One Bossy Offer (146)

So unless there’s an employee diligently working graveyard shift one floor down...

I’m so screwed.

Amazingly, Goliath isn’t out of the shower yet.

That means I still have time.

I need to run like hell for the elevator while I have a head start.

Sucking in a deep breath, I straighten up, willing my legs to move.

I’m about to turn and run but the shower door swings open so fast it’s dizzying.

My lethal Adonis steps out, snapping a towel from the shower rack. He whips it around his waist faster than I can blink.

My gaze follows his movement.

Again, I hate that he’s so hot.

I hate that I’m losing time as I spin around for the door, practically leaping for it.

“Stay or it’s going to be much worse!” he bellows, his voice rolling thunder.

Oh, God.

I know for a fact he doesn’t have a weapon while he’s almost naked. Should I run for it while I can? But he’s so much taller, so much stronger, I doubt I can outrun him.

Is it time to settle for just not being tortured?

I sigh and freeze in place.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you here to steal my shit?”

What the holy hell is he talking about?

I’m already doubting the serial killer thing. Two other theories come my mind.

He’s either smoked or snorted something way too strong or he’s in the middle of a mental breakdown.

“How did you get in here? Tell me now,” he demands.

His scowl threatens to burn me through the floor, but he’s not exactly moving on me in a hostile way. Yet.

Maybe the mess of broken glass between us has something to do with that.

The way he hesitates gives me just enough of my wits back to glare at him.

“Um, what? Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I used my keycard.”

“Keycard?” he spits back. His brow tightens, a look of utter disgust on his face.

Any empathy I had just disappeared.

Whatevs.

If I’m dead meat, I might as well go out giving him a piece of my mind. I step closer, but my foot slides over a crystal shard.

“Ow!”

“Fuck,” he rumbles, moving forward carefully. “Lady, are you okay?”

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.