Page 7 of The Rebel

Her lips pulled wide. “Why would you assume that?”

Because from the moment we’d connected stares, I could tell she liked what she saw.

I could tell she was turned the fuck on by my appearance.

I could tell she was fantasizing about what my lips, my tongue, my hands could do to her body.

And when you combined those with her expression, I knew she was single.

But I wouldn’t say that to her yet. That was far too forward.

I ran my thumb past my day-old scruff, stopping at the side of my mouth. “Let’s just say it’s a feeling I have.”

“Your feeling is right.”

Before I could respond, a hotel employee moved in next to me and said, “What can I help you with?”

The front-desk clerk.

I’d been so entertained that I almost forgot I’d requested to speak to one.

I turned to fully face him. “I need to book a suite for the night.” I reached for my wallet again and tried to hand him my credit card.

He wouldn’t accept it and said, “I apologize, sir, but we’re completely sold out.”

My heart began to pound. “Sold out?”

“Unfortunately.” He nodded. “I don’t even have a regular room available until after the New Year.”

“There’s a blizzard outside.” I pointed toward the lake for emphasis. “I’m stranded in this town until at least tomorrow. You’re saying there isn’t a single goddamn room in this entire hotel that you can put me in?”

He nodded. “Again, I apologize, sir. But there’s a hotel about two miles down the road. They might have an opening, but I honestly doubt it. Lake Louise gets pretty busy around the holidays.” He paused. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

It was a standard response—the staff had been trained to ask that question, even when they couldn’t fulfill the initial request.

What I wanted was to tell him to go fuck himself because I knew there were rooms held for emergencies—employees who couldn’t get home for the night and needed a place to stay,executives who came in at the last minute. A hotel was never technically sold out. They just weren’t willing to give me one of those rooms.

It wouldn’t matter if I told him who I was. In fact, it would probably make matters worse.

I would get back at them in another way.

I would build a hotel less than a mile down the road that would fucking bury theirs.

I muttered, “No, thanks,” and I turned back toward the bar, downing what was left in my glass. I called the bartender over as I set the empty down. “Keep these coming.” I chuckled even though not a single word I’d uttered was funny. “I need to be drunk enough that I’ll be able to pass out on the couch in the lobby.”

Rowan requested a second round as well and then said to me, “There must be an assistant in your life who’s about to get your wrath for not booking you a hotel.” She winced.

“Another assumption.” I narrowed my gaze as I looked at her.

“Well, it is my turn. You assumed last … no?”

The spouse comment. She was right.

“Yes,” I replied. “But it’s not my assistant’s fault. I knew the weather when I scheduled this trip, and I insisted on flying home today. In my mind, a backup plan wasn’t needed. I was returning to LA, no matter what.”

I hissed out some air, wishing I’d done things differently, and took out my phone again, sending my assistant a text that told her to find me a hotel in the area. The moment the message went through, I shot off a text to the driver who was waiting for me out front, letting him know he could go home. I wasn’t going to make him stick around while my assistant found me a place to sleep. I’d rather him be home and safely off the roads since they weregetting worse by the minute. If she happened to secure a room for me, I’d somehow find a ride there.

“Let’s see if she can score me a hotel nearby.” I placed my phone on the bar so I would see my assistant’s message the second it came through.

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