Page 8 of One Weekend in Vienna

You sure do.For a second I worry that I said it out loud and I release the death grip I’ve got on his arms. Thank goodness the evening is almost over. I need a break from the overwhelming magnetism of Max Walker. I thought for sure he was going to kiss me back at the rink and when he didn’t, the pang of disappointment I felt shook me to my core.

My brain knows that Max Walker is like eating too much chocolate – it’s never a good idea, but my body is like,girl, it’s going to taste so good.

“Thanks,” I say breathlessly, carefully checking my next step on the slick cobblestones.

“No problem.” Max takes my hand and I stop, but he just grins. “For both our safety until we get to the hotel.”

I don’t shake him off because he’s not wrong, it’s pretty bad out here at the moment.

Finally, we reach the hotel, and the doorman rushes out to escort us in. “Poor weather, tonight,fraulein,” he says. “May we get you anything, sir?” he asks Max.

“I don’t think California sunshine is on the menu, but thank you,” Max squeezes my hand. “Which floor are you on?”

I realize we’re still holding hands and I pull my free. “Oh, you go ahead, I’ll have to book a room for the night.”

The doorman frowns. “I believe the hotel is full, unfortunately.”

“Doesn’t Luxx have a block of rooms?” Max asks.

“We do, but they’re full. I live close, but across the river and I’m not going to be able to get home tonight, with transportation being taken off the roads.” I sigh and roll my shoulders. I’mcold, emotional, and tired. I really just want my little studio apartment, some hot chocolate, my favorite pajamas and a Christmas movie. “You must be exhausted, Max. I’ll just go to reception and see if I get lucky.”

Max trails behind me to the counter. The clerk smiles flirtatiously at him. “May I help you, Mr. Walker?”

God, this hotel is amazing. Sophie told me they have the staff memorize all the VIP guests, even if they’re only here for a single weekend.

“She’s looking for a room,” Max flashes his trademark slow smile and I tamp down my annoyance. If his flirting gets me a room tonight, I’ll take it.

The clerk taps away. “Oh, I’m so sorry, we’re full tonight.” Her mouth turns down in sympathy. “The weather, plus the holiday tourism makes us very busy.”

I glance out the long window next to the reception. The Christmas fairytale scene has disappeared. Instead, the window is coated in ice, and I can hear the freezing sleet tapping against the glass. It’s a miserable night.

Max slides closer to me. “I have a room.”

My heart pounds. “Max, no.”

“Come on, Anna. You can’t go out in this weather and it’s just for one night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He tilts his head, like a mischievous dark-haired puppy and my cold heart, which was already thawing when it comes to Max Walker sweats a little bit more from the heat of his charm.

Practiced charm.I just need to keep reminding myself of that.

“You need to be here in the morning, anyway, for work.” His lips tilt up in a grin and he spreads his hands. “And I’m work, aren’t I?”

I swear I hear the desk clerk swoon. I start to shake my head again, but somehow my lips move in direct contradiction to whatmy brain is screaming and the word “fine” falls out of my mouth before I can stop it.

5

MAX

The door to my hotel room flashes green and I hold it wide open as Anna pauses. She’s practically bristling, her arms wrapped around her middle like she can hold in all the words I know she wants to hurl at me. I don’t want to spook her and have her change her mind. That said, I throw up a little prayer to the universe that Vienna is having a freak winter storm and there’s no room at the inn. No room, that is except for my room.

The door snicks closed behind us and I follow her in, watching as she stops in front of the large king-sized bed dominating the room.

“Do you want the top bunk or the bottom bunk?” I say, lightly.

Her head swivels to me in disbelief, like I’m some kind of idiot. She surveys the room and I see it through her eyes. It’s luxurious as far as hotels go, with a dark, wood-paneled wall behind the admittedly huge bed – always a plus when you’reover six-two – and intricately patterned fabric wallpaper that is highlighted by the heavy pale gold satin drapes, drawn now by the turn-down service, but earlier framed an incredible view of the city. There’s a small sitting area, with a desk, chair, and floor lamp but it’s clear the room’s main feature is the bed, piled high with crisp pillows and a comforter that looks like it could double as a cloud.

“There’s no sofa bed?” she asks. I shake my head, even though it’s clear there isn’t one. “What about a cot?”

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