Page 101 of Sinful Escape

Ignoring the agony in my brain, I strode down the stairs, a woman on a mission. “It was a great night.”

“Si, it was.”

I picked up my pace at the bottom of the stairs and dashed for the exit.

“Especially at the end.”

Oh, God. I halted and spun to him. Roman stopped an inch from slamming into me. “Look, I’m sorry about that.”

“I am not.” A mischievous grin curled on his lips.

My head pounded, my eyes burned, and my chest heaved from all that striding, yet I was painfully aware of the excited little butterflies dancing in my stomach. Which was totally fucking absurd.

Roman was not interested in me.

I was four years older than him. Four! I was an old woman in his eyes.

My newfound libido was screwing up twenty-nine years of wisdom. Without any idea what to say I just rolled my eyes, spun back around, and dashed for the exit.

My sprint for the bus was met with stares from the passengers on board, and I tried to ignore them as I aimed for the door. For some inexplicable reason, I paused at the steps and glanced up to the top windows of the keep, and there, half hidden in the shadows, was Count Frederik. He raised his hand and blew me a kiss. My jaw dropped. What the hell?

Flustered barely even described what I was feeling as I turned from him and climbed aboard the bus.

After clearing my throat, I reached for the microphone and knelt on my chair to face the tour group. “Good morning, everyone. I trust you enjoyed your stay at Thorsteinn Castle?”

My question was answered with a boisterous cheer that shot straight through my tortured eyes and into my pounding brain like it had been blasted from a canon. I sucked in a wobbly breath, clutched the seat, and prayed my mind and mouth kept it together.

Roman climbed into the driver’s seat, and within seconds we left the central courtyard, rolled over the drawbridge, and began heading down the mountain. In an attempt to avoid chatting with Roman, I intended to inform the guests about our next destination. But with each winding turn in the downhill run, I grew more and more queasy. Clutching the seat back, I sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to settle my stomach.

This isn’t good.

Turning to the front, I hooked up the microphone and slipped onto the seat. My eyes were having trouble focusing on the road but closing them was worse. My stomach did a flip, and I must’ve groaned or something because Roman spun to me.

“Hey, you okay?”

I nodded and attempted a smile, but it wasn’t easy while I was gasping for air.

“You need me to pull over?”

I shook my head, then quickly nodded as a blaze of acid raced through my belly. Roman yanked the steering wheel, skidded to a halt and pressed the button to open the door. I jumped out and barely made it off the step before I hurled.

A soft palm on my back confirmed Roman had joined me. Flicking my hand, I tried to shoo him away.

“Okay, take it easy.” He rubbed my back and spoke in soft tones that only made it worse.

Embarrassment engulfed me like a tsunami, and I was tempted to run and jump off the cliff that was barely ten feet away.

Fortunately, I’d already cleared my stomach, and my situation was over within seconds. I stood, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth.

“Better?” The concern drilled into his honey eyes had me fighting a quiver in my chin.

I nodded. “I guess so.”

“Come on. Let’s see if we can find you some food.”

I huffed. “And coffee.”

“Si, caffè and food.”

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