Chapter 13
“Rhett needs to look up the definition of privacy in the dictionary.” ~ Dakota
Dakota
I shiver as I fiddle with the thermostat to switch off the air conditioning. It’s freezing in this hotel room.
I’m not used to air conditioning. The Mermaid Motel doesn’t have any. A rickety ceiling fan, I’m convinced is going to fall and decapitate me at some point, is all the cooling off available to me.
I return to my bed and cuddle under the covers. I moan at how soft the linens are. The first thing I’m going to do if I ever pay off Adam’s creditors is buy a nice bed with a comfortable mattress and soft sheets.
I yawn. It’s been one long ass day. Between flying to Atlanta, the mess up with the room, and a long meeting with the management team of Velvet Blossom before an extensive dinner at some fancy restaurant where I had no idea what to do with the thousand forks and knives on the table, I’m exhausted.
But I don’t have time to rest. I want to get ahead on some work for Eli so that when I return to Smuggler’s Hideaway, I can work fewer hours for a couple days. Sadie’s happy to give me more hours at the motel, and considering I’m missing out on two nights of work due to this trip, I want to grab whatever extra hours I can get.
I log into the Buccaneer’s Whiskey server and get to work. My phone rings but I ignore it. I’m in the middle of a spreadsheet. If I stop now, I’ll have to start all over again.
The phone stops ringing and I sigh in relief. My relief isn’t long-lived, though, as it immediately begins ringing again. It must be Eli. He can be quite demanding.
“What?” I answer the phone.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Is that any way to speak to me?”
Crap. It’s not Eli. Far from it. It’s Grigori. A scary Russian guy my former husband was stupid enough to loan money from.
“What do you want?”
Grigori is scary but I’m not an idiot. If I show him any fear, he’ll pressure me even more. He’s just an old-fashioned schoolyard bully. With a scar on his neck and a gun in his pocket, but still, the concept’s the same.
“I want all the money your husband owes me.”
“Dead husband,” I correct because I do not want Adam linked to me in the present. The asshole is lucky he’s dead and buried.
“What you call him doesn’t change anything. You’re late.”
“I am not late. I have one more day to make the payment.”
As soon as I receive my travel allowance from Eli, I’ll have enough to pay Grigori. I’m in charge of transferring the travel allowance, so technically I could have paid myself early, but I am not falling into that trap. Pay myself early once and pretty soon I’m paying myself months in advance to get this Russian asshole off my back.
Adam was a scumbag. I am not. Even if I have to deal with scumbags now because of him. Rot in hell, Adam. Rot. In. Hell.
“Banks do not transfer money on Saturdays.”
I glance at the calendar and swear under my breath. I forgot tomorrow is Saturday.
“It’s not my fault banks don’t work on the weekends.”
“It’s your fault if the money isn’t in my account by midnight tomorrow. You know what happens then.”
“You can’t charge me two-hundred percent interest because the stupid banks are closed.”
“Those are the terms agreed upon.”
“I didn’t agree to those terms!”
“But you’ll pay, or do you prefer to suffer the consequences when you don’t pay?”
“I can’t pay off the debt if I’m dead.”
He chuckles. The hairs on my neck rise at the evil sound. “My darling, I don’t unalive people. I show them the error of their ways.”
I should probably be recording this to send to the police. Hell, I probably should have gone to the police the first time Grigori contacted me. But a dead snake on my dining room table combined with a creepy message was enough to warn me off.
“You’ll get your stupid money. Now, leave me alone.” I end the call and throw the phone on the bed.
“Who was on the phone?”
“Aaargh!” I scream and clutch my chest.
Rhett raises his hands in the air. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“For someone who doesn’t mean to frighten me, you scare the devil out of me often enough.”
“Who was on the phone?”
I glare at him. “Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?”
“You weren’t being quiet.”
“The volume of my voice is not an excuse to eavesdrop on my conversation.”
He shrugs. “Regardless. I heard you.”
I feel my cheeks heat, but I ignore my embarrassment. I’m not the one who should be embarrassed. Rhett should be embarrassed for violating my privacy.
“Be a gentleman and pretend you didn’t.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. I force my gaze to remain on his face. I will not check out those muscles. No, siree bob. Not me.
“A gentleman doesn’t let a lady suffer.”
“Lucky for you, I’m no lady.”
“Dakota,” he grumbles.
I lower my voice and imitate him. “Rhett.”
“I can stand here all night.”
“This is my room.”
He nods to the doorway. “Which I’m not standing in.”
Why the hell didn’t I shut my door? No use worrying about it now. I’ll simply rectify the situation.
I slam my laptop shut and fling the covers off of me before marching to the door. I try to shut it, but Rhett sticks his foot in the jam to stop me.
“What the hell are you wearing?” he grumbles in a low voice, which I absolutely one-hundred percent refuse to believe is sexy.
“Pajamas. It’s what normal people wear to bed.”
His brow lifts. “Normal people do not wear those.”
I grunt. If I had known I was going to share a suite with Rhett, I would have packed my flannel pajamas. But I didn’t. And now I’m in a tiny tank top and matching shorts. See the aforementioned comment regarding the fan determined to behead me.
I slap my hand on the door. “Let me shut the door and then you don’t have to see my abnormal pajamas.”
He frowns. “I’m not going away until you explain who you were talking to on the phone.”
“I’ll tell you.” I lean close. “None. Of. Your. Business.”
He growls.
“It’s called privacy for a reason, Mr. High and Mighty.”
“I’m not letting you use privacy as an excuse to hide secrets from me.”
I rear back. “Hide secrets from you? Who do you think I am? Your best friend? Are we going to braid each other’s hair next?”
“Stop trying to distract me.”
I push up on my toes and get in his face. “Stop invading my privacy.”
“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you.”
“Who said I need your help? Do I resemble a woman who can’t help herself?”
His gaze rakes my body and he coughs. “I didn’t say you’re helpless. I said I could help.”
“Wake up and smell the fire. I don’t need your help.”
“Oh yeah?” He cocks a brow. “Prove it.”
“I don’t need to prove anything to you. I’m not one of your brothers who enjoys accepting dares and spending days in bed with poison ivy on their junk.” I hold up a hand. “And please don’t ever tell me what happened. I do not want to know.”
His eyes narrow and I can practically see his mind spinning around over different ideas. When he smirks, I know I’m in trouble. And not the good kind either.
“I’ll tell Eli.”
Ice settles in my veins. I can’t lose this job. I’ll have to flee. Grigori knows where I am. “You’ll tell Eli what? You have no idea what’s happening.”
“Who do you owe money to?”
Crap. He does have an idea what’s happening.
“None of your business.”
“Don’t make me tell Eli.”
“Don’t blame being a tattletale on me. If you tell Eli, that’s on you. Not me.”
“Dammit Dakota, tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I’m in the dark.”
I throw my arms in the air. “I don’t need you to help me. I can pay my debts without Mr. High and Mighty helping me.”
“Do not call me Mr. High and Mighty,” he grumbles.
“Mr. High and Mighty. Mr. High and Mighty. Mr. High and Mighty.”
He growls before palming my neck and drawing me near. I slam into his body. He melds his lips to mine and I immediately realize I messed up. Because now I want more.
But I shouldn’t. I should know better. Men are assholes who will lie, cheat, and steal to get what they want. All while pretending to love you to your face.
No thanks.
“Let me in,” Rhett whispers against my lips and my panties dampen at the feel of his rumbling voice against my mouth.
Shit. I am in so much trouble.