Page 17 of Not That Complicated

He raised a brow. “Cutting right to it, are we? All right. I like a man who asks for what he wants. I’m off in an hour. Can you keep it together until then?”

I growled. “I can’t sleep because of all the sex that the couple next door to me are having.”

“Are the honeymooners in the room beside yours?” he said. “I had no idea.”

Like hell he didn’t, the little shit. “I would like to change my room, please,” I said stiffly.

“I’m afraid we’re booked up.” He didn’t even look at the computer.

“Will you please check?”

“I don’t need to check. I filled the last room twenty minutes ago. Nice lady. Dr Ridley. She’s a regular. Comes to do research at the Bodleian Library. Specialises in the Norse sagas.” Adam was loving this. Every second of it.

I wrinkled my nose. “Who regularly chooses to stay at a Premier Lodge?”

“People who aren’t entitled snobs and can get by with clean rooms, decent amenities, breakfast included, and have no burning need to post the whole thing as an Instagram story?”

“Are you calling me a snob?” My voice went high with indignation.

Adam considered me thoughtfully. “Yes.”

I bumped up against the front desk and poked a finger into the shiny wood between us. “I’ll have you know I have lived and stayed in all sorts of places. All sorts!”

“Doesn’t make you not a snob.”

“It…does. It does! I once stayed six months in an off-grid cabin in Wales, sleeping on the floor.”

“I’ll bet it cost you two hundred pounds a night.”

“It did not!”

“I bet you were glamping.”

I sucked in a breath and went up on my toes, leaning into my widespread hands. “How dare you.”

“Very easily.”

“I’m not a snob!”

“I know. I also know that you are incredibly easy to manipulate.”

“Bollocks.”

“It took me about ten seconds to distract you from whingeing about your room. You’re so wound up you’re almost climbing over the desk to get to me. Another ten seconds and I’ll have you all the way over here, begging me to distract you with my lips.”

I couldn’t argue with that, even if I wanted to.

I dropped my gaze to his smug, smiling mouth and back up to his knowing face. “Make it two seconds,” I said.

For a moment I thought he’d laugh at me and make me die of embarrassment on the spot. For a moment only.

He slid a hand over my jaw to curl it around the back of my neck. He nudged my chin up and lowered his lips to mine.

I’ve made some bad decisions in my life; buying a house with a dead body in it was the current number one.

Kissing Adam Blake in the deserted foyer of the Premier Lodge was a strong contender for number two. I was sure I’d regret it any minute.

But not quite yet.

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