Power Play

by Warren, Nancy

  “You don’t believe in marriage?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. It’s not perfect, but I think marriage is a fundamental part of a functioning society. It’s just not for me. Truth is, I like women too much to imagine tying myself down to one for the rest of my life.”

  “Maybe you haven’t met the right person,” she said on a yawn.

  “Do you really believe that? Do you think there’s only one right person for everyone?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, trying to answer a question she’d thought a lot about over the years. “I don’t think I’ve ever really been in love, so maybe I keep thinking that someday I will and then the whole marriage and family thing will suddenly make sense. Although the older I get the less certain I am.” She shrugged, even though he couldn’t see the gesture. “I know I want children, so maybe someday I’ll realize the big love of my life doesn’t exist and I’ll settle for a nice guy who’ll be there for me and hopefully be a good father to our kids.” She sighed. “But I’m not ready to give up on the idea of love yet.”

  THE SHRILL RINGING OF the telephone woke Emily from a complicated dream concerning bullets, waterfalls and drummers. With a groan, she realized the rain was still pounding down, the shower was going full blast and it was eight-thirty. She and Jonah had talked far into the night. The last time she remembered looking at the clock it had been after four. Apart from wedding stories they’d talked about their jobs, and for a long time about books and movies.

  Their tastes weren’t identical. He liked more bloodthirsty fiction than she did, and she was more a chick flick kind of girl, but they also had a lot of tastes in common. Especially English mysteries. They’d argued the rival merits of Poirot, Lord Peter Wimsey and Inspector Dalgliesh until she stopped noticing the rain and finally fell asleep. In midsentence as far as she knew for she couldn’t remember the conversation ending.

  “Hello?” she said into the phone.

  “Good morning, darling.”

  “Morning, Mom.”

  “Just wondering if you need any help with the place cards?”

  Perfect timing. “No. They’re all done.”

  “You’re such a marvel. Your aunt and uncle are so grateful for all you’ve done and you know how proud I am of you.”

  “That’s good. I really don’t mind.” She thought about her conversation with Jonah last night and how she really did mind, but what was she supposed to say?

  “There’s something so exciting about a wedding, isn’t there? All these last-minute things to do. I’m taking notes, you know. For when it’s your turn. See you in a bit.”

  “Mom, I’m not—” But she was too late. Her mother was gone.

  She put the receiver back in the cradle and slowly got out of bed. At that moment the bathroom door opened and emerging in a cloud of steam, like a superhero, was Jonah.

  He looked wide-awake and disgustingly cheerful.

  “You fell asleep on me last night” were his first words.

  “I’m sure you’re used to it.” She snapped out the words before thinking. She was mad at herself, her mother, her aunt, Leanne for choosing that damned pumpkin of a dress, which was no reason to snarl at Jonah.

  He didn’t seem bothered by her snarky remark. Instead he looked at her as though he wanted to take her up on her unspoken challenge. “Oh, you think so.” He stalked slowly her way, in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, stray drops of water sparkling in his chest pelt. His hair was slicked back and clung wetly to his scalp.

  The temperature in the room immediately rose and she wondered what she was thinking, baiting a wolf, if she didn’t want to be bitten. Truth was she’d said the first flip thing that came to mind, not the smartest thing to do.

  He seemed in no hurry to reach her, so her pulse had lots of time to speed while he stalked closer. There was an amused glint in his eyes, and something else. Something she didn’t entirely trust that made her want to take a step back.

  She didn’t, though. As he came closer, she found herself searching for the bullet wound he’d told her about last night. It wasn’t that difficult to spot. A jagged scar that puckered the flesh of his left bicep. She wanted to raise her hand and trace her finger over the old wound, an intimacy that shocked her even as the idea of touching him excited her. It seemed in their night together of talking they’d sped through the kind of get-to-know-you conversation that could take weeks if they’d been dating. Her gaze dropped to the towel knotted around his hard belly. She imagined him taking the towel off, looping it around her neck and pulling her forward. Her gaze shot up to meet his and the way he was looking at her made her wonder if he’d read her mind.

  A knock sounded on the door. A reprieve, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be reprieved.

  Jonah veered away from her to answer the door. She could hear a male voice she didn’t recognize in the corridor and then Jonah turned to her, still holding the door open, and said, “Okay with you if a sniffer dog comes through?”

  “Sniffer dog? You mean there are drugs in this hotel?” What more could go wrong?

  He grinned at her. “Bedbug sniffing dogs. The guy says it will only take five minutes.”

  She threw up her hands. “Why not?” She was still in her pajamas, so she grabbed a hotel robe and threw it on.

  A middle-aged man in a uniform sort of like a security guard’s brought an energetic beagle trotting in on a leash.

  The dog’s tail was wagging and his ears were fully alert.

  “Okay, Beezer. Go!” the handler said, unhooking the leash, and Beezer was off, sniffing all around both beds. The handler glanced at them oddly and only then did she realize it must seem strange to see two people in a hotel room, one wearing pajamas and the other wearing a towel, who obviously weren’t sharing a bed.

  She concentrated on watching Beezer. At one point he stuck his nose right between the box spring and mattress, but soon pulled it back out and kept going. He was systematic about his search, she noted, going from bed to bed, then starting on the walls and baseboards.

  “How do you know if he finds bedbugs?” She could barely say the word without a shudder.

  “Oh, you’ll know. He’ll wag his tail and bark. Sometimes he paws at the spot.”

  “How accurate are they?” Jonah wanted to know. Already the dog had moved to sniffing the baseboards in the room. He huffed and snorted his way along. He sounded like a small, powerful vacuum cleaner.

  “We claim ninety-eight percent accuracy. But some studies show a hundred percent effectiveness. Dogs like Beezer have an incredible sense of smell.”

  “Is there enough work to keep you busy?”

  The guy grinned at her. “I can’t keep up. Ever since DDT got banned, bedbugs are on the rise. It’s getting to be a real problem. Nice hotels, dumps, fancy apartment houses, doesn’t matter. Bedbugs travel on clothes, suitcases, whatever they can grab on to, and they can live a long time without food. You think of a busy traveler, who might stay at four, five hotels in a week and not realize he’s carrying bedbugs until he gets home. Now you’ve got five hotels with a problem. Plus the guy’s got them in his house. Then everyone who stays in every one of those hotels before the problem is caught and fixed? And they go back home or on to another hotel? You do the math.”

  “You’ve put me off ever staying in a hotel again,” Emily said, feeling her skin crawl.

  Beezer stopped at the curtain and looked back at his master, who asked, “What’s behind there?”

  “A leaky roof.”

  “You mind?”

  “No.”

  The man in uniform walked over and held the curtain back. Beezer ran in, nose to the floor.

  The guy shook his head at her. “With dogs like Beezer, we can catch problems early and get them fixed right away. My advice is any time you go to a hotel pull back the covers and check the sheets. Same thing before you get into any strange bed.”

  Beezer trotted out from behind the curtain, zoomed his n
ose along the remaining baseboards and then the handler opened the closet door. Beezer snuffled his way around, stopping when he got to her bridesmaid dress. He raised his head and looked out at his master, a tent of orange chiffon covering his snout. He returned his attention to the dress as though he was thinking about lifting his leg to it. She couldn’t blame him. From his perspective it probably looked like the world’s biggest fire hydrant. However, he contained himself, resumed his journey and finished the room. He trotted to the door, his tail wagging, though she thought he looked a little disappointed.

  “Good news. Your room’s clean.”

  “What happens if he finds them?”

  “He gets a treat. A no bedbug day for Beezer is a bad day.”

  She laughed, realizing that a good day for room residents was a bad day for the bug sniffing dog. “Can I pat him?”

  “Sure, now he’s finished working.”

  She walked over and squatted down, giving the small body a rub. “Good dog, Beezer. Thanks for the peace of mind.”

  He gave her chin a swift lick, but it was obvious that he wanted to get on with his workday. With a cheery goodbye, the guy in uniform and his dog left them.

  “Well,” she said when they’d left, “that was different.”

  “I’d heard about those dogs. Never seen them at work, though.”

  “Nice to know we’re pest free. It’s about the only good thing you can say about this room.”

  “Doesn’t sound so bad now. I think the rain’s tapered off. I’m heading out in a minute if you want to try to get some more sleep.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ve got to go, too, I’ve got to…” She stopped herself in time. “I’ve got some shopping to do.”

  Jonah glanced down at her as though he knew she was heading off on an errand, but he didn’t call her on it.

  She headed into the shower, which would give him privacy to dress.

  “Have a good one,” he called a few minutes later.

  “You, too.”

  Before leaving the bathroom, she tidied her cosmetics into her bag. She’d assumed he’d be the messier of the two of them but she’d discovered he kept his few personal items regimented, always in the same corner of the bathroom counter meticulously lined up in the same order. Razor, shaving foam, deodorant, toothpaste (with cap screwed on all the way), toothbrush, floss.

  She wasn’t a slob by any means, but his neatness quirk intrigued her. She started to leave the bathroom then turned back. What she was about to do was so cliché, so girly she couldn’t believe it. Nor could she stop herself. She picked up his razor, dragged it down her cheek, liking the scraping, knowing the same blade had carved through the stubble on Jonah’s face. She replaced it exactly, then lifted the lid on his shaving foam and sniffed, recognizing one part of the scent she associated with him. She did the same with his deodorant, then shook her head at herself. What was she doing? Developing a hot and heavy crush on a guy she barely knew?

  What if Beezer and co hadn’t knocked on the door when they had?

  She recalled the intimacy of that moment when Jonah had walked toward her in nothing but a towel; in retrospect she realized her remark about being used to women falling asleep on him had been a sort of come-on. It had certainly roused him to stalk across the room to her, male ego and testosterone mixing with full throttle desire. Her blood warmed in memory. Jonah might be completely different from her usual taste in men, but there was no denying his animal magnetism. Or that it was drawing her.

  If ever there were two people fated to fall in bed with each other, it was her and Jonah. Between the bedbugs, the confused hotel staff and her nosy family, she was sharing a room with a man she didn’t know who’d become her boyfriend within twenty-four hours of her setting eyes on him.

  Even the weather had conspired, the driving rain keeping them awake and giving them all those intimate hours of the night to talk about everything and nothing the way lovers do.

  The only thing they hadn’t yet done that lovers do was any of the actual loving.

  Maybe, she thought, as she slicked out a piece of Jonah’s dental floss to use on her own teeth, maybe she should think about changing that.

  She glanced out the window. The rain had slackened to a drizzle but she was probably the only person in Elk Crossing who was hoping for another storm. Because she was almost positive that neither of them could make it through another rain-drumming night without making a move.

  She was enjoying her fantasy of making love with Jonah as she rummaged through her few clothes trying to pull off yet another fashion miracle when a soft knock came on the door.

  When she opened up she gave a cry of delight. “My clothes!”

  She opened her arms to the stuffed dry-cleaning bag hanging from the chambermaid’s hand as if it was an old and dearly beloved friend. “I am so happy to see you,” she crooned as she took the bag straight to the closet to hang.

  The young woman carried a hamper perched on her hip, and Emily recognized her laundered clothes.

  “It’s not everything,” the maid warned her, “but most of your stuff is back.”

  “This is fantastic.” She beamed at the young woman, then went to her purse for her wallet. “Thank you so much.”

  “I’ve got more good news,” the woman said, accepting the generous tip with a big grin. “We’ve got a couple of free rooms now. We can move your things today if you want.”

  Emily’s sunny smile faded. “Oh.”

  She looked at the young woman and suddenly wished she’d never opened the door. What if she didn’t know there was a room available? Then she could spend another night with Jonah. Because now that she had a chance to ditch her unwanted roomie, she found she didn’t want to. She wanted the night she’d been dreaming about since sometime after midnight when she realized that he was the most exciting man she’d met in a long time.

  The maid was looking at her as though trying to figure out what was bothering her. “If it’s the bugs, we had the sniffer dog through today. The problem was contained to that one room. The exterminator’s been in and of course we won’t be renting that one again until we get the all clear. You can trust those dogs, you know. The process is very accurate.”

  “Only ninety-eight percent accurate,” she said primly, thankful for any excuse to put off moving. “I know this room is fine because you never rent it.”

  “But—”

  “Look, I’m kind of in a hurry right now. I’ll let you know if I need the room, okay?”

  “Sure, but—”

  She didn’t wait for more; with a friendly smile she closed the door.

  Then she looked at the curtain behind which faded plopping sounds could still be heard, and the two rumpled beds. What was she thinking?

  7

  “I THOUGHT WE WERE GETTING burgers,” Sadhu Ranjit said as Jonah headed his truck toward Elk Lodge.

  “We are, but I need to grab an extra stick from my hotel first.”

  They pulled into Elk Lodge’s parking lot. “Want to come up?”

  “Nah. I’ll hang out here and see if I can pick up chicks. I’ll woo them with my exotic dark good looks.”

  Sadhu had more than his fair share of those. He looked like a Bollywood star with his big, brown, thick-lashed eyes and teeth whiter than any shark’s. It always amazed Jonah that somebody so pretty was such a formidable ice hockey player. “Just don’t do that fake East Indian accent. It embarrasses me.” Sadhu had been born in Vancouver and Jonah knew he hadn’t been within a thousand miles of the Punjab. But he had the accent down pat and used it shamelessly when it suited him.

  Naturally, Sadhu now turned on the voice of his father and uncles as though he’d flipped a switch. “I cannot help it if you do not arrive in time to stop me from meeting beautiful ladies using the voice of my people,” he said.

  “If you’re not here when I come down, I’m leaving,” Jonah warned, knowing from experience that Sadhu was probably capable of picking up a woman in a hotel park
ing lot given five minutes. Fortunately, the lot wasn’t exactly swarming with attractive women, but Jonah wasn’t going to push his luck.

  His teammate laughed, flashing his big white teeth. “If I’m not here when you come down, I definitely don’t want you coming looking for me.”

  “Don’t forget we’ve got a game in two hours.” Jonah jogged into the hotel and headed for his room. On the way, he all but bumped into a chambermaid with a stack of towels in her arms.

  “How’s it going?” he asked as he prepared to pass her.

  “Great. You’re in 318, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Your clothes came back from the laundry this morning. I put them in your room.”

  “Good news.” Not that he particularly cared except that he’d be glad to see his favorite jeans again. But he suspected his roommate would be weeping with joy at the return of her wardrobe.

  “Oh, and the manager told me to tell you both that there are some rooms available now if you want to move into your own space.”

  He halted in his tracks. Damn it, why had he returned to the hotel? He had a clean shirt and some toiletries in his hockey bag. He wouldn’t have been back before bedtime if Mitch hadn’t broken a stick this morning in practice.

  His metal car keys snicked together as he fiddled with the NHL keychain in his hand. “I see.”

  It should be great news. His own room—he could watch whatever he wanted on TV, without the smell of nail polish and other girlie products in his nose; he could come and go without worrying about another person; he wouldn’t have to check that he was all covered up when he came out of the shower, or time his stupid shower to fit in with a roommate he’d never asked for or wanted.

  But now that he had her he didn’t want to get rid of her. Last night had been more fun than he could have imagined a night with an attractive female that didn’t include hot sex could be. She was funny, warm, savvy about some things, clueless about others and he had developed some powerful fantasies that involved peeling off those ugly flannel pj’s.