Page 61 of The Treasure Hunt Hookup

Relaxing with Reeve in a clawfoot tub? Sign me up.

We’re just approaching the lobby desk when his phone sounds. “It’s my agent,” he reports, checking the screen. “I better take this.”

“Go ahead, I’ll get us all checked in.”

He moves off, as I greet the hotel clerk with a smile. “I have a room reservation for tonight?” I say. “Ivy Fortune.”

The woman clicks through on her computer, then frowns. “I don’t see anything here…”

“I confirmed it last week. Here, I’ve got the booking code,” I add, showing it to her on my phone.

She clicks again, then stops. “Ah.”

Uh oh. “Why do I get the feeling that’s not a good ‘ah’?” I ask, bracing myself.

The clerk gives me an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but it looks like we had another booking under the same name, for the Presidential Suite, and it looks like whoever was working … cancelled yours as a duplicate.”

My heart sinks.

Jake.

“It does look like we have another room left,” she adds quickly. “But… it’s a single. Up in the attic. The old servants’ quarters.”

I pause. Any other day, I’d take the attic room, consider myself lucky to have a bed at all, and chalk the whole thing up to bad luck, but right now, I’m not feeling quite so easygoing. I want a romantic weekend full of hot, luxurious sex, and dammit, I’m not going to let Jake stand in my way.

“Have you ever been cheated on?” I ask her, planting my hands on the desk.

She blinks. “I …”

“Because I have. By my husband. The man who promised to have and hold me, honor and obey, and all that jazz. The man who’s currently booked into your Presidential Suite.”

The woman’s eyes widen.

“Now, I’m not a woman to hold a grudge,” I continue. “Well, maybe just a small one. But I truly believe, the universe will work everything out in the end. Call it Karma, or whatever you want, but Jake will get what he deserves – and so will I. And right now, I deserve a night of wild, headboard-shaking passion with that gorgeous man over there.” I point to Reeve, who’s across the lobby pacing, talking animatedly on his call. “An ornate, historical headboard. Like, say the one you have in your Presidential Suite?”

I cross my fingers under the desk. The clerk pauses, glancing around.

“I mean, you do have the same last name …” she says finally, her lips curling in a conspiratorial smile. “It would be an easy mistake to make.”

“Yes!” I exclaim.

She giggles, and quickly prints out the reservation page. “Room 601, you can’t miss it,” she tells me with a wink, sliding a couple of keycards across the desk to me. “Enjoy your stay.”

“Oh, I will,” I beam back.

I leave my bag with her, just as Reeve returns. “What happened?” he asks, sounding suspicious.

“Why would you think something happened?” I give him an innocent smile.

He grins. “Because you’ve got that look, the one that means you’re plotting something … interesting. And possibly illegal.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say airily, looping my arm through his. “Come on, you can give your bags to the bellhop. We’re going to be late for the mixer!”

16

IVY

The drinks mixerturns into three hours of catching up with old classmates, before we hurry back to the hotel to change for the big dinner. “Sorry if that got boring for you,” I apologize to Reeve, as we take the ancient elevator up to the sixth floor.

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