Get Lucky

by Lorie O'Clare

  “Are you saying you’re interested in only the surface, but not what’s inside?”

  He definitely wanted to be inside her. “Your personal life is your business. I’m not trying to create some false image here. This is my vacation. I’m here for some much-needed downtime. I’d like to be with you while I’m here.”

  “I see.” She nodded once, as if trying to decide whether she would accept his terms or not.

  Marc didn’t see a problem in trying to convince her. Taking her jaw in one hand, he untangled their fingers and put his other hand on the side of her head. Her hair was like silk. When she tilted her head back, her gaze smoldered. But it was her lips, so soft and moist when he pressed his against hers, that tilted his world to the side.

  She opened for him, and the invitation hardened every inch of his body. Marc dragged his fingers through her hair and wrapped his arms around her. When he dipped inside her mouth, her tongue met his with hunger he hadn’t anticipated. A sense of vertigo attacked his system when he devoured her.

  Marc wasn’t sure what he’d expected out of their first kiss. He wasn’t a fool, nor a pompous ass. Sure, he’d imagined her in various positions, crying out his name. His fantasies were blurry, the details not ironed out. But he hadn’t expected her to taste so incredibly good. He wasn’t prepared for her to be as aggressive in kissing him, as if she’d waited for this moment all day.

  When he encouraged her to lean back and submit to him, soft strands of silky hair tickled his arms. Her slender body tucked against his. The way she molded against him and returned the kiss stole every thought from his brain. He’d never considered himself a master of seduction and doubted it was his skills that turned her into such a willing and eager partner. But they kissed as if they’d done it a million times, with none of the awkwardness or hesitation that so often accompanied that first kiss.

  Marc moved his mouth to her cheek and then began a trail down her neck. He gripped her waist, feeling her round, perky breasts pressing against his chest. If he didn’t get control of himself, he’d push his hands up her shirt and cup those soft, full mounds of flesh.

  It took more strength than he thought he had at the moment, but Marc straightened. He was rewarded by a beautiful flush in London’s cheeks and slightly swollen, parted lips. Her tongue darted over them at the same time she fluttered her lashes and slowly looked up at him. London wasn’t short, but she wasn’t the tallest woman he’d been with, either. It didn’t seem to bother her when she tilted her head and focused on him. He saw quiet confidence and extreme satisfaction. London didn’t do what she didn’t want to do, and he had a feeling she had few regrets.

  “I’m going to head home now,” she whispered, and cleared her voice.

  “You’re driving home in this shit?”

  London stepped out of his arms and tugged at her sweatshirt. Her nipples were hard underneath. “I’ve done it many times.” She offered him a small laugh. “You get accustomed to driving in snow when you live here.”

  “How far is your home from here?” He knew Aspen was a good twenty-minute drive. He’d done it earlier today, and that was when it wasn’t snowing or dark.

  London picked the plate off the coffee table and walked away from him. He caught up with her at the elevator. “Come to my room. You call the shots,” he promised. “But it’s not safe to drive home in this weather. I don’t care how many times you’ve done it.”

  London shook her head. “There is no way I’m staying the night here. I work here, remember?”

  “I can be very sneaky,” he offered, grinning.

  She grinned, too, and shoved her thick, smooth black hair behind her shoulder. “I’m not sure that is saying good things about you.”

  The elevator doors opened with a ding and an older couple stepped out, nodding and smiling at both of them. Marc stood to the side and placed his hand on London’s shoulder when he escorted her into the elevator after the couple walked around the corner.

  “That isn’t what I meant,” he said. “I didn’t mean for it to sound bad.”

  “Yeah, it did. Images of you climbing out of married women’s bedroom windows came to mind.” She was relaxed, a natural, when the conversation was light and easy.

  “I meant I wouldn’t do anything to compromise your job here. I’m not a coldhearted bastard.”

  “I’m sure you aren’t.” London reached forward and pushed the button for the main floor. “I risked coming up here with you.”

  “You would have gotten in trouble for sitting and eating with me?”

  “No,” she said slowly. “But if anyone saw me coming or going from your room I would never live it down. It’s not something I plan on ever making a habit of doing.”

  “Good.” He knew the rule. Three strikes and he was out. Marc wouldn’t push his luck and finished riding down with her in silence. At least he knew she didn’t make a habit of sleeping with any guest who appealed to her. For some reason, that made him want her more.

  Granted, having tasted her mouth, he was anxious to taste the rest of her. Marc followed her to the small room where he’d found her earlier on the phone. London picked up her coat and gloves where she’d left them on a table.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” he suggested.

  London shook her head slowly, making a face that showed her exasperation. “You aren’t wearing your coat. At this rate, you’ll end up nursing a fierce case of frostbite before you’ve been here a week.”

  That was his third strike and he hadn’t seen it coming. But she had him there. If he stood outside in this storm while she warmed up her car, he’d be shaking so furiously he wouldn’t be able to move his arms to give her a hug.

  “Mr. King?” Todd, the desk clerk, appeared in the doorway of the break room, his attention shifting from Marc to London. “I’m sorry. I mean Marc. I tried calling your room a couple times. The tow truck is here with your car. They are out in the parking lot right now.”

  “Thanks, man.” Marc offered him an easy smile, ignoring the question in the night clerk’s eyes. He backed out of the break room, waiting for Todd to reluctantly leave them alone and return to the lobby. “I need to run to my room and get my coat. Don’t leave before I can say good-bye.”

  *

  By morning, the snow had quit falling. Marc’s hair was still damp as he surveyed his car and determined there was no damage. Damn good streak of luck. Glancing across the parking lot to where London’s green Jeep was parked, he wondered if he’d be as lucky with her.

  He made a detour to the gift shop and picked up a pale pink silk rose and placed it in front of London on the counter. “So do you work here every day all day?” he asked, keeping his voice low and ignoring her wary look as she stared at the rose.

  “Eight to six, Monday through Friday,” she said, sliding the rose off the counter and tucking it neatly out of sight. “How’s your Mustang?” she asked when another guest approached the counter.

  London didn’t wait for his answer but helped the other guest. Another employee, a redhead with curls and a healthy glow that made her look as if she’d just come in from playing in the snow, walked behind the counter and smiled at him.

  “Have you been helped?” she asked.

  “Yes,” He returned her easy smile and leaned against the counter, taking in the busy lobby. It appeared a group was getting ready to head out to ski, the chatter about the fresh snowfall varying from excitement to others sounding nervous.

  “Here’s that package you told me to pick up for you,” the redhead told London. “It was leaning against your front door.”

  Marc shifted his attention to the women. London and the other woman moved to the far corner behind the counter, whispering between themselves as London accepted a small, flat package that looked as if it had been a rough ride reaching her house.

  “Aren’t you going to open it?” the woman asked.

  “Fine.” London sounded exasperated but grinned at her co-worker as she slid her finger
under the glued seal and opened the package. She slid several pieces of paper out and studied them.

  Marc swore all color drained from her face.

  Whatever reaction she had to the contents she concealed quickly as she slid everything back into the package. “I’ll be darned,” she said, offering that polite smile and laughter that didn’t reach her eyes. London wore a better mask than some of the hardened criminals he’d dealt with in the past. “It’s from my family. Thanks for saving it from the storm,” she said, patting her friend’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” she added, and headed down the hallway to the employees’ break room.

  If he made a show of following her, he would piss her off. London didn’t appear thrilled about whatever it was she got in the mail. Since she didn’t want her co-worker to know about it, he doubted it would be something London would share with him.

  He would make the best of his day, take advantage of the blue skies and forecast predicting no snow for the next twenty-four hours. The first thing he needed to do was take care of his cell phone. Leaving London to her job, he decided he would be in the lobby when she was ready to get off work.

  Marc let himself into his room to grab his broken phone, impressed Housekeeping had already been there and his bed was neatly made and fresh towels were piled in the bathroom. It was a really nice room, spacious, with room to entertain and work, depending on the guest’s agenda. A love seat similar to the one he’d sat on with London last night was in one corner, with an upright chair next to it and a small oval coffee table finishing off the intimate setting. On the other side of the room was a decent-sized desk, where he’d set up his laptop. The big-screen TV could be seen from anywhere in the room, and the king-sized bed wasn’t crowded into the room as that sized bed often was in hotel rooms. There was a Jacuzzi in the bathroom that he’d love to soak in with London. If she held on to her rule about not coming to his room that wouldn’t happen.

  Marc wondered if it would be worth the money to get a room in Aspen. They could spend the night there until she was comfortable enough to have him over to her house. She also didn’t mention working weekends. Maybe they could make a day of it. Oftentimes people who worked all day never took time to see the sights in their own town. He paused in the middle of the room when he realized the direction of his thoughts. He was laying out a plan to spend quality time with her, get to know her better; that wasn’t the deal. He’d be smart to keep the game plan focused around getting her naked. Good physical sex, fun times, and no one got hurt. Long days spent together walking and talking risked other emotions surfacing.

  As he lectured himself he took in the contents of his room. “Where’s my phone?” He stared at the freshly made bed, the clean, uncluttered nightstand. “I left it on my bed last night.”

  He remembered it clearly. Before going downstairs last night for his sandwich, he’d tossed the phone on his bed. Had it been there when he’d come upstairs last night and crashed? His thoughts had been full of London and it had been late. He’d entered his room, pulled back the covers, and stretched out with the remote until he’d fallen asleep. He would have noticed if his phone hadn’t been on his bed, though, wouldn’t he?

  Marc got down on his hands and knees, working his large frame to the floor until he could lift the blankets and peer underneath. The bed stood on a wooden base, which meant there was less than a foot of space under the bed before there was wood. He didn’t see his phone. Nonetheless, he moved to the other side of the bed and repeated the process. No phone.

  “Well, crap. They don’t just disappear.” He scowled at his desk, walked over to his laptop, fingered the neatly stacked brochures. Just for good measure, he went through his suitcase and then laptop case as well as his duffel bag. “Apparently this one disappears.”

  An unsettling feeling gripped his gut as he fisted his hands against his hips and stared again at the room, willing the phone to appear. There were numbers on that phone that could incriminate some people if they fell into the wrong hands. An expensive scrambler was installed in his cell phone. He couldn’t imagine it falling into the wrong hands out here in Aspen, Colorado. But at the same time, cell phones didn’t just vanish.

  In spite of water damage, someone with the right knowledge might be able to pull information off it. Marc didn’t consider himself paranoid, just cautious. Which was why he’d played in the snow last night until he found it. Now it was gone.

  After searching his room one more time, even taking time to look in places he knew it wouldn’t be, Marc sat at his desk and picked up the room phone.

  “Front desk,” London purred into the phone. “What can I do for you, Mr. King?”

  “You make it sound as if you’re talking to my father.”

  Her professional laugh had a nice sound to it and Marc smiled, in spite of the tension growing in his gut.

  “We’re supposed to address all guests formally,” she explained. “What’s up?”

  She didn’t sound worried he’d called to bother her while she was working, which spoke volumes. London figured him to be a man who respected boundaries. And he was.

  “My cell phone is missing,” he said without preamble. “Who cleaned my room?”

  “That’s not good. Hold on.” She didn’t put him on hold but hummed in his ear as she made him wait. “Sally cleaned your room. She finished thirty minutes ago. More than likely she is still on your floor. But Marc, she is bonded and has been here longer than I have. No one has ever complained about her,” London added, lowering her voice as she finished speaking. “Are you sure you left it in your room? Maybe it’s in your coat pocket.”

  “I’ll check.” He put the phone down, positive he hadn’t left his cell phone there but willing to check just to cover all bases. “Nope,” he said when he picked up the receiver and once again reclined in the chair and faced his laptop. “I left it on my bed before I came down last night for my sandwich and now it’s gone. I’ve torn this room apart, London. It’s not here.”

  “Why would someone take a broken phone?” London asked. “I’m really sorry. We have forms down here if you want to file a complaint,” she added.

  Something told him advertising that his phone was missing wasn’t a good idea. “No. It would have been easier to have my SIM card, but I can call my provider when I buy a new phone. What are you doing tonight?” he asked, changing the subject. The sooner he got into town and contacted his provider, rendering his broken phone useless, the better.

  “Working. The walking tour is tonight.”

  “Sign me up. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Okay. Sorry about your phone. I’ll talk to Sally.”

  “Don’t bother. It sounds like she’s got a solid reputation and I don’t want Housekeeping holding a grudge against me.”

  London laughed. “It would suck to sleep on dirty sheets.”

  “There’s promise in that comment,” he teased.

  This time London’s laughter sounded more sincere. “Try not to get stuck driving into town,” she scolded.

  “I know who to call if I do.”

  *

  London didn’t usually watch the clock while at work. She liked her job for the most part. It wasn’t the same thing every day, and with such a large resort there were always issues to handle with the many guests. And this time of year the place was almost full. She hurried down the third floor, staring at the small couch where she and Marc ate sandwiches the night before. If only Marc being part of the tour tonight was the only thought distracting her from work.

  After dropping towels off for one couple, then helping another guest get his laptop online, she tried not thinking about Marc as she headed to the service elevator. It made banging sounds and jerked a few times as she took it to the first floor, but London barely noticed. The contents of the package Meryl had brought to her this morning still had her stomach tied in knots.

  There was no return address. But after she saw the contents she understood why. They were pictures of her mom
and dad, but not the type of snapshots most family members sent to each other. London doubted her parents sent these pictures. Each shot was engraved in her brain, and they appeared like a slide show in her mind.

  One picture was of her mother, standing at a counter with a gun poised at a person facing her. She wore a scarf on her head, but London knew it was her mom. The picture looked like it had been taken from a security camera. The next shot, of London’s father, appeared to be taken in the same building. He was hurrying out the door with large bags under his arms. The concerned, focused look on his face was captured by the camera.

  There were a handful of other pictures, a couple of her parents driving in a car. One was of her mother lying out naked, sunbathing on a beach. There was even a shot of London’s father with another woman, someone she didn’t recognize. They weren’t touching each other but standing very close and appearing to be having a very private conversation.

  The pictures that had been sent to London were odd in themselves. But it was the note, typed and not signed, that terrified the crap out of her.

  Say good-bye to your mother and father. You’re never going to see them again.

  It had taken over an hour to quit shaking after reading the cryptic message, and even then London remained jumpy. The elevator dinged before the doors opened onto the first floor and London jolted out of her thoughts. She stepped out of the elevator, studying the group of people walking together ahead of her down the hall. They turned to head for the dining room and one couple glanced her way. It took a moment to return their smiles.

  “Get a grip,” London hissed to herself, speaking under her breath as she hurried down the hall.

  Most guests recognized her and smiled, since she’d checked a lot of them in. There were other employees who worked the front desk and it was hard to remember the faces of all their guests, but that didn’t mean they didn’t remember hers. People smiled at her all the time when she walked around the lodge. It was her job to be a friendly face and return the smile, not to suspect and worry about anyone who gave her a moment’s attention.