Anything but Vanilla(74)
“Just go down to the front desk and they’ll recode your key.”
It seemed Lorelei had an even pissier look—and this one called him all kinds of names, as well. “I am trying to avoid seeing people.” She gestured to her dress. “It’s rather obvious that I didn’t spend the night in my own room, and I don’t want people wondering where I did spend it. Or who with.”
“Since when do you care?” Lorelei was a LaBlanc. One of the benefits of being a LaBlanc was complete certainty of your place in the food chain. Lorelei could do pretty much whatever she wanted with almost complete impunity. And she had.
“I care. Let’s just leave it at that. Just call Housekeeping and ask for towels or something. Whoever brings them will have a master key and can let me into my room.”
“That’s a lot of assumptions.”
“What?”
“I sincerely doubt that any hotel employee who wanted to keep their job would just let you in without a way to verify that you are the registered occupant of the room. And there’s no way to do that without going through the front desk.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue that point. Did the woman seriously not understand what she was asking?
Lorelei cursed an unladylike blue streak and flopped dramatically on the bed. Then she bounced right back up like the bed was on fire, cheeks flaming.
Honestly, he had to admit it was a good look for Lorelei. The pink tint offset her fair skin and dark hair and called attention to her high cheekbones. Of course he’d be hard-pressed to decide what wouldn’t be a good look for Lorelei. Even nursing what had to be a massive hangover, she could still stop traffic. There were shadows under those big blue eyes—eyes that were currently shooting daggers at him—but they only emphasized her ethereal, almost fragile-looking bone structure.
That same structure gave her a willowy look, all long and lean, that made her seem taller than she actually was, and the slightly wrinkled cocktail dress she’d worn to the reception last night only made her legs look longer. The memory of those legs wrapped around him...
Lorelei was stronger than she looked. The look of fragile elegance was misleading. There was nothing fragile about the personality behind those looks, and Lorelei was pacing now with anger and frustration.
“What the hell am I going to do?”
He sighed and reached for his phone. “Let me call Dave.”
“And this Dave can help how?”
“Dave is the head of security here. He’ll be able to sort this out. Discreetly, of course.”
That stopped her pacing. “You just happen to know the head of security for this hotel?”
“Yes.” He paused in scrolling for Dave’s number and looked up to see her staring at him suspiciously. “Is that a problem?”
“It just seems convenient.” She shrugged. “Considering.”
“Considering what?”
“Your job. Having an in with security here just seems... Well, convenient.”
The insult, while not unexpected considering the source, and certainly not the worst he’d heard, still rankled. His columns and commentary were syndicated in newspapers around the country, and he’d built his platform and audience the old-fashioned way. She might not like his style, but he’d earned his place in the national discourse. He didn’t need an “in” with anyone to get his leads—hell, these days he had people falling over themselves to provide all the information he needed and then some.
He tossed the phone on the bed. “You know, I don’t have to do you any favors, and I find myself quickly losing the inclination altogether.”
Lorelei’s lips pressed together until they disappeared. He could practically see the way she was fighting back a snappy, snarky comeback, but she finally nodded. “You’re right. My apologies. Please call your friend.”
It was terse, and not completely sincere, but he’d be the bigger person. Accepting the apology at face value, he called Dave. He glossed over the situation as much as he could, trying to avoid mention of Lorelei’s name, how she came to be in his room and why she just couldn’t go to the front desk like a normal person would in this situation. After some laughter and speculation on Dave’s part that Donovan didn’t dare relay to Lorelei, he hung up. “Someone from Security will be up with a key to your room shortly. You’ll just need to hang out here a little while longer.”
“Well, it’s not like I have anyplace else to go.” She walked over to the small coffeepot and asked, “Do you mind? I feel near death.”