Spotlight; Chicago by Chance
Katherine awoke smiling. The kind of smile teenage girls have the morning after their first kiss. Last night was decadent. Craig was delicious, and she couldn’t wait for more. Her hand roamed the bed, finding his side cold and empty. She knew he’d been there. He climbed into her bed last night after a shower, his skin warm and smelling like her bath gel. He’d cuddled her against his chest while his large hands smoothed over her naked body until she fell into a deep sleep, safe in his arms.
She’d slept better than she had since the incident in DC. Getting away from that city was good for her. The new location and a few chart-topping orgasms were better than any sleeping pill.
She sat up and glanced about the room, a pout forming on her lips. Damn. She’d wanted to another round with him. Her recent lovers had been adequate. And now that she found a man who made her body sing, she wanted to indulge.
From the outer door of the suite, she heard a knock.
She scrambled out of bed, retrieving one of the hotel robes, not bothering to tie the sash. She rushed to answer, assuming he’d be waiting on the other side with coffee. Before opening the door, she cocked a hip and draped the robe so it hung open, showing a scandalous amount of skin.
“I missed you,” she purred as she pulled the door open.
“I missed you too, sweetie, but I still don’t swing that way,” Todd, her personal assistant, replied. His amused expression matched his teasing tone. He swept past her and into the room in a cloud of designer cologne.
With a glance, he took in the evidence of last night’s debauchery. “Oh, Katherine, you naughty girl. Already indulging in a fun-filled night on the town, I see.”
She turned, tying her robe tightly, and followed in Todd’s wake. She bent to retrieve her dress, which lay in a crumpled heap on the floor in the middle of the main room. She shook it out and tossed it over the ridiculous Foosball table in the corner. Todd had seen worse mornings after. He’d dealt with the chocolate syrup human sundae incident way back in the day that had required a team of professional cleaners.
She joined him in front of the rumpled blue couch. He eyed it suspiciously.
“Any need to disinfect before I sit? These are new Dolce & Gabbana jeans,” he asked, a blonde eyebrow raised.
She playfully smacked him on the shoulder, snorting when she tried to swallow her laughter. They both turned and flopped into the couch. Directly in front of them on the chrome coffee table were her stilettos, her neatly folded black lace thong, and a note on hotel stationery.
They both dove for the note at the same time. She managed to keep it out of his grasping but well-manicured hands.
“So what’s lover boy have to say?” He wanted to know.
She read the note, first to herself then for her audience of one:
Sorry Gorgeous-
Flying out to DC early, more fallout from the shooting. You were too peaceful to wake up, but I was tempted. Please, keep in touch. You’re spectacular. --Craig
“Shooting? WTF Katherine. I let you take one flight alone, and there’s a shooting?” Todd ran his fingers through his perfectly styled hair. Never a good sign.
“It’s a long story. Have you seen or listened to the news this morning?”
“No, I was driving your car in from DC, binging on a true-crime podcast. Wait, you’re on the news?” He looked flustered.
She stood, tossing the TV remote to him and inching toward the bedroom. He was going to flip into super overprotective momma bear mode as soon as he found out about yesterday. She was fine—more than fine. Last night had been one of the best nights she’d had in years, maybe a decade. Todd fussing over her would be a lot of drama for no reason. The sexy air marshal had already handled consoling her.
“Check out CNN, look for the O’Hare stuff. I can fill you in on the details on the way to meet the real estate agent.”
The TV flipped on, and the terrorist shooting at O’Hare was the main story, the only story. A flashing red terror alert banner scrolled across the screen, and a talking head was spouting off about a national tragedy averted by a DHS officer.
Todd waved the remote at the screen. “This is a big deal. You were there?”
“Ah, yeah. I was definitely there. I’ll tell you the details on the way to our meeting, but I need coffee and a shower first. Okay?”
“Ahh.” He was engrossed in the CNN coverage.
Wait until she told him she was the hostage and Craig, the DHS agent who rescued her, was lover boy. She could already see him offering to book hotel dates for their wedding. Todd was a hopeless romantic.
She swept her cell off the charger on the nearby table and headed for her room. Once safely away from Todd’s prying eyes, she composed a text to Craig:
Next time give in to temptation.
When she clicked send, her heart might have skipped a beat.
Michelle introduced herself to romance novels by stealing them off her mother’s bookshelf. She got caught red-handed when she destroyed a new book by dropping in the bathtub before her mom could read it. From stolen paperbacks to an overloaded iPad, Michelle’s passion for reading grew into her debut contemporary romance novel: Savannah Run.
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