I DIDN’T GET INVOLVED. I never got involved. So, why the fuck was I carrying a suitcase that had to cost more than a month of my rent to the Royal Sonesta with a girl trailing after me who had prim, proper, and helpless written all over her?
Because I couldn’t let her fend for herself in this mess? Since when did I care about random people off the street?
I glanced back to see if she was keeping up, and slowed when I realized she was lagging more than a few steps behind me.
Pink-and-white polo shirt with no doubt some fancy logo on it. Dark skinny jeans. Fucking Sperry Top-Siders. And then that face and those eyes. Like a sucker punch to the gut.
I wasn’t the kind of guy for women like her. The kind that fell into the category marked off with caution tape that read GOOD GIRLS – PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK. But for some reason, my brain and my dick couldn’t get on the same page.
Not that my dick was going anywhere near her. Fuck, she probably had some kind of force field to keep guys like me away from her pristine self. Then why does she look at you like that? I saw the fascination in her eyes when she looked at me, and I was going to fucking ignore it.
She finally caught up, and I shortened my stride so she could keep pace. Questions burned on the tip of my tongue, but I shut them down.
I don’t get involved.
But seriously, what the fuck was she doing in New Orleans with no hotel room during Mardi Gras? That didn’t scream sophisticated world traveler to me. Something wasn’t adding up.
Doesn’t matter.
I kept my eyes straight ahead, scanning the streets, moving to dodge people and glancing down at her no more than once every thirty seconds to make sure she wasn’t falling behind again.
But that excuse was bullshit because I never let her out of my peripheral vision. Still, that was how I saw her drag her gaze up to my face as though she was trying just as hard to figure me out when she should have been keeping track of the pavement beneath her feet.
“Fuck,” I bit out as she caught a toe on the uneven cobblestone and pitched forward toward a girl in a silver bikini top and not much else. Cupcake’s arms shot out to brace her fall, but before her hands could make contact with the girl or the ground, I wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her up beside me.
The cry of surprise I’d expected to hear when she was falling didn’t come until she was flush against my side and the scent of something beachy and citrus invaded my nose. Of course she has to smell better than any woman I’ve ever gotten close to. Fuck me.
“Thank you.” The words were hushed, probably because her face was buried in my shoulder.
I stilled and waited for her to unwrap her fingers from around my wrist and disconnect us.
As soon as she became aware of how she’d clung to me, she jumped away like she’d just learned I was a leper.
“Watch yourself.”
“Sorry. I’m not usually this clumsy.”
I wasn’t sure I could believe that so I started walking again, and she hurried to keep up. When the door on the side of the Royal Sonesta finally came into view, relief and disappointment punched into me.
I just needed to get the key, get the girl in the room, and get the hell back to the shop. My good deed for the day—more like for the year—would be done, and I wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen to her on her own. And I’ll never see her again.
The crowd parted ahead of me, and I tugged on the knob of the side door. It didn’t budge.
Fuck.
“I . . . uh, I think you have to have a keycard to get in.” She gestured to the gold plaque and the card reader beneath it.
Shit. This was why I only agreed to party in a hotel room if someone I knew was already there or I already had the key. Dealing with front-desk managers wasn’t my thing.
“Come on.” I wrapped a hand around her arm and pulled her toward the service door that led into the parking garage under the hotel. She stiffened but followed.
I inhaled the combination of exhaust, brake fluid, and gasoline that finally drove her scent from my nose. Better that way.
Inside the garage was a door that led to the hotel, and I reluctantly released my hold on her before pushing it open and gesturing for her to enter ahead of me. We made our way through a maze of hallways until we reached the lobby.
The desk clerks looked overworked and underpaid as they dealt with drunken partiers and answered the nonstop ringing phones.
I caught sight of Leon and joined his line. The girl hung back, which was fine by me.
Leon, a client of mine whose ink was completely hidden by his uniform, smiled when he saw me. “Hey, man! Didn’t think you would actually take me up on the room and let me pay off a little of what I owe you.”
“I appreciate it, brother. How many nights did you block this one off for?”
His eyebrows went up and he checked the computer. “It’s blocked until Wednesday morning, but only comped for two nights. I can’t comp it the whole time without getting fired.”
“That’s no problem.” Her voice came from beside me as she slid a credit card across the counter. “You can use this for whatever you need to charge.”
Leon looked from the girl to me and then down at the card before swiping it. “That works for me. Thank you, Ms. Madden.”
Ms. Madden. Now my curiosity was beating at me because I needed to know her first name but I wasn’t about to ask in front of Leon.
After he returned the credit card and slid two room keys across the counter, she stepped away. Leon smiled and winked at me. “Enjoy your night. I know I would if I were you.”
“Thanks, man. Consider us even.” I didn’t address his comment because I was sure he figured I’d be fucking Ms. Madden six ways to Sunday in the room tonight, but that wasn’t on the menu.
As I followed her to the elevator, I got my first good look at her from behind. Long blond hair tumbled over her shoulders to the middle of her back, and her ass filled out those jeans in the best way possible.
If she were on the menu, I’d fucking devour her.
My dick jumped in agreement, and I had to force myself to think about something else. Like the fact that hooking up with a girl like her would lead to nothing but trouble, even if she had been throwing out the signals that she was interested, which she wasn’t.
Even better. I was picturing her ass cupped in my hands while I lifted her up against the wall of the elevator we stepped into, and she was trying to pretend I didn’t exist.
Heavy silence hung in the air as she stared at the floor and I pressed the button for the third floor.
The mirrors told the truth, though, and she sneaked more than one glance at me before we stepped out.
Ms. Madden started down the hall ahead of me.
Ms. Madden. Way too frigging proper. Gave me all sorts of ideas about teaching her just how improper she could be.
Not happening.
“What’s your name, girl?” The question came out more like a bark, fueled by frustration with my inability to lock my shit down.
She jerked around at my harsh tone and nearly tripped over her own feet on the carpet.
“Uh . . . E-Eden,” she stuttered, and then shut her mouth so quickly her teeth clacked together.
Once again, I reached out to steady her, but was slow to drop my hand from her hip.
“Watch yourself.” It was as much a warning to me as it was to her.
“Sorry. It’s been a long day.” Her gaze met mine for a moment before dropping away.
I reached up, and she froze as if expecting me to touch her again, but I pointed at the wall behind her.
“Looks like we found your room.”