The One

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The One Page 4

by Kristin Vayden


  “Wake up.”

  “No.”

  “You snore.”

  “Do not.” I opened one eye. “Girls don’t snore. They purr.”

  He barked out a laugh, coughing as he tried to control himself.

  Ignoring his reaction, I closed my one eye and settled farther in to the leather seat.

  So much better than airplane seats.

  “Believe me, you snore. At least you used to.”

  I sighed heavily, hoping he’d sense my irritation. “That’s only because you drugged Roxi and I with half a bottle of Benadryl and took pictures of us, drooling and in our full head gear. You’re lucky we didn’t need to call poison control.”

  “You were fine. It was the perfect idea though…” he recalled, his tone wistful.

  “You’re evil.”

  “I needed leverage!”

  I snickered. “Yeah… yeah you did.”

  “Bloody hell!”

  “In our defense… we probably wouldn’t have told everyone about your… uh… experiment.”

  “Liar. I heard your master plan. Roxi’s room wasn’t exactly sound proof.”

  “How did we get on this subject?”

  “You said you purr.”

  “Ah. Yes. I do.”

  He shook his head. “You snore. Like a drunken sailor. Of course, if you weren’t single you’d know that.”

  His words hit a soft spot, but I’d be damned if I’d let it show. “I’m exactly how I want to be.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Says the girl who had the perma-pregnant Barbie—”

  “What is up with you and Roxi and Barbies?” I shouted.

  “Easy, lass… Dinna get yerself in a lather,” his brogue was thick as he spoke quickly, his eyes wary as if I might suddenly attack.

  “You kill the accent for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You kill it. The whole sexy Scottish Brogue thing…”

  “I thought I spoke it quite well… being Scottish… and having a natural brogue and all.”

  “Not what I meant. Just another stereotype killer. Gone! All my girlish fantasies are officially dead.” I threw my hands up and glared out the window.

  “Uh, okay.” There was a long pause. “You know you’re just as daft as you always were.”

  “You know you’re just as irritating as you always were.”

  “Touché.”

  We traveled the last few blocks in silence as he wound through tall stone buildings and very narrow streets. Pulling up in front of a newer building, he parked and got out.

  A blue flag blew in the crisp spring wind with the name “Hotel Indigo.” I reached out and leaned against the door handle but Kirby pulled at the same time, causing me to throw my weight against nothing but air and I caught myself between his shoulder and the open door.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. Then I made the mistake of glancing up.

  Shocked blue eyes met mine then softened. The color was the same as the Hawaiian ocean, and seemed almost as restless. But as soon as his expression softened, it closed off and he backed away, almost roughly setting me to rights.

  “Ye never were graceful.” His gaze dipped to my lips, then he glanced away. “But dinna worry. The millionaire winna care,” he flirted, his gaze darting back to mine with a mischievous twinkle.

  “Yay.” I did a small fist pump. ”Can’t wait.”

  “Here’s your hotel. I’ll help you get to the front desk then the bell hop’ll get you settled.” His brogue lightened up slightly.

  Why was I even paying attention?

  “Thanks.”

  He shut the car door behind me and pulled the suitcase with one hand, carrying my three-wheeled carry-on in his other through the large glass door.

  Warm air rushed by me as classical music teased my ears. Large potted plants accented the very modern décor. I scanned the room for the front desk. Kirby was already there waiting, his expression one of impatience.

  Just to piss him off, I took a very slow step. Then smiled. Then took another.

  I heard a low growl and paused when he marched toward me. Without a word he slung me over his shoulder.

  “Put me down!” I hissed, but before I could hit him with my purse, he put me down in front of the wide-eyed clerk.

  “Checking in?” the lady asked, her amused expression darting between Kirby and myself.

  “Yes,” we answered together.

  “Name?”

  “Meredith Blane.” I pulled out my company credit card, holding my breath till she accepted it with a smile.

  “Ah, yes. I have you right here.” She typed a bit and started running key cards. “Newly Married?” she asked, her gaze smiling as she handed Kirby a card and then one to me.

  “What?” I asked just as he started to laugh.

  Her expression fell slightly.

  “No.” I shook my head, turned to Kirby, then shook my head harder.

  “Oh, I assumed—”

  “She’s a little slow, so I try to help out a bit… bein’ the good Samaritan that I am.” He winked at her, and I swear I saw her sway a little.

  I couldn’t blame her.

  But I wasn’t mature enough to just stand by and watch either.

  “His husband lets me use his brawn when I’m in town.” I patted his shoulder and collected my key card. “Room 403? Thank you!” I left my bags, signaling to an approaching bellhop as I made my way to the elevator.

  “Merry!” Kirby’s angry voice called after me but I ducked around a corner, holding my breath as he passed.

  “Damn female,” he growled. As soon as he was out of sight, I took a nearby staircase up a short flight then went down the hall. It was slightly odd, the floors weren’t actually floors like hotels back home, but little landings with several doors, then another short flight of stairs.

  The only elevator I saw was in the main lobby.

  As I took another flight of stairs, I slowly started to realize I was lost.

  My gaze darted to the last flight of stairs I took, then to another one going up. According to the floor I was on, my room should be the next flight up, but the numbers weren’t in order. Room 404 was next to room 430. I was taking a chance, but it was lesser of the two evils, the first evil being Kirby downstairs, waiting to do… something.

  After two more flights and not finding my room, I started back down, my ears perked just in case Kirby hadn’t given up and was waiting for me.

  Some things never changed.

  The hotel was almost too quiet. I hadn’t passed even one person as I’d escaped and gone searching for my room.

  And I had an overactive imagination.

  Not a good combination.

  A stair creaked as I stepped down, and I gasped, spinning around ready to defend myself, but I was still alone. And I still had no clue where I was. All my surroundings looked the same. White walls, dark walnut doors, and a few windows; minimalist.

  Was I going the right direction? I did go down this staircase, right? It couldn’t be that difficult! Irritated with myself, I straightened my shoulders and marched on, and on… and down another flight of stairs till I saw a large wooden door with a small window. Peeking out, I studied the room for any sign of Kirby, then I pressed it open. The scent of some sort of potato dish drifted through the air, making my stomach growl. It was another part of the hotel I hadn’t seen, and I took in the view of a large glass bar with hundreds of varieties of alcohol decorating the shelves behind it. Colorful chairs surrounded white tables and a large modern chandelier hung over the far corner.

  “Not bad, Roxi,” I whispered under my breath, thankful that at least the hotel was nice.

  Assuming my room looked half as nice as the bar, I was good to go. As I walked through the restaurant, I saw the front desk. Relief washed over me as I saw something that was familiar, yet I paused as I scanned the lobby for Kirby.

  No sign of him.

  Sighing with relief, I walked to the front desk. “I’m so so
rry, but I can’t seem to find my room,” I admitted a little sheepishly, my gaze still making sure Kirby wasn’t going to jump out from some corner and make me scream.

  “Oh! I tried to tell your friend, but he said you — never mind.” She blushed slightly. “It’s quite common for you to need a day or two to familiarize yourself with the hotel.” She smiled sweetly. “You see it was the town home of an English Lord that we purchased then modified into a hotel. We merged with a separate residence and that is why the staircases are quite short and somewhat confusing. It’s part of the eclectic feel.” She finished the explanation and offered a rueful shrug.

  “Ah… so the fourth floor?” I held up my room key.

  “Is actually up six flights of stairs, but you’ll be better off taking the lift to the fourth floor. Once you exit, if you go to the left, it’s the third door down.”

  I thanked her, and made my way to the elevator, pushed the button and waited for the ding announcing its arrival.

  Just as I entered, I remembered that I hadn’t checked on my luggage. “Oh! Did the guy bring up my suitcases?” I asked.

  Her brow pinched with confusion. “ Actually I—”

  The door shut on her last words, and I shrugged. The elevator sound system played Claire De Lune, lulling me into a more peaceful state. The doors opened and I strode out, noticing that my floor was decorated exactly like the others I had inadvertently explored.

  No wonder people got lost.

  “Four oh three.” I read the room numbers till I found mine, then I slid my card in, dreaming of a hot shower followed by whatever I could order via room service and a nice, long nap.

  The light blinked green, and I opened the door. Bright orange pillows accented the cream-colored bed. Glass shelves lined the walls, and the room had a very LA trendy feel. I tossed my purse on the bed, and glanced around. The corner had a fridge, and I knelt down to inspect the mini-bar.

  But there was no mini-bar. Rather, it was filled with snacks, milk, and shortbread.

  “God bless Scotland.” I whimpered as I pulled out the plastic package and stood.

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Ahhh!” I screamed, jumped, and dove over the bed, my shortbread flying as I quickly scanned the room for a weapon. Less than a second later, I realized that I knew that voice.

  And the laugh that followed.

  And the miserable excuse of a man currently bent over, laughing.

  “I hate you.”

  “You deserved that,” he said through his laughter.

  “You could have killed me! My heart! It’s pounding so hard right now!” I held my hand to my chest, feeling the mad hammering beneath my palm. I glared, then searched the room for something to throw.

  Seeing a pen on the desk, I grabbed it and chucked it at him.

  He ducked and it hit the wall.

  “You still throw like a girl.”

  “How did you even get in here?” I growled, scanning the floor for my snack. My stomach was practically eating itself, especially after I’d smelled the food at the bar.

  “The key, you eegit.” He shook his head, his expression one of amusement. His smile was almost blinding in contrast with the dark texture of his almost beard. His hands were on his hips, somehow accenting the way his shoulders trimmed down to a slim waist and long legs.

  “Key?”

  “Yeah, the woman at the front gave you one key and another one to me…” He let his voice linger.

  “Shit.”

  “And so, while you were getting yerself lost, I was in your room… eating your snacks and drinking your tea.” To accent his point, he held up one shortbread cookie and reached to lift a steaming mug I had somehow missed.

  “I want it back.” I glared.

  “No.” He lifted the mug and took an exaggerated sip.

  “I’ll call security.” I nodded toward the phone.

  “And I’ll simply tell them I’m trying to win back my lover.” He blew me a kiss.

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  “Not even if ye were the last lass on earth.” He shuddered and took a step back. “But that donna mean I’ll fight fair. Ye had this comin’, you did. And let it serve you as a warning that you shouldn’t tangle with the tiger.” He lifted the mug and walked to the door.

  “One day, Kir…by.” I drew out his name.

  He paused with his hand on the door handle. Shoulders tensing through his shirt, he glared over his shoulder. “I tho’ I told you that no one calls me that.”

  “Kirby…” I sing-songed, thrilled at the pissed off expression clouding his expression. “Kirby…” I did it again, just to spite him.

  “That’s it.” He set the mug down and twisted his neck slightly, as if cracking it, and then walked toward me.

  I searched for an escape, but I had the bed in front of me — not good — and the window behind me.

  How far up was I anyway?

  He grinned, showing far too many perfect, white teeth. “Yer six levels up.”

  Great. Now I could add mind reading to his list of annoying talents.

  “Shit.”

  I watched as he methodically approached me, studying me like a freaking lion stalking his prey. I waited till he lunged, and then I leapt onto the bed, hurling myself over it and landing on my knees on the hardwood floor.

  “Not so fast.”

  I pulled myself up but it was too much of a delay, and he caught up with me. Reaching around my body, he pulled me up onto the bed and pinned my arms down as he hovered over me.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I ground out.

  He smirked and started to clear his throat.

  “No.” I shook my head and closed my eyes, turning my head away and pinching my mouth shut. He wouldn’t dare, would he?

  “Mer-ry,” he harassed me, making a noise as if he was about to dribble spit over my head.

  “What are you, seven?” I spoke quickly, then pressed my lips together, hoping he wouldn’t do what I thought he was going to do.

  “Nope. A wee bit older,” he spoke like his mouth was full.

  Not a good sign.

  Desperate, I opened my eyes and glared at him then started to thrash. He might be bigger than me, but I was desperate. Bucking my hips, I tried to press against his thighs, wiggling against him and arching my back as I pushed his arms up against my pinned wrists.

  “Easy, lass. You’ll hurt yourself.” He laughed but it was strained as his expression shifted, as if surprised by my strength.

  “Or hurt you.” I lifted a knee, almost hitting his groin.

  “Is that how you want to play?” He forced my arms down, glaring as he pressed his entire weight into me, pinning me completely.

  And suddenly… it wasn’t so bad.

  His warm body covered mine, sending my heart to pounding and my blood to surging through my veins as I heated with an entirely different emotion. Shocked, I met his gaze, knowing mine was unfiltered and not knowing how to hide my reaction.

  His eyes changed from frustration to a new kind of frustration as they smoldered. His breathing changed, accelerated just like his heartbeat as I felt it through his skin and onto my own. His gaze shifted from my eyes to my lips.

  Without thinking, mine parted.

  Holy shit, I wanted him to kiss me.

  Badly.

  Worse than anything I could ever remember wanting before.

  But I couldn’t move. I was at his mercy, and rather than hate it, it was exactly where I wanted to be.

  It had to be a side effect of jet lag.

  His head descended slowly, as if he weren’t quite sure of what he was doing, yet utterly powerless to stop it.

  Warm breath tickled my lips a moment before his lips touched mine, sending a thousand lightning strikes through my body. His beard was soft as it teased my skin. The masculine scent of spice and lime provoked my senses, drawing me in as he leaned away. I opened my eyes, just realizing that at some point they had fluttered closed.<
br />
  Then quick as it happened, he was off me and across the room at the door. Gone.

  With me, staring at the door like it held the bloody secrets of the universe.

  Because, the world just turned on its ear.

  Kirby had kissed me.

  And I’d liked it.

  No.

  I’d loved it.

  Hell had officially frozen over.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JET LAG KICKED my butt and I was up at four in the morning, wide-awake. The first thoughts that flowed through my mind were of what had happened the day before.

  Damn the man.

  I couldn’t get him out of my head. And at four in the morning, I really, really wanted too.

  Right now, all I should be doing was sleeping, yet there I was, staring at the white ceiling of my hotel room, reliving the kiss, and wondering if there was any chance he was as affected by me as I was by him.

  Basically, I was being a girl.

  And as much as I liked being a girl, I didn’t appreciate that my girlishness focused on Kirby.

  Giving up on falling back asleep, I remembered that my hotel room boasted a rain shower.

  I had always wanted one.

  After getting up and padding to the bath, I blinked and squinted at my reflection. Dark circles accented my fair skin tone and my auburn hair looked like I had stuck my finger in a light socket.

  Multiple times.

  Hopefully that rain shower had some pressure. I was going to need it.

  After several minutes of dousing myself, shampooing and then pouring on the conditioner and washing away all the last thoughts of sleep, I left the bathroom in search of my makeup bag. As I passed through the room I noticed the teapot and one missing mug.

  This was insane. I had gone over a decade without really even thinking of Kirby. And suddenly he was everywhere.

  Everywhere!

  Grumbling, I filled the teapot with water and turned it on. As it brewed I got dressed and started my makeup. The millionaire bachelor date wasn’t until that night, so I had the whole day to explore.

  As soon as I was ready, I steeped some tea in the hot water and sat down with the mug at the desk. Pulling out my laptop, I shot off a few e-mails. As my stomach rumbled I scavenged the little fridge for any remaining snacks.

 

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