She snatched the coat from Bonnie, heat infusing her cheeks. It’s not like Bon knew what had taken place right where she was currently sitting. Cassie cleared her throat. “Thanks!” she said brightly to cover her embarrassment. “See you in the morning.”
She hoisted her backpack on her shoulder. As she tossed Logan’s jacket over her arm, a small jewelry box tumbled out and fell to the ground. She bent forward and scooped it up.
“Everything okay?” Bonnie called from the couch.
“I don’t know.” Cassie set her backpack down and turned to show her friend the box.
Bonnie jackknifed into a sitting position. “That’s not…”
“I don’t know,” Cassie repeated as she stared at the little box. “It can’t be … right? That would be crazy.”
“You think? You’ve known each other what, all of three days?”
“Four—almost five, thank you very much.” Cassie moved to sit next to Bonnie. “Not everyone starts dating their future husband while still wearing braces.”
“I never wore braces.”
“You know what I mean.” Cassie held the box out to Bonnie. “Here, open it.”
“I’m not opening it! You open it.” Bonnie pushed the box back toward Cassie.
“I don’t think I can,” Cassie said, swallowing hard.
“Oh, just give it here,” Bonnie grumbled, “it’s probably not even for you.” She grabbed the box out of Cassie’s hands and pulled the top off. “Aaaaw!”
“What? What is it?” Cassie asked, her eyes squeezed shut.
“I was wrong.” Bonnie shoved the box back in Cassie’s hands. “It is for you.”
Cassie peeled one eye open, relaxing when she didn’t see the flash of a diamond ring. Nestled in the box were two charms, silver miniature versions of London Bridge and the Eye. “They’re for my bracelet!”
“Yes, yes, very sweet of him,” Bonnie said, nudging Cassie off the couch. “Now get out of here and go thank the man properly before you make me miss the part where Darcy comes out of the lake.”
Cassie closed the lid, a flock of joyful butterflies taking flight inside her as she pictured him picking the charms out. She wondered when he’d had the time to find these. As she tried to shove the box back inside Logan’s coat, a piece of paper slipped out of the pocket. Thinking it was probably the receipt, she grabbed it and was about to tuck it away with the box when something on the paper caught her eye … something familiar.
Her back stiffened. She’d seen this document before. Almost five days ago, in fact. The same day she’d met Logan for the first time. Cassie unfolded the paper and scanned the document. Mother-effer.
The butterfly wings turned razor sharp, shredding her happiness. She wanted to do the same to the waiver, tear it to shreds and stamp on the pieces, maybe light them on fire. She tore off a corner, but as she began to rip the paper, the echoing rip across her own heart made her stop. Cassie took a shallow breath, then crumpled the paper in a ball and threw it across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed on the desk. “Sorry, Bon,” Cassie said, struggling to keep her voice level as she picked up her backpack and retreated to the bedroom. “Looks like you don’t get a room to yourself after all.”
Before Bonnie could reply, Cassie slid the pocket door dividing the suite closed. She stood still and took several slow, deep breaths. What she wanted to do was throw herself across the bed and cry, but instead, she began to pack. With sharp, precise movements, she gathered up her mess of clothes and began to fold each item, taking more care than she usually ever did.
She was halfway through the pile when she heard the bedroom door slide open behind her. She dropped the sweater she was folding and glanced over her shoulder, equal parts relieved and disappointed to see Bonnie. For a brief second, she’d thought Logan had come to see what was taking her so long. Without a word, Cassie returned to her pile, not wanting to talk, not wanting to think.
After a moment, Bonnie entered the bedroom and began to place the folded piles of Cassie’s clothes in the suitcase. They continued to work together, the silence of the room broken only by the soft murmur of Darcy and Elizabeth from the television in the suite’s parlor. In no time, all of Cassie’s things were neatly packed. Bonnie zipped the suitcase and rolled it across the room to stand next to hers. “Want to talk about it?” she asked, fiddling with the luggage tags on one of the handles.
Cassie sat on the edge of her bed and shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.
Bonnie joined her on the bed, wrapping her arms around Cassie in a tight hug, auburn curls tickling Cassie’s wet cheeks. Cassie leaned into her friend, pressing her face into Bonnie’s shoulder, absorbing the quiet strength and love Bonnie silently offered with the simple gift of her presence. After a time, Cassie looked up to see Bonnie watching her. Her friend’s face was full of curiosity and concern, bright blue eyes brimming with questions.
But when Bonnie finally spoke, she asked only one thing. “What do you want first: booze or chocolate?”
* * *
Cassie groaned and rolled on to her side. Something crinkled beneath her cheek and she shifted, plucking out a candy wrapper. As she pulled herself into a mostly upright position, a few tiny bottles of alcohol tinkled to the floor. She cracked one eye, still gritty with sleep, to see Bonnie slouched across from her, face buried in the couch cushions. Cassie nudged Bonnie with her knee.
“What time is it?” Bonnie croaked.
“Time to get moving.” Cassie stood and shuffled to the window. A rosy glow was barely creeping above the rooftops of tightly packed buildings lining the London horizon. Her last sunrise in Europe.
“It’s barely dawn, our flight isn’t until this afternoon, and I have a sugar-and-alcohol-fueled hangover.” Bonnie yawned and burrowed deeper into the couch cushions. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sleep for another few hours.”
Cassie shoved the curtains open wider, letting the meager light spill across the room. “Come on, Bon. Don’t you want to get home to Gabe?”
Rolling back over, Bonnie pushed the tumble of red curls out of her face and stared bleary-eyed at Cassie. “This isn’t about Gabe, is it? It’s about him.”
At the mention of him, Cassie felt nauseous, the montage of minibar staples she’d downed last night deciding to launch a parade in her gut. “Never mind. Go back to sleep, Bon. I’m going to take a shower.” Evading her friend’s questioning gaze, Cassie escaped to the bathroom.
The room started to fill with steam as the shower heated up. Cassie swiped a hand across the mirror, clearing the mist away. Ugh, you look like hell. The left side of her hair was sticking straight up, as if she’d spent the night with her face pressed against the arm of a couch … which of course she had. She was still in her clothes from yesterday, the peasant blouse now hopelessly wrinkled, her jeans sagging at the knees.
And underneath that, she still wore the damn lingerie set.
She stripped off all her clothes and debated flushing the uber-expensive underwear down the toilet—it’s not like she was going to wear it ever again—but decided against it. The last thing she needed was to get in trouble, and knowing her luck, fined for plugging the hotel’s plumbing. The damn outfit had cost her enough as it was. She rolled everything together and crammed it into a ball before stepping into the shower.
The water was prickly hot. As heat eroded her hangover and the remains of her fatigue evaporated, the facts of last night settled in. Cassie grabbed the hotel shampoo and lathered her hair with quick, angry strokes. He’d lied to her. She remembered when she saw him on the dinner cruise and first realized he was in London. She’d been cautious then, wary. But he’d crept past her defenses … not that she’d made it very difficult for him.
Logan fucking Reid had followed her here from Scotland, carrying that damn waiver with him. All this time, every minute he’d been with her, had been part of his plan. He was worse than Ana’s loony Lorenzo. At least Lorenzo had chased after them be
cause he wanted to marry Ana. The only reason Logan had chased her down was because he wanted her fucking signature.
Cassie leaned her forehead against the tile. No. If she was honest with herself, that wasn’t all he wanted. He’d wanted her too, as badly as she wanted him. If all he’d wanted was to get her to say yes to airing his stupid prank video, he could have asked her that night on the boat. But he didn’t. Instead, he’d talked to her, laughed with her, spent time with her … made love to her.
How could he do that? She lifted her face to the spray, letting the pounding stream work out the knots of tension. How could he be with her the way he had these last few days, all the while hiding an ulterior motive? Cassie finished rinsing her hair and shut off the water. She dried off briskly, searching her memories of her time with Logan for any signs she may have missed.
The problem was, she told herself as she brushed her teeth hard enough to scrape enamel, she’d been so happy to see Logan again, so eager to continue her foreign fling, that she’d been oblivious to everything else. Or at least ignored the warning bells.
And they had been ringing. Loud and clear, like her head was now, pain pounding between her ears. A tiny but persistent troll banging away inside her skull. I need coffee. Not wanting to wake Bonnie again, and in need of something better than the sad excuse for caffeine that was the in-room coffee, Cassie decided to head downstairs. As she slipped on her shoes, her gaze landed on the jacket again and an idea struck her.
The dark-haired girl at the front desk smiled pleasantly when Cassie strode up. “Morning, miss. May I help you?”
“Yes”—she glanced at the girl’s nametag—“Miss Beth Swanson, you may.” Cassie slapped Logan’s jacket on the counter. “This belongs to a guest at the hotel, can I leave it here for him?”
“Um,” Beth hesitated.
“Logan Reid,” Cassie added.
“Oh, yes!” The girl’s face brightened. “You’re his friend’s sister, then?”
“Pardon?” The troll started hammering inside her head again. Maybe she should have got the coffee first.
“Aren’t you Miss Crow?”
“Yes,” Cassie said slowly.
“Your brother’s friends…” Beth beamed at her. “Theo, er … Mr. Wharton and Mr. Reid. When they checked in Wednesday afternoon, they mentioned wanting to make sure they looked in on you.”
Cassie smiled weakly. She had no clue whose brother Beth was referring to, but that wasn’t the part her caffeine-starved brain was struggling to make sense of. Logan and Theo had met up with them on the river cruise Wednesday evening. “You mean Wednesday night, right?”
“Oh, no.” Beth shook her head. “My shift ends by afternoon tea. I checked them in myself.”
“Right.” That lying asshole. She clenched her fists, digging her nails into Logan’s jacket.
Beth leaned across the counter and offered Cassie a commiserating sigh. “I have two big brothers, and they’re both overprotective pains in the bum.”
“You know…” Cassie pasted a smile on her face. “I think I’ll drop this off myself.”
“As you like.” Beth’s rosy complexion grew even pinker. “Could you … would you mind saying hello to Theo for me?”
“No problem.” In fact, Cassie decided as she took the elevator back up to her floor, she’d go see Mr. Might-Be-A-Duke right now. Heart pounding, Cassie gathered Logan’s jacket in her arms. She didn’t want to talk or see the effing Scot … but maybe she could get some answers from his British buddy. “Theo is over in 757, I’m 762.”
A minute later, she was knocking on the door of Theo’s suite. Cassie glanced down the hall to Logan’s room and fought the urge to go bang on his door instead. If things had gone as planned, right now she’d be in his room, still in his bed.
Instead, it was almost nine o’clock in the morning, and Logan hadn’t even tried to reach her. She’d checked her phone. No missed calls, no new texts. What did he think when she didn’t show last night? That the jig was up? The fact he hadn’t come to find her was further admission of his guilt. She stifled a frustrated yawn. She still hadn’t managed to get a cup of coffee yet.
“Cassie?” Theo asked when he opened the door, looking confused but very handsome and extra Prince Eric-ish in a white fisherman’s sweater and dark jeans.
“Good. You’re awake. Can I come in?” She pushed past him before he could reply.
With his typical impeccable manners, he didn’t protest the intrusion. Closing the door behind her, he asked, “Can I help you with something?”
“What do you know about this?” Cassie pulled the wadded up contract out of one of the pockets. She’d stuffed that and the jewelry box back inside the jacket before she’d gone downstairs.
“It’s rubbish?” Theo suggested, then narrowed his eyes at the crumpled paper. “Oh.” Running a hand through his thick, dark hair, he gestured toward the couch. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Cassie sat, fidgeting with a torn edge of paper.
“He’s not a bad chap, you know.” Theo joined her on the couch, his voice gentle.
Cassie glanced over at him. “I know he’s a liar.”
“What makes you say that?” Theo’s voice was still gentle, but she sensed a note of challenge.
“Well, for starters, he lied about when you checked in to this hotel.” She watched Theo’s face, looking for a reaction. “Beth says hello, by the way.”
“Ah.” He had the decency to look embarrassed.
Cassie pressed on. “He also told me you were a duke.”
Theo’s hands tightened at his sides, but he didn’t respond. He also didn’t look embarrassed anymore … if anything, he looked ticked off.
Cold certainty rolled through Cassie. She stared at his profile … his very aristocratic profile. “He wasn’t lying about that, was he?”
A muscle leapt in Theo’s jaw. “You can stop staring now.” His voice was clipped, all trace of gentleness gone.
Cassie jerked back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Bloody bastard. He shouldn’t have told you.”
“It’s not his fault,” Cassie said, surprising herself by rising to Logan’s defense. “He was sauced. And I kept calling you Prince Eric. And he said you’re not a prince, you’re a duke, but I shouldn’t say anything…”
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Say anything.” Theo nodded in the direction of the suite she shared with Bonnie. “To your friends, perhaps?”
Cassie shook her head. “No. To be honest, I’d pretty much forgotten all about it until now. It was the night of the river cruise. I was tipsy too, and had, er, other things on my mind.” Her cheeks heated as she recalled the kisses she and Logan had shared on the boat, in the hotel hallway, against the door to her room …
“I wager you did.” Theo chuckled, amusement lightening his tone. His flash of anger was gone as quickly as it had come.
Cassie stared down at the contract. Unlike Theo, she was still angry. Only now she realized she was angry at herself too, possibly more than she was at Logan. It was her own damn fault.
When he’d shown up that night on the boat, she’d let her attraction to him and the magic of that perfect night convince her to ignore reality, pretend, play make believe. She’d wanted to visit Neverland … and so she had.
Her phone vibrated. On reflex, Cassie almost pressed the answer button before she remembered to check to see who it was.
Theo glanced over. “Is it him?” he asked, voicing her thoughts.
She shook her head. “It’s Bonnie.” Relief and regret roiled in her gut. “Hey, Bon.”
“Cassie? Thank God. I woke up and you were gone. Where are you?”
“I’m um…” She cleared her throat. “I’m in Theo’s room.”
“Oh.” There was a moment of silence as Bonnie processed this information. “Okay. I thought maybe you’d run away or something.”
“Why would I do that?” Cassie paused, thin
king. “You know … that’s a great idea. Hold on, Bon, I’ll be right there.”
Fifteen minutes later, Bonnie joined Cassie outside the hotel and shoved a banana into Cassie’s hand.
“What’s this for?” Cassie protested.
“Breakfast.”
“Thanks, Mom. A coffee would have been better.”
“Where’s your boarding pass?” Bonnie asked, unperturbed.
“On my phone.”
“You sure you don’t want to print it?”
“I’m sure.” Cassie stuffed the banana in her pack and shouldered it. “I’ll get through security and wait for you guys in the lounge.”
Bonnie nodded. “I’ll let the other girls know and make sure they’re ready to go. You know how long Sadie takes.”
“Right. And remember, if you see him—” Cassie hesitated.
“I’ll handle it,” Bonnie said, eyes flashing.
If Cassie didn’t know better, she’d say Bonnie was kind of enjoying this. But Cassie did know better—and Bonnie was totally enjoying this. Her friend wasn’t happy about the fact Cassie was hurt and upset and looking to escape. It was more that Bonnie was excited about the act of escape itself. Like her fictional doppelgänger, Anne Shirley, Bonnie had always had a flair for the dramatic. And as Bonnie’s best friend, Cassie—like her own fictional doppelgänger, Diana Barry—had ridden sidecar on more than one madcap adventure, the passenger to whatever escapade Bonnie dreamt up next.
Only today it looked like she would be riding passenger next to Theo. She had intended to call a cab to take her to the airport, but Theo insisted on driving her himself. Cassie wondered if it was British manners or a guilty conscience that prompted Theo’s offer, but decided she didn’t care. A free ride was a free ride.
A vintage roadster rolled to a stop in front of them. Theo stepped out and Bonnie gasped. “Is this yours?”
“No, I lifted it from James Bond,” he shot back, straight-faced.
The car did look like something straight out of a 007 film. Cassie snickered and rolled her suitcase over to Theo. “Thanks again for doing this.”
He heaved her suitcase into the trunk. “Anything for a damsel in distress.”
Getting Hot with the Scot--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 17