Page 14 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
The weddinghadbeen called off—and there had been a man. But apparently he hadn’t (thank God) spent the night. Except for the spot where I’d slept, the bed was empty and still neatly tucked.
Looking around the room, I saw no sign of the disconcertingly hot guy from last night.
I had vague memories of vivid green eyes and white teeth that had gleamed in a wolfish smile so charming I’d actually forgotten for whole minutes at a time that yesterday had been the worst day of my life.
But it had.
And this afternoon I’d get on a plane, go home to Minnesota, go back to work, and try my best to forget about the whole thing.
Ugh.I dreaded the looks of sympathy coming my way—or worse, the friends and co-workers whowouldn’tlook at me, who’d find a way to be “busy” when I came into a room because they didn’t know what to do or say.
Oh well. I had to face them sooner or later. What else could I do? Stay here in the Greek islands and hide forever?
Not only could I not afford to do that, the prospect of going on my pre-paid tours and dining at beautiful seaside vistasalonewas enough to get my pitiful hungover ass out of bed and moving toward my suitcase to start packing.
The sound of a toilet flushing made me jump. Were the walls of the hotel roomthatthin?
Wait—this was a bungalow. Therewereno shared walls through which you could hear a neighbor’s flushing. Which meant the sound—and the sound of running sink water that followed it—had come fromthisbungalow.
“Oh good, you’re awake.”
A man had rounded the corner and was now standing—shirtless—in my room.
Notaman,theman. The one from last night.
He looked even better than I’d remembered, with dark, messy hair and a body so fit and muscular it would have made me drool—if I hadn’t been too dehydrated to produce saliva at the moment.
His eyes were arresting, and his face as a whole gave me serious young-John-Stamos vibes. Yes, I’d binge-watched every episode of Full House when I was younger—not sorry.
“I used one of the complimentary toothbrushes in there. Hope you don’t mind,” he said cheerfully. “I figured since Bryce wouldn’t be using it, it was fair game. Unfortunately, he didn’t leave any shirts, so whenever you’re feeling up to it, I’m gonna have to ask for that one back.”
I looked down at myself, only now noticing I was wearing an unfamiliar, and heavenly smelling—good God what was that amazing scent?—man’s t-shirt.
And not much else.
I pulled up the hem and confirmed that yes, I was still wearing the ridiculously expensive, sequin-embellished “bridal thong” Maddie had given me at my shower.
“Yes, they’re still on,” he said.
I looked back up at the grinning guy…. what was his name? Fox? No, that wasn’t it, though I’d heard that word at some point last night, and it was completely appropriate when it came to this guy.
Wolf.That’s what it was. Also appropriate, considering the look on his face as he stared at the place where I’d drawn up the shirt for a panty-check.
I dropped it and tugged the hem down in a futile attempt to cover more of my thighs.
“I know. I just… um… did we…?”
I’d never had to ask a question like this before, having never been roofied—and never having druggedmyselfto the point of oblivion as I apparently had last night.
“Did you… sleep over?”
His smile widened. “I did.”
My heart plummeted then fell further as he added, “But there was no sleeping involved.”
“Oh my goodness, I can’t believe I—”
Wolf interrupted, “At least onmypart. You… were out like a light about five minutes after getting to the room. I thought you’d be up and down all night worshipping the porcelain god, but you actually did pretty well. How’s your stomach this morning, by the way?”
