by Jill Monroe
“Oh. I took it off. Have you seen what happens when they shine a black light on hotel quilts?”
“That is gross and disturbing. But it’s still weird you got rid of it.”
What was he going to do with her?
He’d only struck up a conversation with Chloe on the plane to pass some time. And then she’d hit him with those liquid-lined, green-and-gold eyes and a bad attitude and he’d been all in. Kinda made him wish he didn’t have so much work to get done tonight.
But if his meeting in Buffalo went the right way, he was going to be the new account director at Carson and McLeod. And a promotion meant a raise, and a raise meant the cabin on the lake would be his.
Still, he couldn’t just throw her out. She wasn’t plastic pretty, like the cookie-cutter blonde flight attendant she’d just alluded to. Chloe was sharp and smart-mouthed and real. She gave as good as she got, and he liked that about her. He also liked that, sprawled across his bed sheets in something as innocuous as a black T-shirt and jeans, she somehow managed to look provocative as hell. His body hummed with testosterone-fueled appreciation.
Jesus, Masterson. Get a grip!
You’d think he hadn’t been laid in years, when it had actually only been—a depressing calculation revealed that it had been almost a year since his rebound fling after he and Melanie had imploded. He’d been so focused on work that he hadn’t noticed how long it had been. Which was pathetic on many levels.
“What the hell am I going to do?” Chloe fumed. “They don’t have any other rooms.”
“You can stay here.” The words were out before his brain had registered the consequences, but he didn’t regret them. It wasn’t even the testosterone talking. By all accounts, Chloe had had a rough day. She deserved a win. For once, work could wait.
Those amazing green eyes widened in surprise as she bolted upright on the bed. “What?”
“I mean, you’re already here. I’m sure all of the airport hotels are in the same boat, so there’s no sense heading back out into the snow. Besides, we’re married, right?”
Her death glare was adorable. And just a front. She was considering it. She had a horrible poker face.
Chloe managed to hold out for seventeen seconds before she exhaled contemptuously. “If you snore, I will smother you in your sleep. Just so you’re warned.”
Ben did his best to tamp down the wattage of his smile. It was cute that she still thought she was keeping up her tough-girl facade.
“Excellent choice, Masterson.” He grabbed his wallet from inside his suitcase. “You settle in here, and I’ll go see if I can get us a cot and some food.” Ben headed for the door. “If I’m not back by midnight, check the ice machine for my corpse.”
Chloe might be having a really bad day, but his was turning out pretty well.
Copyright © 2015 by Taryn Leigh Taylor
ISBN-13: 9781460386156
Naked Thrill
Copyright © 2015 by Jill Floyd
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