Page 2 of Sinful Escape

Roman had it all going on.

I’d had six drivers since I started my career as a tour guide—three in their fifties and three in their twenties. The older ones were only doing the job until something better came along. The younger ones wanted to party.

With most of our tour groups comprising of young single people and a fair percentage of them being women, there was plenty of partying. Sex was on tap.

Roman was young and oozing sex appeal.

Clearly, he was here for all the wrong reasons.

And that meant I was in for hell.

“Buongiorno, Daisy.” Roman’s warm hand enveloped mine. “I’ve heard all about you.” Thanks to his Italian accent, even his voice exuded charm.

“Oh. Really?” I looked up into his eyes and was distracted by their interesting honey color.

He released my hand. “Si, Bruce told me you are the top tour guide at Vacation Dreamz.”

“Oh.” Fucking great. One minute Bruce is telling people I’m the best operator he has, next minute he’s telling me I’m out of a job.

“Si, he said you and I will make a great team.”

“Oh.” For a woman whose job involved talking, monosyllables were suddenly my thing.

“On that note . . .” Bruce spun on his chair and thumbed toward the window. “You two better get going.”

In the distance, the London Eye loomed in the sky. The famous icon was just one of the many attractions I’d intended to visit one day. Thanks to my boss’s stupid new policy, I was about to run out of one days.

Bruce’s immediate view overlooked the Vacation Dreamz parking bay. Twenty-four tour buses could be parked there at any one time. Only three were present this morning.

The purple bus, artistically decorated with graffiti images of the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and several other European icons, was mine. I’d been working on the same bus for two and a half years.

Congregating near it, with their abundant luggage, was my tour group for this month. They were waiting for me. Waiting for us—me and my driver.

I hated being late. It was Bruce’s fault. I’d scheduled this meeting a full hour before I was due to start. He’d kept me waiting for forty-five minutes.

Asshole.

Roman rubbed his hands together, drawing my attention back to him. My new hell. “This’s going to be eccellente.”

He held his hand toward Bruce. “Thank you for this opportunity. I will not disappoint you.”

“I know you won’t.” Bruce nodded at me. “Make sure Daisy shows you the ropes.”

Glaring at my boss, I wished I had a voodoo doll of him so I could shove giant needles into his bulging belly very slowly.

Roman turned to me, wriggling his eyebrows, and indicated toward the door with his hand. “After you, signora.”

“Hey, Daisy, don’t forget this.”

Clenching my jaw, I spun to Bruce.

He held forward the folded letter that’d instigated my crisis meeting with him. Bruce’s smug grin confirmed our discussion was over for good.

I snatched the letter, shoved it into my bag, spun on my heel, and stormed from the room.

“What’s up with her?” Roman’s voice, despite being on the other side of the door, no longer sounded slick and charming, but rough-edged.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Bruce answered. “She’ll get over it.”

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