He was gone. Finally!

Taking care to be as quiet as a church mouse I peered out of the crack and opened the bedroom door, listening intently for any sounds of the stranger before pulling the door all the way open.

For the last hour I'd closeted myself in the bedroom, my earlier euphoria now gone. Poof, up in smoke. Why oh why couldn't this at least work out? Now I had five nights of hell ahead of me. I'd phoned downstairs again but there was nothing they could do. Even the other local resorts—which were actually hours away—were booked up. Either I stayed and shared the room or they could shuttle me back to the airport to see if I could reschedule my flight. I reluctantly chose to stay.

Walking into the living room, it was hard to tell that someone else had even been here. Though there was a medium-sized suitcase that lay quietly in the corner of the room like a guilt-ridden dog who'd done bad. An empty glass on the bar was the only other indicator of my intruder.

Oh, that and his cologne. I could smell that throughout the suite. It had already penetrated under the bedroom door like it was eager to remind me there was a hot stranger on the other side.

I blew out a breath. He wasn’t exactly a stranger though. He had been the other caller, I reminded myself. Had to be.

It was a stupid game, naming the movie a quote belonged too and he had gotten the chance to go first. I, of course, knew which one it was instantly and when he had gotten it wrong, I could barely hold in my excitement as I had proudly blurted the correct name of the movie.

Apparently, to my annoyance, he wasn't wrong, and the quote hadn't been the only movie with that line. And now I was being forced to share a suite with a virtual stranger. I had a right mind to phone the radio station and complain, give them a piece of my mind. How dare they put me in this situation…

No matter that he was oh so gorgeous.

“Oh no, we aren’t going down that route,” I muttered to myself. Just because I’d been spending more and more time with my special vibrating rabbit didn’t mean I was desperate enough to jump in bed with the first guy that smiled at me. Damn that cheeky smile though.

But he was clearly not my type, out of my league… all muscles, snarky charm, and gorgeous good looks that would turn any woman’s head instantly. More trouble than they were worth. And he came off as a total player. I bet he was downstairs right now talking the knickers off the receptionist. She looked the type to be taken in by his corny lines and false bravado. Me, I was more into the quiet, nerdy sort. Tim had been an accountant, with glasses with a fondness for classic movies and ponderous westerns. Much more my speed. Down to earth and uncomplicated… Well, until he fucked things up.

Maybe he ended it because he couldn’t wrap his head around me loving action movies. Always eager for over the top scenes, and dragging him to the latest cheesy Mark Wahlberg or Bruce Willis movie. He hated it and never stopped to remind me of my low-brow tastes. At least I watched his movies without huffing or complaining. For him, I had been willing to change my ways and give his taste a chance.

He had not.

Shaking Tim out of my thoughts, I straightened the cute sweater and leggings combo I had thrown on, fluffing my hair out over my shoulders. I studied my reflection in the full-length mirror and vowed to cut back a little on my late night pizzas, but all in all I was happy with what I saw. This trip had allowed for a few new pieces added to my wardrobe and I was now glad I hadn’t brought some raggedy clothes.

After all, I was sharing my room now.

“Ugh,” I groaned, grabbing my clutch and walking to the door. I wasn’t going to let this ruin my trip. I still had free food and alcohol and tonight, I was going to enjoy it immensely.

After securing the door, I made my way to the elevator and punched the first floor, the laughter and sounds of the evening crowd drifting up from the centre of the lodge. I wanted to have fun, to throw caution to the wind and forget for a while the reality that was my life. I had no great career—never found my calling—and spent my days answering the phone and filling as an administrative assistant at a law firm. While it paid the bills and I was moderately happy there, it wasn’t my passion.

And now I barely had a social life, my entire last two years wrapped up in a man who clearly had not appreciated my sacrifices. I pulled out my phone and tapped out a few lines on my to-do list. Call Rach and Leonie. I had to get the girls back together and apologise for letting a man of all things come between us and monopolise my time.

The doors slid open, and I stepped inside, nodding to the couple that were already in the elevator. "Are you going to the bar?" the blonde asked as the doors closed. "They have the best cocktails."

I looked over at her and felt like her dowdy cousin. Maybe I should have worn the dress tonight? She was wearing barely next to nothing and the guy that she was with was clearly enjoying the sight. I mean, where did they think they were? The tropics? She would freeze if they stepped outside! Realising they were still waiting for my answer, I nodded. "Yeah sure. That sounds good."

Thankfully, the ride was short and I stepped out quickly, heading towards the bar in desperate need of a drink. Snagging the last stool at the bar, I sat my clutch on the oak surface.

“What’s your poison?” the bartender asked, as he set a white napkin in front of me. “The cocktail of the week is The Love Potion.”

I shot him a look.

“It’s not pink is it?”

"It doesn't taste pink if that helps. It's a champagne concoction, vanilla, strawberries with a splash of cranberry and pineapple juice. You'll love it."

"What the hell. I'll give it a try," I said, not even sure what I was ordering but not wanting to disappoint the eager bartender. He was probably paid a commission to flog as many as he could. Usually, a glass of chardonnay was my go-to drink but with being on a budget, and since the station was paying for this tipple and all the others, I was willing to try something new. Here's to a new leaf and turning it over, I thought.

The bartender nodded and gave me a broad smile. While I waited for my potion, I took in my surroundings. There was a small group of about six gathered in the middle of the lounge. All glamorous and dressed up in suits or evening gowns. Pairs of lovers hung off each other in the dimly light corners. Bursts of laughter exploded around the room periodically.

Being the introvert that I was, the last thing I could imagine myself doing was going over to the group, introducing myself, and striking up a conversation. Definitely not on the agenda, even if they did look friendly enough. I wouldn't even know what to say and I doubted I would have anything in common with the other guests who all looked to be part of the one-percent. It was easier to keep to myself.

A familiar face caught my eye at the end of the bar and I realised it was my new troublesome roommate. He nodded my way, eyes sparkling and his mouth widening into a crooked smile. Why did he have to be so damn gorgeous? Worse still he was well aware of his looks and played them to his advantage.

I took a breath and considered joining him. Saying hello. Starting again. I still didn’t even know his name and couldn’t remember it from the radio when we’d been on the air. Psyching myself up—what was the worst that could happen? That we’d hate each other even more—I started to get off my stool when he turned his head to the person sitting next to him. He leaned in close. I was forgotten.

He wasn't alone. Obviously, he didn't have any issues making friends, I thought snarkily. But I supposed his type were never alone for long. At least it wasn't the receptionist…

A slender woman with ruby-red lipstick and glossy magazine hair laughed at something he said. I scowled. He was probably telling her all about how he had to share a room with an uncooperative, angry woman. The blonde kept her hand on his arm as they enjoyed a drink together and a sudden spark of jealousy ran through me. Why I felt like that was beyond me. I didn't know him. Had no claim over him… and certainly didn't want his body on mine… his lips on my lips… his tongue skimming across… Oh god.

“Here you go,” the bartender interrupted. “Let me know if you like it. If not I can fix you up anything you want.”

Blushing wildly I stared at the light pink, and fizzy drink he placed down in front of me, the glass and its bubbly contents twinkling in the dim lighting. "Thanks. It doesn't look so bad actually."

"No problem," he said and left to serve another customer.

I picked up the glass by the stem and eyed it. Then eyed my stranger, still too close to the blonde—god she was almost in his lap. Was going to ride him right there and there in the bar? Bah. He was having fun so why shouldn't I? Turning back to the drink I noticed the rim was lined with a fine dusting of sugar. Surely it couldn't be that bad then. I loved the sweet-stuff more than I should.

Taking a huge sip, I nearly spat it back up as a fierce liquid burned a violent path straight down to my gut, causing me to cough hard.

Oh my god, it was horrible. Wretched. The worst cocktail I'd ever had! I wanted to scrape the anise-flavoured liquid off my tongue. God, it felt like it was curdling on the way down too. Setting the glass down hard, I struggled to breathe, some of the others at the bar, including my new roommate, glanced my way, at the scene I was creating.

“What the hell did you put in it?” I spluttered.

The bartender looked astonished, then his mouth dropped open. “Oh, crap.”

He picked up the champagne glass and took a giant sniff.

"I'm so sorry… I think I accidentally mixed in Sambuca instead of the Absolut vodka. Dammit! Let me make you another one. A proper one. Just please don't tell my boss?"

Forcing a pained smile, I waved off his apologies, grabbed my clutch and floundered away quickly, my face burning with embarrassment, my cough racking up concerned and repulsive looks as I left the bar.