Chapter 1

Jordan Sparks sighed as she looked around the spacious suite they had sent her to work in as a private concierge. Why her boss had chosen her she didn’t know, as it was obvious from the state of the rooms that the guests in this penthouse were all single men. No one else could make a mess like this in just a few hours and feel good about leaving it. She called down and requested a three person housekeeping team to come and straighten up and freshen the room.

Upon entering each bedroom, she noticed that the luggage had not been unpacked, and she unpacked it for each guest as part of her services. She was pleasantly surprised when she got to the master bedroom that the occupant of this room had not made a mess and had even unpacked all his own things. The clothes in the chest of drawers were of a high and expensive quality and nicer than most of her clients at the newest five-star hotel in San Antonio.

Jordan took a last look around the room and reentered the main parlor of the penthouse just as the doors opened and in walked a group of men. They were all in their twenties or early thirties, and to be honest, they were all good looking. In the middle of them was the most stunning man Jordan had ever seen. His complexion was a deep golden color, almost Mediterranean. He had straight dark hair that was expertly styled above his ears, a firm jaw with just a hint of stubble, not even quite at the five o’clock shadow stage. He held himself with a bearing unlike anyone she’d ever met, and the smile on his face made him even more enticing. And his eyes ... His eyes were his best feature by far. They were a soft mossy shade of green that seemed to suck her in. His deep voice went straight to her heart. “Well, hello there. I didn’t expect anyone to be here when we returned.”

Jordan smiled. “Hello, I’m Jordan Sparks. Someone in your party requested a concierge for your stay, that’s me. I’m here to facilitate anything you need during your occupancy of this suite. There is a cleaning crew at work in the bedrooms. And I can arrange any entertainment you may desire, including hosting a dinner party or making reservations at any of San Antonio’s premiere venues. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll be happy to provide.” A blonde with what Jordan considered to be an utterly ridiculous soul patch slid past the others. “You’ll provide anything we might need?” His tone and hungry gaze told her what he was insinuating. Her eyes hardened. “Within reason. I am not a pimp, or a call girl; nor do I, or the hotel, provide anything illegal to our guests. I would suggest that you satisfy those hungers on your own.”

The other men laughed and catcalled the smooth operator. “She has your number, Terence. Even in America, you’re striking out.”

The Greek God who’d first caught her attention didn’t laugh, and his eyes seemed to spark from angry to irritated before a calm facade dropped over him like a cloak. “I apologize for my friends’ lack of manners and decorum. I appreciate your willingness to help us have the best weekend we can here.”

She put the rest out of her mind, realizing this was the natural leader of their group. “So, how may I help make your stay more enjoyable?”

The perfect specimen of manliness opened his mouth when a man with the body and shaggy hairstyle of a surfer, his lighter brown hair streaked with blond highlights, spoke up. “It’s my buddy Owen’s bachelor weekend. When we return home, he’ll be putting on the old ball and chain. We need to celebrate his last little bit of freedom. What would you suggest?”

Jordan loved to help her clients, but she usually received a full dossier on them before providing services. When she arrived this morning, she was informed that these men hadn’t filled out anything, so there was no dossier available. “That would depend on what you want this ‘last bit of freedom’ to entail. As I said, I don’t facilitate romantic encounters; but I can make reservations and reserve VIP rooms at any of the clubs in and around San Antonio. Or if you prefer something classical, there is a Whiskey and Cigar bar you could reserve a room in. If you’re looking for the more American bachelor party, there is a Gentlemen’s club I could give you directions to. However, I have no contacts there to get you VIP treatment. Or if you want something unique, the hotel’s owner has a lake house out in Galveston on the beach. I know some people there that would come and throw you a beach party complete with bonfire, Bar-B-Que and music. We could even provide the whiskey and cigar option there, if you’d prefer.”

While she could see that, the last option appealed to most of them. The man they came to celebrate with seemed crestfallen at all the options mentioned for a moment before he schooled his face into that practiced smile.

“Tonight, I think we should do the Club VIP room. Can you find one without all that techno music, Jordan? If you could arrange it for tomorrow, maybe the beach house and party. Whiskey and cigars in the afternoon?”

“Of course, Owen, is it? Or is there something else I should call you?”

The smile he gave her was genuine and lit him up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. It was all she could do to keep her hormones in check as he went from stunningly handsome to WOAH MAMA, off the charts delicious.

“Owen is perfect.”

Jordan smiled back at the man and with a single nod she headed toward the hidden office/sleep space for the concierge. All while trying to get her heartbeat under control. “Let me see what I can do to put these plans in motion. But just between us.” She leaned in close to him. “What did you really want to do that no one mentioned?”

He frowned as he looked at her. “What makes you think I wanted to do something else?”

“My job here is mostly reading people and exceeding their expectations. While you smiled at every option, you chose ones that your friends seemed excited about. But none of those that were mentioned caused a genuine smile. So, I know you are mostly doing these things because it’s what they want to do. What was it you wanted to do?”

He looked at his friends who had dispersed around the large great room, a few watching a rugby match on the giant screen; a couple at the wet bar and three standing alone in various parts of the room looking at nothing, which Jordan thought was strange. “I wanted to take a tour of the Alamo. However, that wouldn’t interest the rest of them.”

“I see. Well, let me go make the arrangements. I’ll be back with your reservation time for the VIP room at Club 10 tonight.”

“Thank you again, Jordan.”

“No thanks necessary. It’s my job to make these arrangements. Should I ask for a chef or meals to be delivered beforehand?”

“Can you just procure us reservations in the restaurant downstairs?”

“I can. For how many?”

“Oh, um six. Three of the guys have other plans.”

“I’ll be back soon.” Jordan smiled. Then, with one last lingering glance at the handsome Owen, she headed for the small office/sleep space set up for her use when she worked in this penthouse.

Once the door was closed securely behind her, Jordan walked over to the desk and flipped on the small fan set in the corner. Nine guys, all very good looking, were delicious eye candy, even if one of them had the manners of a wild hog. Another one of them was everything that pushed her buttons, looks wise. She needed the fan to cool her off so she could concentrate on getting them what they wanted.

Before she called Club 10 about tonight, she needed to call the one person she tried not to call unless necessary. But to clear the use of the beach house, she needed to. She sighed and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. For all the rest, she’d use her office phone, but her cellphone would get her further faster with the hotel’s owner. She hit the contact name and waited as the phone rang. “Jordan, I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you at work, but I have a client at the hotel who wants to have a beach party, and I was wondering if the beach house is available tomorrow evening?”

“I don’t believe there is anything scheduled. Let me check with my assistant; she’ll know for certain.”

There was the sound of him speaking to someone else before he came back on the line. “The beach house is now reserved for your use, young lady. Now, when are you going to come over for dinner?”

“First of the week? I’ve got these clients through the weekend.”

With a sigh, the company owner grunted. “You know this isn’t necessary Jordan, all you have to do is ask, and...”

She interrupted him. “I know, but I want to do this. Please don’t interfere.”