8. Liz
Chapter Eight
LIZ
I don’t look back. Nor do I want to. I just want to go to my room.
Take a hot shower and forget this night ever happened.
So I keep walking, past some commotion in the lobby, and don’t stop until I reach the elevator inside the hotel.
It opens quickly, revealing a bellhop who stands as straight as the king’s guard.
“Where to, Miss?” he asks in a proper London accent.
I stomp inside, still fuming from the car ride. “Fourteen.”
“Apologies, Miss, but I cannot bring you there.”
Can’t bring me to my floor? What the hell? “Why not?” I demand.
“There was an incident. A pipe burst, and the rooms have flooded.”
“Flooded!” I blurt. “But my things are upstairs.”
“You’ll have to see the front desk, Miss.” The bellhop gestures ahead toward the busy lobby.
I growl, clenching my fists. “You’ve got to be kidding me right now.” I march over to the front desk, passing the line of guests, and head straight up to the hotel clerk who checked me in when I arrived earlier today.
“Excuse me, Ma’am but you’ll have to wait at the end of the queue?” the clerk says sternly.
I shoot a cold glare into his gray eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t have to wait in the queue if my room on the fourteenth floor wasn’t flooded.”
The clerk takes a moment as if recalculating the situation in his mind. “Very well then. May I have your name?” he asks in a much more accommodating tone.
“Liz McKenna.”
“Yes, Ms. McKenna. We just tried to ring your phone. I apologize for this unfortunate event, but a pipe has burst, and it is no longer safe for you to stay on that floor. We’ve had to move dozens of guests.
Hence the crowd.” The clerk nods, pulling my attention to the horde of other guests, no doubt affected by this unfortunate event.
There may be a pot of gold waiting at the end of this trip but damn, if the universe doesn’t want to make me earn it.
“So now what? What about my things upstairs?”
He returns his attention to his computer screen, clicking around on his keyboard. “It appears our staff was able to retrieve your things, which we have safely stored for you. However, as of now, there are no more rooms available. So we will have to find you another hotel.”
Another hotel? “Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, I am.”
There’s that word again. I rub my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Maybe London was a mistake. Maybe I should take my bags, head back to Heathrow, and take the first flight back to San Francisco. Could I be Kent’s fake fiancée from there?
“Fine, but can you please hurry?”
“Of course, Ma’am.”
Mother F— I need to blow off some steam.
Ordinarily, I’d charge into a kickboxing class, letting all my frustrations out on the punching bag.
But unless I want to look like a total nut job jabbing and kicking the air in the lobby, I’ll need to discharge this energy somewhere else. Like Leo—my loyal big brother.
I reach inside my purse for my phone, grunting as I finger around for it.
Finally, I open the bag and look inside, but it’s nowhere to be found.
“Where is it?” I sit my bag on the counter and begin taking each and every item out one by one, not caring that there are a couple of tampons and a few condoms in the pile.
Screw English propriety. This is an emergency.
But there’s still no phone. Where could it be?
“Looking for this?” A strong presence towers near me with a familiar, fine scent. It’s the man I ran away from. Kent holds my cell in his hands with a smug look splashed across his handsome face. My heart can’t help skipping a beat when I look into his eyes. Why does he have to be so gorgeous?
“Yes.” I snatch the device from his strong hand.
“You must’ve left it when you stormed off,” he says.
“I didn’t storm off.” That makes me sound like a petulant child, which I’m not.
“Oh, no? Then what was that back there?”
I shake my head, feeling hot, frustrated tears surface. But there’s no way in hell I will let myself break down in this lobby. Not in front of Kent Bonnaire. “I don’t know. This night just didn’t go as I’d thought.”
He huffs a laugh. “I couldn’t agree more.” Kent looks over at my pile and picks up the pack of condoms. “Oh, came prepared, did you?” he teases. Yeah, they were supposed to be for our date but that’s gone to hell.
“Not anymore.” I snatch them back, stuffing them into my purse.
“Shame. We could’ve had it all.” Kent’s tone softens in a light, playful way, so I allow myself to soften a little too. He doesn’t want to fight. Neither do I. But sometimes it’s easier to pick a fight with a man than tell him how you really feel.
“Look, I can see our deal is causing a little . . . distress. But I promise, everything is going to be fine. This is going to be a good thing. For both of us,” Kent offers and I look deep into his eyes, wanting to trust him but fearing I never will.
“Apologies, Ma’am but it appears our other hotels are booked for the evening. I can get you a room tomorrow at the Seven Oceans Hotel,” the desk clerk says, pulling my focus back to the matter at hand.
“What’s he talking about?” Kent asks.
I let out a heavy sigh. “My floor flooded and there’s no room for me tonight. Anywhere, apparently!” I raise my voice, smacking my hand on the cold counter. “I suppose I can sleep in the park and freeze to death.”
“Unless,” Kent says.
“Unless what? Does your family own a hotel too?” I ask, partially joking and partially hopeful he’s got four-star accommodations for me.
His cheeks turn slightly pink. “No, but my place isn’t far from here. You can stay there.”
“What? No, I can’t stay with you.” If I do, I risk using the condoms.
“Why not? It makes the most sense if we are to be engaged.”
“Engaged? Well, congratulations, Ms. McKenna!” the clerk says.
“No—” I sputter in an attempt to correct the man.
But then Kent offers him a polite, “Thank you.”
“Perhaps, staying with your fiancé would be best,” the clerk says.
“He’s not?—”
“Uh-uh-uh,” Kent cuts me off. “Pardon us for a moment.” Kent hands me my purse, places his hand on the small of my back, and leads me aside.
“I realize under the circumstances that you’re no longer comfortable with any kind of personal relationship between us.
However, we will be spending the rest of the month together, so you might as well stay with me.
I’ve got a large penthouse with a guest wing—your own bedroom, a work space, and a luxurious bathroom.
Plus, complete access to my wine collection. ”
“I don’t know, Kent,” I say, not because it’s not a decent offer but because it will just make it that much harder to resist him, which I must do to keep this whole thing above board.
“I’m at the office most of the time anyway. You’ll hardly see me there.” Hmm. Could this work? Maybe. Sensing my hesitation, he continues, “Look, just stay one night. If it’s not for you, then we’ll find you a fabulous hotel tomorrow.”
“One night, huh?” I say, staring at the brown freckle in his left iris.
“That’s it. What do you say?”