by Liz Bower
“I have a room in the hotel if you want somewhere with a little more comfort.” He glanced back at me again. “Totally above board offer. Just somewhere to sleep. I’ll even let you take the bed,” he added as his lips quirked up.
“How do you have a hotel room?” I didn’t care how he had a room. Just wanted to avoid answering his question for the moment. Because it was tempting. Oh, so tempting. And not only for the prospect of a bed for the night instead of a row of hard chairs surrounded by the noise of the airport and other passengers.
“I booked it online on the off chance that there wouldn’t be another flight tonight as soon as I got off the plane.”
Smart man. The idea had never crossed my mind. His searching eyes met mine, and I knew he was waiting for an answer. Instead, I pointed to a black suitcase with a pink strap around it. “That’s my suitcase.”
I stepped forward but Beck lifted it off the belt like it was empty and deposited it at my feet. He turned back to the belt as I raised the handle then slid it back into place over and over. What should I do? Spend the night sharing a hotel room with an almost stranger—admittedly one I was attracted to—who was kind of caring and generous, if not a little secretive. Could he be trusted? More to the point, could I?
But I could already hear my credit card groaning at having to pay for my own room. I’d almost maxed it out for the plane ticket. Even if I could claim it back, I wasn’t sure I could afford to pay for it in the first place. And—as much as I hated to admit it—the idea of not being alone for the night was tempting. The almost crash, the uncertainty of what waited for me if I ever got to Malta, the prospect of getting on a plane again in a few hours’ time…
Beck dragged a small, grey, hard-shelled case off the belt and looked at me expectantly. I gave him a little nod. Sod it. I always did what I thought I should do. The right thing. For once, I was going to do what I wanted to do. Even if it made no sense. I didn’t know much about Beck, but he’d been nothing but kind to me. Protective even.
And I didn’t want to spend the following few hours worrying about being on a plane again. It wasn’t as though I was expecting anything to happen. But if I got to spend that time being distracted by the sight of Beck’s sculpted arms and jean-clad arse…well, it was better than the alternative.
“Okay then. Let’s go.”
I followed Beck back into the main airport area and outside. Across the car park bathed in an orange glow from the street lamps. Through the revolving doors into the brightly lit hotel reception where he stopped at the checkin desk and graced the receptionist with a dimpled smile. The one that probably got him whatever he wanted and made my stomach clench. Among other things.
What was I doing? What was Beck doing? I was sure he could sweet talk any woman he wanted into sharing his room for the night. Probably wouldn’t need the sweet talk. Hell, they’d fall over themselves to share less than his room. So why was he trying to convince me just to share his room?
Beck bent his knees to get a look at the name badge pinned to the receptionist’s chest.
“Hi, Wendy. I have a room booked but my…friend.” He waved in my general direction and I gave the receptionist a smile. Friend? Wendy threw me a sceptical look that said she didn’t believe we were friends either.
“I’m sorry sir, but we’re fully booked. A flight was cancelled, and we don’t have enough rooms to accommodate everyone. I can give you the phone numbers for the hotels nearby. They may have some availability still.”
Beck kept right on smiling at her. “Thank you, but it’s fine. The room is booked in my name, but I was hoping you could add my friend’s name to the booking.”
Wendy glanced between us and I offered her a shrug. I had no idea what Beck was up to.
“Of course. I’ll just need to see some ID and the room number.”
Rummaging through my handbag until I found my passport, I slid it across the desk towards her. When I heard the sound of fingers tapping on keys I turned to Beck. “What are you doing?” I whispered.
He took a step back from the desk, pulling me along with him. “You didn’t look entirely sure about sharing a room. This way, it’s not difficult to trace where you’ll be spending the next few hours. I thought it might put your mind at rest. If I was up to no good, I wouldn’t make it easy for the police to find you, would I? And you should text someone. Let them know where you’re staying and who with.”
I stared at him, not sure if I should be reassured or more worried. What kind of person came up with a plan like that? I twisted my lips from side to side, trying to find a response. “Maybe you’re just trying to lull me into a false sense of security.”
I wasn’t sure what Beck’s response would be, but I didn’t expect him to laugh. A deep rumble of a laugh that made my toes curl. My question from earlier came back to me. “Are you a paratrooper?” His answer played in a loop as he grinned at me. Or something. Or something. Holy fondant icing. What if he was a criminal?
“It’s entirely up to you, Kimberly. You don’t have to share, but you can trust me. I swear.”
My gaze wandered over his face. The serious look back in place again. Deep, rich brown eyes that held mine easily. Half smile on his lips. He looked totally relaxed. As though he didn’t care either way. And he was trying to do me a favour at the same time as making me comfortable. His face wasn’t hard to read and I found myself wanting to trust him. Even though that made no sense because I didn’t know enough about him to trust him. I did know he’d done nothing to give me a reason not to.
But I’d trusted my mum and she’d kept a huge fucking secret from me. I knew—or at least hoped—she’d concealed it from me for a good reason. To protect me, hopefully. Except I was twenty-seven, not seven. I could handle whatever the reality might have been.
But she’d left me with a future where I would never know why she had kept it from me. If my biological dad hadn’t wanted me, I could have dealt with that. Yes, it would’ve hurt, but at least I’d have known. Instead, I was left with endless questions. Did my biological dad even know I existed? Did Vinnie know he was my stepdad? Had my brother known all along, even though he said he didn’t have a clue?
So yeah, trust wasn’t high up on my to-do list right then. But it was a goddamned room Beck was offering. And I was way overthinking it. My gaze slid across towards the airport building. Imagined those rows of hard plastic chairs. Annoyed with myself for being so indecisive, I glanced back at Beck. He held my passport out to me, his other hand wrapped around the handle of his suitcase.
It was just a room. Not even for a full night. We were in a hotel on the outskirts of Leeds. There would be a phone in the room. I had my mobile. What was the worst that could happen?
It wasn’t like he was pushing for me to stay. He was being a gentleman. And I was being stupid. I took my passport and shoved it back into my handbag.
Giving him a smile as I lifted my head I said, “Lead the way.”
Chapter Five
The light flashed green and Beck slipped the key card out of the lock, ushering me into the room. It was tiny and dominated by a double bed. The only bed.
I wheeled my suitcase across the room, casting a quick glance towards the bed as I brushed past it. Under the window, there was a small leather chair that had been mostly hidden from the doorway. Oh, but it looked inviting. Two fluffy pillows stacked against the pale wooden headboard. A simple white duvet with a blue-and-grey striped runner wrapped around the bottom.
“I’ll take the chair.”
No way was I taking Beck’s bed; he had paid for the room, so it was his. I turned to tell him that and my leg hit the corner of the desk. Shit. I rubbed a hand down my thigh, which put my head level with Beck’s stomach as I bent over slightly. The hotel was a general budget one, so I hadn’t been expecting it to be the Ritz, but God, it was small. Stuck between the desk and the bed, there was no avoiding Beck. The scent of his spicy cologne wrapped around me…and something else. Something I was beginn
ing to realise was pure Beck.
He grinned at me before lounging back on the mattress. Arms stretched out behind him to prop himself up on his hands, biceps popping out beneath the short sleeves. The position stretched his T-shirt tight across his chest and wasn’t helping my coordination in the slightest.
Looking anywhere but at his chest, I took in the grey-and-blue striped curtains, the blue carpet. Crossed over to the window, pulling the net curtain aside to a view of the hotel car park. I let it fall back into place across the window and leaned my bum against the windowsill. “I’m not taking your bed. You’ve already let me crash here. I’m not going to let you give up your bed too. I’ll be fine in the chair for a couple of hours’ rest.”
Beck snorted as he pushed himself up off the bed. “Not happening, Kimberly. I’ve slept in worse places than a chair. The bed’s yours. Now, do you want to use the bathroom first, or can I get a shower?”
I wondered what kind of awful places he had slept in and why. If he was a criminal, I didn’t think he was a very good one. Nothing about him screamed money. Or danger. Maybe he was in the army. The flying, high-risk situations, sleeping in crappy places. Wondering was pointless because I didn’t think Beck was going to share that information. And we’d both be leaving in a couple of hours, never to see each other again.
Pushing off the wall, I walked over and stopped a few inches in front of him. “No, you can go first. I’m good. But I mean it, thank you for letting me stay here.” Stretching up onto my tiptoes to reach his cheek, I brushed my lips against his stubbled skin. The soft hairs tickled my lips, and they still tingled after I pulled away.
As I dropped back down onto my feet, his eyes widened and I gave him a self-conscious smile. Had I gone too far? But then he lifted a hand and traced a thumb across my cheek. The urge to lick his thumb was overwhelming, so I trapped the tip of my tongue between my teeth. He leaned in as he traced along my jaw and I held my breath. He was going to kiss me. My stomach clenched in anticipation as he dropped his hand but then took a step backwards, putting space between us. Of course he wasn’t going to kiss me. His gaze bored into mine and I broke eye contact. Fool.
The zip of his case was loud in the otherwise quiet room.
“I won’t be long, then the bathroom’s all yours.”
At the click of the bathroom door closing, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. Way to make things awkward, Kimberly. I sank onto the edge of the bed. His suitcase was laid open on the floor. Half empty. A couple of T-shirts poked out of the top and a button-down shirt. The man travelled light.
When the shower started, I opened my own suitcase to find my toiletry bag and a change of clothes. The shower was still running as I zipped my suitcase back up and sat on the edge of the bed. My gaze strayed to the closed bathroom door. I imagined Beck under the spray of water. Droplets of liquid running down his bare, muscled chest. Snaking their way down the raised ridges of his stomach and lower. I swallowed at the thought of all that tanned, wet skin, and jumped off the bed.
Did I want Beck’s first sight as he left the bathroom to be me drooling at the thought of him taking a shower? Get a grip, woman. Pulling the net curtain aside so I could stare out of the window again, I let out a soft sigh. What I really wanted to do was curl up and forget about everything. Suddenly, the day’s events caught up with me. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass. A wave of weariness washed over me as though even standing was too much effort. The anxious hours at home before setting off to the airport—as usual, I had been ready far too early, which had left me with too much time to worry about what I was doing. The waiting around in the airport. Then when I was on the plane thinking I was going to die. And finally, that in a few hours, I’d have to get back on a plane again.
“Bathroom’s all yours.”
I jumped at Beck’s words. “Thanks, a—” I said as I turned away from the window. The rest of the words died on my tongue at the sight of Beck, still damp from the shower, with only a white towel wrapped low around his waist. Hip bones jutting out. A trail of dark hairs led from the towel up to his belly button. The faint outline of his abs below the hard ridge of his pecs that flexed as he adjusted the towel.
A tattoo covered his heart in the shape of an infinity symbol with what looked like a date beneath it, but it was hard to tell from a distance. I licked my suddenly dry lips. Only when he pulled a T-shirt over his head did my feet finally move. Grabbing my toiletry bag from the bed on my way, I headed for the bathroom. With a final glance in Beck’s direction, I closed the door and slumped back against it. Jesus. Pull yourself together. It wasn’t like he was the first man I’d seen wearing only a towel. Maybe the first I’d seen that looked that good wearing only a towel.
When my heart finally slowed to a normal pace and my mind stopped racing, I pushed myself off the door. Switched on the shower and grabbed my shower gel from the bag. A quick glance in the mirror had me wincing at my reflection. Hair in disarray, I tied it back up into a ponytail and out of the way of the spray. There wasn’t much I could do about the dark smudges under my eyes, though.
I shed my clothes and stepped under the warm flow of water. Let out a sigh as it washed away what had been a long-ass day. I lingered under the spray until the last soap bubble disappeared—longer than normal. Sure, it was more to avoid seeing the temptation that was Beck again than about anything else. When the water began to cool and my skin started to wrinkle, I finally climbed out.
In hindsight, I should have brought my change of clothes with me into the bathroom. The towel I wrapped around me barely hit mid-thigh and was only just big enough to stay fastened around my chest. Dithering until I annoyed myself, I yanked open the bathroom door. It covered me, and I was sure Beck had seen women dressed in much less. But my worrying had been a waste of time. Beck was sprawled out on the bed on top of the covers, lips parted slightly. He looked less serious asleep—younger. The T-shirt he’d put on had ridden up to reveal his abs, and I licked my lips at the thought of tracing those soft lines with my tongue.
A pair of grey slacks hugged his hips and left little to the imagination. Feet bare. My teeth sank into my bottom lip at the sight of him. Goosebumps spread down my arms as the cooler air of the room penetrated my daze. He mumbled something, and I hurried over to where I’d set my pyjamas out, suddenly aware I still wore only a towel.
I shimmied into them whilst clutching the ends of it around me. Once done, I hung the damp towel over the radiator and glanced between the chair and the bed. Spending the next couple of hours scrunched up in the small chair wasn’t appealing. Curling up under the duvet next to Beck, on the other hand, was. Before I could overthink and talk myself out of it, I lifted the cover and slid underneath. Beck didn’t even stir.
I lay on my side facing him and took the opportunity to study him unobserved. With his eyes closed, I noticed how long his dark eyelashes were as they fanned out across his cheek. Long nose that had a bump just below his eyebrows, I wondered if he’d broken it at some point. Full lips the colour of the red icing I used to make love hearts for the occasional wedding cake order. But they weren’t smooth like the icing. Little cracks lined them vertically, but they looked just as soft and sweet as the icing. His chin was covered with dark stubble and my fingers itched to touch its softness again. He rolled over to face me, his deep brown eyes half-open.
“Hey.”
I smiled because he was cute when he was half-awake. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Nah. Just resting my eyes.” He didn’t say anything more, just stared intently at me. I shyly dropped my gaze from his, which meant it landed on his half-bare chest where the T-shirt had twisted up around his side as he’d rolled over.
“Will your parents be worried when you don’t show up in Malta?” I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at my own question. He was a grown man. And had probably told them the flight had been rescheduled. Wow. Who knew the sight of his nipple would have me spouting any old crap that entered my hea
d? Seriously, get a grip, Kimberly.
“I phoned them earlier to let them know what happened. What about you? Anybody you need to contact in Malta to let them know what’s happening?”
I shook my head. “Nobody knows I’m going to Malta.” Beck sat up at my confession, T-shirt falling back into place and covering up all that bare skin. Good, maybe I’d stop telling him things best left unsaid.
“What? Nobody at all? Why not?”
“Well, my brother knows I’m going but not my flight details. He didn’t want me to go. Thinks I’m wasting my time on a wild goose chase.”
Beck leaned back against the pillows, hands clasped behind his head, pulling the T-shirt tight across his chest and up to reveal a strip of skin above the low-slung waistband of his slacks.
“Chasing what?”
“Huh?”
“Your brother thinks you’re on a wild goose chase.”
Lifting my gaze to his, my brain tuned back into the conversation. “Oh, yeah. I er, found my birth certificate. And Vinnie—who I’d ways believed to be my dad—wasn’t named on it.”
Beck let out a gasp at that revelation. He dropped one of his hands from behind his head and grabbed hold of mine.
“So I managed to track down the man named as my father on the birth certificate to Malta. And against my brother’s advice, here I am. Flying out to Malta to hopefully find my biological dad.”
“That must have been an awful way to find something like that out. What did your parents say about it?”
At his question, I closed my eyes against the sting behind them. I couldn’t tell him about my parents. Couldn’t believe how much I’d already shared with him. That was so unlike me. Even my brother had to drag information out of me most of the time.
“We…we haven’t discussed it.”
He dropped his other arm from behind his head and wrapped it around me. Pulled me tightly against his chest and dropped a kiss on the top of my head.
