Page 115 of The Bad Wedding Date

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“I’m starting to think you know every hotelier in the city.”

Charlotte ran her hand over the back of the hotel room sofa, taking in the new surroundings before she turned to me, raising a brow.

I placed her bag on the floor before tucking my hands into my trouser pockets. “What’s that look for?”

“This is me waiting for an answer.”

She may not have thought she had much confidence and always shied away from confrontation, but with me, she loved to battle. I could see it in the subtle sparkle of her eyes, and I hoped that spark never died.

“Technically, you didn’t ask me a question.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, unable to stop a small smile rising. “Do you even have a home?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“London.”

“That’s not a fixed address.”

I shrugged, offering her nothing else.

She shook her head. “You’re impossible,” she said before making her way to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her, leaving me to stand there looking at that stupid door like I already missed her company after three seconds of being starved of it.

What the fuck was happening to me?

The shower came to life, and I made my way over to the bathroom. I knocked on the door with a single knuckle and leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest in time for her opening the door. She looked up at me with those eyes I wanted to stare into for the rest of my days.

“Hey,” I whispered.

Her cheeks flushed on cue. “May Ihelpyou?”

“Don’t you have a phone call to make before you take a shower?”

“Do I? Must have slipped my mind.”

“Charlotte…”

We’d discussed her work situation on the drive over to the Woodward Hotel, and how, for the time being at least, it would be safer for both Charlotte and the residents if she told them she wouldn’t be able to make it in for her shifts for a few days. I’d played my worry down, convincing her this was just a precaution, but the photograph of the two of us sat in the back pocket of my trousers, the heat of it almost burning.

Whoever had taken that picture had been watching us before that day, and I had no idea just how much they’d seen. The idea of them having images of me with my head between Charlotte’s legs at the swimming pool made me want to ball my hands into fists and tear the entire city down until I found the bastard responsible. The thought of anyone else seeing her that way made me want to rip my own thoughts out of my brain.

That sick sense of possession frightened me. She felt like mine… and I hated that for her.

Nobody owned anybody in this world, yet there I was, staring at her, wondering how I could lay claim to every inch of her heart, body, and soul without sounding like a complete jerk for wanting it.

“I’m not backing down on this,” I said, cutting my own thoughts off when she blinked up at me innocently. “We agreed.”

“Fine,” she sighed, blowing out her cheeks before she walked back into the hotel suite and dug through her bag for her phone. “But, for the record, I’m not happy about this.”

“Believe it or not, neither am I.”

Her eyes shot up to mine.

“You think I want to put your life on hold like this?” I walked up behind her. “Do you think I like the idea of someone being in your apartment? Or that you could have been there when they broke in?”

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