by Cassie Cole
“And how’d that work out for him?”
I laughed. “About as well as you’d expect. Genghis Khan accepted the crown as a gift, but he wanted their complete surrender, too. When the Georgian King refused, Genghis Khan sacked the city. It destabilized the Caucasus region for about fifty years.”
Roman nodded along with more than just polite interest. “Now, my history is rusty, so forgive me if this is a stupid comment, Dakota. But I don’t remember any Mongol visitations to New Mexico.”
“You don’t remember the Golden Horde’s conquest of Albuquerque and Santa Fe?” I teased. “Teddy Roosevelt fought them back to the Pacific.”
“Must have missed that day in history class.”
I gestured with my gin glass. “I got a tip from a friend of a friend. Claims there’s a man here who knows the location of the Khan Diadem.”
“He must be very old,” Roman said.
“You’re right, but for the wrong reason,” I said. “We’ll see what happens tomorrow. I doubt he knows anything.”
Roman raised his glass. “Best of luck to you.”
I clinked my glass to his. “And best of luck to your insurance claims.”
We smiled at each other for a long moment. A hair longer than any innocent moment deserved.
“Alright you two,” Bob finally said. “The missus just learned how to text last week, and she’s texting me to let me know if I’m not home in the next ten minutes she’s locking the front door. Hate to kick you out of my bar, but…” He spread his hands.
Roman looked genuinely disappointed. And to my surprise, I felt the same way. I usually avoided strangers in the bar, but he had a charm about him that made me want to stay and talk longer. I had a sneaking suspicion he was a lot more interesting under the surface than a normal insurance guy.
“If you hate to kick us out,” Roman said, reaching into his pocket, “how about I buy the rest of the bottle of gin?”
He tossed another $100 bill onto the bar.
Bob frowned like he was crazy. “There’s barely half the bottle left.”
“More than I need,” Roman said. “And this late at night? You have a temporary monopoly on supply.”
Bob chuckled and pulled the bottle off the shelf, placing it on the bar with a hard thud. “It’s all yours, friend.”
I regarded Roman. “Either insurance claims adjusters make a lot more money than I thought, or you’re flexing pretty hard.”
Roman ignored the comment, and hefted the bottle of gin in my direction. “It’s not often I get to pick the brain of a historical sociologist. I’d love to hear more about this Genghis crown or whatever.”
It was a pretext to go back to his hotel room. One that was so obvious and cheesy that it wrapped all the way around and came back to cute and charming. I didn’t want the night to end here. It’d been a while since I’d had a good, deep conversation with someone.
It’d been even longer since I’d had a night of fun with a stranger.
“If you’re too tired from traveling, though…” he added, giving me a polite out.
“I can sleep when I’m dead,” I found myself saying. “I’d love another drink.”
The hotel was across the street from the bar. Calling it a hotel was a stretch—it was really just a hall of rooms above an old post office. In fact, calling it a street was a stretch as well. It was paved, but barely wide enough for a single car. More like a large sidewalk designed for horseback riders.
“I’m assuming you’re staying here too?” I said as we walked up the stairs to the floor with the rooms.
Roman’s laugh might have been one of annoyance, but was tempered by the gin. “That’s part of the reason I needed this drink. The front desk was closed when I drove in, and the phone number is out of service.”
I turned to look at him at the top of the stairs. “What were you going to do? Sleep in your car?”
His grin was rueful. “My car is the motorcycle parked out front, so no. I was planning on sleeping in the chair in the lobby.”
I smiled as I turned the key in the door. “Good thing you found me.”
Good thing I’m taking you up to my hotel room, was the subtext.
The room was plain but adequate. A bed against one wall and a TV stand against another. On the far wall was a round table covered in my things—laptop, a stack of documents, and a map of Asia wedged between two protective pieces of plastic.
I let the door close behind us and flipped the lights on. I stood in the middle of the room and let my hair down, and shook it out. It felt like an overly suggestive gesture—like something out of a stupid shampoo commercial—but then again, this was a night full of overly suggestive gestures.
Roman placed the bottle of alcohol on the TV stand, then flipped one of the lights off so that the room was a romantic shade of dark. He took me in his arms and stared deeply into my eyes.
“I thought you were inviting me up here for another drink,” I purred.
His voice was a low rumble. “That’s not what I really want.”
I jerked my head at the queen-sized mattress. “Right. You’re here for the bed.”
“You’re half right.” He kissed me slowly, like we were two lovers reconnecting after a long time apart. “What I had in mind involves the bed.”
“Teaching me to fold hospital corners?”
He kissed me again, deeper this time. “Getting warmer.”
I touched the front of his pants lightly. “That’s not the only thing getting warmer.”
His thick fingers slid along my backside before grabbing a handful of my flesh. “I’ll say.”
I yelped as he lifted me off the ground and into his arms. He shoved his tongue in my mouth as we kissed, and I imagined it licking other parts of my body. I felt myself getting wet as he held me in the air with easy strength, content with just kissing me.
Then he carried me to the bed and dropped me like a sack of potatoes. I bounced and gazed up at him as he slowly removed his bomber jacket, then unbuttoned the shirt underneath. His tanned chest had a smattering of dark hair. He had wonderful V-lines at the top of his pelvis, which disappeared down into his jeans. He was a tapestry of muscle, which stood out vibrantly in the half-light of the room.
“All joking aside, how do I know you’re not just using me for my bed?” I pushed up onto my elbows. “Are you really interested in me, or would you be seducing an octogenarian if it meant a mattress to sleep on?”
He rumbled with laughter, like thunder sounding over a distant hill. “I’d sleep on the cold ground outside if it meant sharing your body’s warmth.”
Roman planted his chiseled arms on either side of me and lowered his lips to mine.
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Sealed With a Kiss!
Cassie Cole is a Reverse Harem Romance writer living in Fort Worth, Texas. A sappy lover at heart, she thinks romance is best with a kick-butt plot!
Books by Cassie Cole
Broken In
Drilled
Five Alarm Christmas
All In
Triple Team
Shared by her Bodyguards
Saved by the SEALs
Forbidden Crush
The Proposition
Full Contact
Sealed With A Kiss
Smolder
The Naughty List
Christmas Package
Trained At The Gym
Undercover Action
