owner of Sanctum Grand Hotel. It is one of the most luxurious hotel chains in the world. I was practically salivating over the idea of staying there for a couple days. Gwen knew that when she set up a meeting with its sexy owner. The meeting she failed to mention to me. I could’ve at least prepared myself for it. (The meeting not the hotel owner) Nothing could’ve prepared me for that introduction.

  I was caught off guard with the way a single look from him could reduce me to a puddle of goo. It was the first time I had been tongue tied by the mere presence of a man.

  When Max walked out of Gwen’s office and his dark, brown eyes landed on me, I knew I was in trouble. I need a drink of water just thinking about the way he slowly looked me up and down. A part of me (I’m sure you know which part) wanted to offer myself to him right there. My body’s intense response to him made so sense.

  We went out to dinner to supposedly discuss my trip to his hotel, but Max asked more questions about me personally than anything else. He asked questions about my family and friends and was curious about the small town I grew up in. I told him there wasn’t much to tell because I was extremely shy as a kid. He refused to believe it. It’s funny because most people don’t believe me when I tell them how shy and awkward I used to be. Max laughed and asked more questions about my upbringing. I have no idea why he was so interested.

  I tried to change the course of conversation, repeatedly, but he would not be deterred. I must admit I was flattered to have so much attention by this gorgeous man. What pleased me the most, was the fact that he seemed genuinely interested in all I had to say. I had to look away more than once because of the intensity of his gaze. Oh, he was very polite and all that. I guess I have never had someone make me feel so on edge.

  I expected Max to avoid sharing any personal details with me, but he surprised me with his openness. I learned that he spent most of his teens and adulthood working in the hotels his grandfather started building about sixty-five years ago. His parents died in a car accident when he was only thirteen years old. His dad was his grandfather’s only child just as Max was an only child. He moved in with his grandfather and started the tedious process of learning how to take over the business one day. He had to start at the bottom and work his way up. His grandfather believed he needed hands on experience at all levels to understand how to operate a hotel. I tried to imagine him scrubbing the toilets, and other things like that, but my mind rejected those images. It just didn’t fit with the wealthy man before me. He told me after he graduated from college, his grandfather, who was in his seventies, truly began to groom him to take over running the hotels. With his grandfather’s death five years ago, Max became the owner of the luxury hotel chain.

  Although Max makes visits to all the hotels during the year, he told me he has a residence in New Orleans. I was amazed at all the things he had accomplished in the short time since he’s taken over, and the sense of duty he had for not only the family business, but his employees as well. I respected anyone who truly appreciated their employees.

  The evening ended with me agreeing to travel to New Orleans in a couple days. Max said he would call the hotel and have a room reserved for me. I didn’t like the idea of him taking control like that. I know he’s just being courteous and probably wants to make a good impression so I’ll write something complimentary about his hotel.

  For the next couple days Max Roberts was in my thoughts way too much. I tried to concentrate on the most mundane of tasks, but my thoughts kept going right back him. The thought of being in his hotel, and that close to him, was more than a little unsettling.

  When I checked into the Sanctum Grand Hotel (late last night) I was in awe of the suite I had been given. I called the front desk to make sure it was correct, because I expected a regular room. Not this grand suite. Surely, a mistake had been made. Nope. I was told Mr. Roberts requested I be given this suite.

  Of course, he did.

  I looked around and tried to soak it all. The suite opened to a beautiful sitting room. I walked passed the furniture to the door I assumed led to the bedroom, so I opened it.

  In the middle of the room was a king-sized bed. I noticed a single, long stemmed red rose was on top of one of the pillows. (I seriously doubt all the guests are given such a romantic gesture) I didn’t need to guess to figure out who it was from. I took a deep breath and walked into the bedroom. I reached out and picked up the long stemmed rose, and brought it up to my nose.

  I know a goofy smile spread across my face. I felt a little giddy. The attention scared the hell out of me, but I was also loving it.

  My alarm woke me up at seven o’clock on the dot. I was so not ready to get up. Oh, well. You gotta do what you gotta do.

  I sat up on the side of the bed for a few moments. The bed was so soft, and comfy. I hated leaving it. I stood up and walked into
the bathroom to take a hot shower. I passed the huge tub in the middle of the bathroom. I looked at it longingly before I undressed to step into the shower. I quickly scrubbed my body and washed my hair.

  (Before I left Fairhope, I had my legs and all the other girlie parts waxed. Not that I expect anything to happen, mind you.)

  Afterward, I slipped on a light blue cotton dress and sandals. In the south, the humidity is absolutely dreadful. We refer to it as “muggy.” It starts getting “muggy” near the end of April and doesn’t let up until the fall.

  So, I didn’t choose the prettiest dress I brought with me, instead it was the most practical. I wore very little make-up. Black mascara and my favorite berry lipstick. Less to sweat off, for sure.

  I pulled my hair into a high ponytail. No matter how many times I washed my hair, it was becoming increasingly obvious, I was just going to have to be patient about the color. I decided a few weeks ago to get my hair dresser friend, Taylor, to dye my hair burgundy. Her roommate, Shelby, was all for having hers done as well. (They live in the apartment across from mine.)

  We had admired Nikki’s hair (a bartender from Mickey’s) with its beautiful burgundy color and the tips dyed blue. I wasn’t bold enough for the blue, but burgundy seemed like a good idea.

  Until it wasn’t.

  My pasty white skin along with the burgundy made me look like I was either deathly sick or should’ve been in a horror flick. I’m serious. No exaggeration.

  Taylor tried to convince me otherwise, but I knew the mirror was not lying. Also, I knew I needed to wait a little while before I had it processed again. I had it deep conditioned at the salon every week plus the conditioner I used at home. Taylor promised to look at it after I got back from this trip.

  During our dinner, Max looked at my hair often, but he never said a word about it. He glanced at it several times during our dinner, but never said a word. He doesn’t strike me as a gentleman, so I don’t know what was holding him back. I was prepared for the usual questions, but he surprised me by not mentioning it.

  I felt butterflies in my stomach as I walked into the elevator. I wanted to try the five-star restaurant the hotel touted. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the elevator. There were several people in the lobby as I walked to the restaurant.

  All the tables were covered with white tablecloths, and there were fresh flowers as the centerpiece. It had an air of sophistication, mixed with a laid-back feeling you only get in New Orleans. A server met me at the entrance, and escorted me to a table.

  I ordered an omelet. It was served at my table with fresh fruit. I know, I’m in New Orleans and I have ordered something I can easily get back home. I really wanted some beignets (they’re like small pieces of funnel cake goodness). I have been trying to eat healthier, so this trip is going to be a challenge.

  I was eating a piece of cantaloupe, when a shadow fell over my table. I knew without looking up it was Max Roberts.

  Damn! He looked ridiculously yummy. I couldn’t help myself and found my eyes were looking him over. My fingers itched to run through his light brown hair. There was a little stubble along his jaw, just enough to add a little ruggedness. I’ve never been one to like facial hair, but it just made him sexier. My eyes trailed over his body.

  I have always been a sucker for a man in a suit. I could tell from the cut it has been tailored just for him.

  Max cleared his throat.

  My eyes snapped to his face and he raised his eyebrows. He knew I’d been checking him out. I could feel the heat moving all the way up from my neck. He smiled widely in response.

  “Good morning, Becky. I hope you got settled in last night and slept well.” Max pulled out a chair at my table and pulled it next to mine.

  Well…I guess just invite yourself. I was thinking that along with some other comments when I realized he was waiting for me to respond to his inquiry.

  I was finding it difficult to concentrate with him being so close to me. The intensity of his gaze mixed with the clean scent of his cologne was beyond distracting. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.

  “It was one of the most comfortable beds I have ever slept on. I didn’t want to get up this morning because it was so comfortable.” I paused. “The rose on my pillow was lovely.”

  Max seemed pleased with my comment. “Wonderful. I hope you will find more things to your liking during your stay.”

  I didn’t miss the hidden meaning behind his statement. Maybe it’s just me, but the way he said it made me think he wanted to be a part of what I would be liking here. Or it could’ve been the way his dark brown eyes never wavered from my blue ones. I had to look away to break the trance I felt he was trying to put me in. I took a sip of water to try to calm my nerves.

  It didn’t help.

  My breath caught when I felt his hand cover mine.

  “I have some meetings today, but I would be honored if you would have dinner with me this evening.” His voice was so seductive I could feel chill bumps break out on my arms.

  Shit! I’ve got to get it together. I can’t believe he is having this effect on me. The last thing I need is for him to realize it. What am I saying? He probably already knows.

  Max was rubbing small circles on my hand with his thumb. It sent more chills up my arms. My mouth felt dry all of sudden and I licked my lips without thinking. Max’s eyes darkened with intensity as he followed the sweeping motion of my tongue.

  “Sure.” I sounded breathless. Great. Way to go, Becky. Smooth.

  Max smiled at me, then brought my hand to his lips. He squeezed my hand gently before saying he would meet me at six o’clock.

  I sat there dumbfounded for a few minutes. I was only in Max’s presence for a few minutes, but he made me forget all the things I needed to do today.

  After all, I am here to work. Right? I need to make sure I remember that. Even if he has the ability to melt panties with just the sound of his voice.

  I finished drinking my water and decided to explore the city. I needed to take some of the tours the city offered, because I knew my readers wanted the whole experience. Not that it bothered me at all to do it. I loved the rich history here.

  There are tours for everything you can imagine. I was looking forward to touring antebellum homes, and they even have ones for paranormal junkies. Lynn would shit if she was here with me. She loves all things paranormal, and they have lots of haunted ones to go on.

  I decided to start with a tour of the old antebellum homes. New Orleans is so rich in history, and I knew there was no way I could uncover everything in a couple days.

  That doesn’t mean I won’t give it my best shot.

  I learned a long time ago, the best way to learn about any area is to ask the people who live there. You will be amazed (and never disappointed) if you ask around and see what the natives do in their daily lives. Some of the best restaurants are what my mama would call a “hole in the wall.” They don’t look like much from the outside, but the down-home feeling along with the great food, more than makes up for it. The old adage, don’t judge a book by its cover, applies wherever you travel.

  By the time I finished the tours and checked out some of the shops, I was worn out. Although I took some water with me before the tour started, I was parched by the time it was finished. The temperatures had climbed up today, and it was sticky hot. It felt like the few strands of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail, were plastered to my head.

  So not attractive.

  I walked into the hotel hoping Max was not in the lobby. The last thing I need is for him to see me looking like this. When I’m all sweaty my face is usually dark red. I can just imagine what it looks like with this burgundy hair of mine. Scary.

  I thought I heard Max’s voice, so I quickly walked to the elevators. I sighed when the doors began to close. (That was a close call) Until a hand reached out to stop the elevator from closing. What idiot would do something like that? The doors opened and Max stepped into the elevator.

>   Shit!

  I almost groaned in embarrassment. I did not want him to see me looking like this.

  Oh well.

  “Why do I get the feeling you were trying to avoid me?” Max arched his eyebrow. I could hear the laughter in his voice.

  Is he a mind reader? Damn. I glanced at Max and could tell he knew how uncomfortable I was at that moment. The asshole was enjoying it, and that pissed me off a little.

  “That’s ridiculous.” I tried to avoid his gaze by not looking everywhere but at him. Like a magnet, my eyes returned to his. “I just got back from some tours, and I am on my way to my room to take a shower since I’m all sticky.”

  Max looked me up and down before returning his eyes to mine. They had darkened considerably during his perusal. My breath caught at the intensity of his gaze.

  He walked in front of me and continued to hold my gaze. I took a couple steps back and leaned against the wall of the elevator. Max moved forward and placed his hands on the wall on both sides of my head.

  “I like you hot and sweaty.” He spoke softly, never breaking eye contact.

  I wanted to look away so badly, but it I couldn’t. It felt like an invisible cord was tying me to him in that moment.

  I watched his eyes shift to my lips.

  I opened my mouth to take a deep breath. The pupils in his eyes dilated. I was feeling extremely hot and it was getting harder to breathe. I noticed his breathing has quickened the same as mine. He lifted his hand and his thumb traced my lower lip.

  The trance I was in was broken when the doors opened on my floor. I looked to the opened doors, and glanced back at Max. He was watching me. Then making up his mind, Max reluctantly stepped away from me.