Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
I blink bitterly at him, wincing through the pain. “I just— I think I stepped on a piece of lamp. Not that it’s any of your business...”
“You’re replacing that.” His eyes fall to the floor with a huff.
Is he serious?
“Like hell! Winthrope’s whole company can take me to court first. I’d love to see that go down. If they hadn’t let some lunatic in my room in the middle of the night, I wouldn’t have grabbed the lamp in the first place! I was scared. Ever heard of self-defense, asshat?”
He meets my eyes and snorts, raking a frustrated hand through his wet sandy-dark hair.
“Sweetheart, you’re redder than a barn. You might be a lot of things, but 'scared' isn’t one of them.”
Damn.
He noticed, huh?
My face heats at the realization.
Double damn.
“Still waiting to hear how you got into my room,” he snarls. “What do you want, anyway?”
My mouth drops.
“Your room? Wow. So you’re really going to play it that way? Just how stupid do you think I am?”
He cocks his head.
“You managed to slip past security and made it into the presidential suite somehow. I doubt you’re dumb, but if you don’t ask, you don’t get. First rule of business. So, let’s just make this easy on both of us. Why the fuck are you here, watching me shower? What do you want?”
“Right now, I want you out of my room.” My temper flares so hot that cut on my foot throbs, and I wince again before saying, “And FYI, I wasn’t watching you shower. I just had to know who the hell was in my room making noise—”
“Your room?” He laughs, this low sound like a highly amused predator. “You stood there for a solid minute after you saw me, enjoying the show.”
The brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen drill through me. He’s older, maybe in his early thirties.
Then he clasps his hands over his head and flexes.
My jaw drops.
That just makes his cocky smile wider as he raises a brow. “I saw you checking me out in the mirror. Waited for you to make the first move so I could see if you had a weapon—a real one, I mean.”
Prick.
Frowning, I purse my lips and glare harder.
“Considering you’re too underdressed to be a foreign agent coming to ransom me, though...” He gestures.
And that’s when I realize I’m standing in front of this near-naked jerkface in nothing but a skimpy old sleeping shirt and panties.
My heart plummets from shame to pure rage in two seconds flat.
“You, sir, are in my hotel room in the middle of the night. If I stood around after catching you in my bathroom, it’s because I was shocked. I have a right to be freaked out after finding a naked giant in my hotel room,” I bite off. “Also, I don’t believe for one second that you thought this was your room. It has a whole floor to itself. You had to try to come up here.” My voice cracks at the end.
But at least he isn’t staring me down like tomorrow’s breakfast anymore.
He clears his throat, frustration and confusion lining his face. “You’re damn right. This room is supposed to be mine for the weekend. My key is on the counter next to the sink if that makes you feel better.”
I glance toward the bathroom sink. Sure enough, a sleek silver card with the word Winthrope engraved across it in black letters lays beside it.
So he has proof.
Annoying.
“I thought you were a serial killer,” I whisper.
“I feel like one now. I just got off an international flight and didn’t expect this shit. All I wanted was a shower and some sleep before I was rudely accosted by a crazy chick in a t-shirt with string beans for arms while I tried to wash Australia away.”
“String beans?” I repeat. “Are you calling me weak?”
He shrugs.
“You dropped the lamp.” He shakes his head, glancing at the mess on the floor. “That was a beauty, too.”
Wait.
He just said international flight and talks like this is his room. For real, I mean.
Has he been here? How does he know what the lamp looked like before I blew it to smithereens?
Before I can ask, he interrupts.
“Nobody just waltzes into the presidential suite. Who the hell are you?” His glance almost cuts me in two.
“My name is Piper.” I swallow. “I’m supposed to have a reservation here for the next few days. I checked in at the front desk. They gave me a keycard and what I thought was an amazing upgrade. I had a drink at the poolside bar and came upstairs to crash. You know, everything normal people do when they start a nice trip. It was all going swell until a naked crazy barged in and started threatening me.”
“Threatening? Give me a break,” he says slowly, his eyes falling to my feet. “How are you still standing and running that mouth?”