Sweet for You: A BBW Billionaire Romance
Page 8
“What are you implying?” Carrie asked.
“Nothing improper! All I’m saying is that, if you bat those big blue eyes in his direction and maybe let a few of those tears fall down your cheeks, you might not have to sleep in a crowded airport tonight.”
Carrie took a moment to consider her lack of options. “As the saying goes,” she said, “desperate times call for desperate measures. I guess it’s worth a try. Do you happen to know where I might find this man?”
“Of course. His cell phone battery was dead so I called his car service for him. He’s waiting to be picked up over there.” The concierge pointed in the direction of passenger pickup.
“How will I know who he is?”
“That’s easy,” Darla said. “He’s tall with dark hair and movie star good looks. Oh, and he’s wearing blue jeans, a red plaid shirt and cowboy boots. You’d better hurry, though. His driver will be here soon.”
Carrie’s heart skipped a beat at the young woman’s description of the man she needed to find. Then she reached across the counter and gave Darla’s hand a quick squeeze. “Thank you!” With her mission in mind, she pushed through the crowd toward the passenger pickup zone.
When she got close to the automatic doors, a blast of frigid air caused Carrie to pause. If she wasn’t determined to find the stranger, she might have stepped back inside. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to spot him; he stood taller than everyone else huddling in the cold.
Carrie watched him for a moment before approaching from behind. Even though the temperature outside was below freezing and the wind-chill was brutal, his stance was relaxed and confident, almost as if he was immune to the frigid air swirling around him. She pulled her thin jacket tighter around her body.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Excuse me!”
The stranger turned around. “Well hello there, darlin’.” His voice was low and deep, and laced with a slight southern drawl. In a less stressful situation, Carrie would have found the voice to be incredibly sexy.
“Hello,” she replied, trying not to stare at the handsome face with a strong jaw and a hint of five o’clock shadow. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I was wondering if you might be able to help me.”
“I’m always willing to help a lady in distress, especially one that looks as pretty as you.”
Carrie was flustered by the stranger’s lazy smile and warm, brown eyes, which seemed to bore straight through to her core. “Yes, well, thank you. My flight was cancelled, you see, and . . .”
“Don’t be shy, darlin’. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I need a room for the night and the city is sold out,” Carrie finally blurted out. “I heard that you might have an extra bed in your hotel room. Under normal circumstances I would never proposition a complete stranger like this, but these aren’t normal circumstances, you see, and I haven’t slept in a very long time, my luggage is lost and I’m desperate for a hot shower.” The tears that Carrie had been holding back finally escaped, choking her voice and ending her rambling explanation.
“There now, there’s no need to cry.” The stranger reached into his pocket and pulled out a cotton handkerchief, handing it to Carrie to dry her eyes. “I’m happy to share my hotel room with you. In fact, I’m not very happy about being stranded in New York either and would welcome a bit of company for the evening.”
Carrie sniffed and dabbed at her tears. “Really?”
“Really. Your timing couldn’t be much better, my car is here.” He turned toward the uniformed driver who had parked a black town car at the curb and was about to pick up his bag to place it in the trunk. “Mario, this little lady is coming with us. If you could take her bag, I’d be much obliged.”
“Yes sir,” Mario said. He grabbed Carrie’s computer bag, which was looped over her arm.
Without waiting for Mario, the stranger opened the door to the backseat of the town car and motioned for Carrie to slide in.
“Where to, Mr. J?” Mario asked when he got back behind the wheel.
“The Royal Plaza. How’re the roads?”
“Okay for now, but the conditions are deteriorating. Good thing you called when you did. Another half hour and my dispatcher wouldn’t have let me back on the road.”
“Guess it’s my lucky day then,” the stranger said. He winked at Carrie and she smiled, letting her tired body sink into the plush leather seat. It felt good to finally relax someplace warm and comfortable.
She wiggled her exposed toes for the hundredth time that day. Note to self: Never travel to New York in the winter without warm, waterproof shoes.
“Since we’ll be spending the night together, I guess I should introduce myself.” She held out her hand. “I’m Carrie Carlson.”
When the stranger took her small hand in his larger one, Carrie felt a jolt of electric heat travel down her arm and into her belly. His nails were expertly manicured, but his palm was rough and callused. The dichotomy struck her as odd.
“Nice to meet you, Carrie Carlson. Trevor Jantz, at your service.”
In a flash, the heat in Carrie’s belly turned to ice. “Did you say Jantz? As in Jantz Oil?” She yanked her hand back.
“One and the same,” Trevor said.
“Then it’s all your fault!”
~~~
Want to know what happens next between Carrie and Trevor? Subscribe to my newsletter and be among the first to know when The Billionaire and His Publicist is released and goes on sale for just $.99!
About the Author
Harper Ashe writes the kind of romance she loves to read: usually sweet, sometimes spicy, always deliciously satisfying! She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her handsome husband, almost-grown children, and a very naughty cat.
Read more at Harper Ashe’s site.