As Meg entered the bedroom, she couldn't help but wonder what sort of company kept a penthouse like this available for their employees. Apparently she made a wrong turn in college choosing education over a business degree. She had no idea people lived like this. Studying the room, she felt overwhelmed once again by the decadence of it all. The room was elegance personified. The large king sized bed was on a raised platform on one side of the room, complete with an honest-to-God canopy. She’d always wanted a canopy bed as a child, but there was never the money for such frivolous things.
While her small family hadn’t lived in poverty, it may have been stretching things to say they were lower middle class. Her mother, Joanne, had gotten pregnant with her while still in high school. Needless to say, her father, a teenager himself, refused to accept responsibility for her. Although Meg knew his name, she never made any attempt to contact him. He’d gone off to college, married, and now lived happily ever after with his legitimate family.
Meg’s grandfather died two months before she was born, so Meg grew up in a house full of women who had never worked a day in their lives prior to her arrival. Meg’s Grandma Linda was the glue that kept their little family of three together. She got a job as a secretary in an accounting firm right after her husband’s death. When her mother graduated from high school, she went to work for the same firm as Grandma. Together, the two of them scrimped and saved every penny they made so that when Meg graduated she would be able to attend college.
Meg silently wished they were here to see this room. Grandma would have laughed to see her living, even for just one night, like a princess in a palace. Mom would have been trying to guess what every piece of furniture cost. Cancer claimed them both—Grandma during Meg’s first year of college and her mother two weeks after her college graduation and not a day went by when she didn’t miss them dearly.
A soft knock on the door at her back jarred Meg from her recollections.
“Yes,” she called through the panel.
“I found some clothes that may fit,” Rob replied.
Taking a calming breath, Meg opened the door. The longer she spent in Rob’s presence the more she wanted him. She’d never felt such an immediate or overwhelming attraction to a man.
Rob stood in the doorway with his easy-going, friendly grin. “You’re still dressed,” he said. Reaching for the clothing he offered, Meg silently cursed her trembling hand. Why couldn’t she, just once, be suave and sophisticated, instead of acting like such a hick? Lord only knew what Rob must think of her.
“Meg,” he said lightly, obviously mistaking her distress, “I know it doesn’t help to simply hear the words, but you can trust me. I won’t hurt you.”
“Oh no, Rob.” She stared at his totally kissable lips before catching herself. “I trust you. Really I do. I-I’m just tired. That’s all.” God, what would he do if she leaned forward and kissed him? Shaking the thought from her head, Meg felt her sensible, boring side taking control again.
The slight grin on his face seemed to indicate Rob suddenly understood what her trembling was about.
“Meg,” he whispered, leaning closer to her.
She knew she should take a step back, but she felt as if her feet were sunk in concrete.
“Yes?” she asked softly.
“I’m going to kiss you,” Rob's mouth was inches from hers. Meg could only assume he paused to give her a chance to refuse him if she wanted.
“Thank God,” she murmured, rising up the last two inches until her lips brushed his. She was stunned by the softness of his kiss. She anticipated a rushed, more frantic kiss, which certainly described how she felt, but Rob clearly had other plans. His lips studied hers as if they had the rest of their lives to figure out how to do it right.
“You know,” he whispered against her cheek, placing soft kisses everywhere he touched. “Part of the festivities tomorrow include a kissing contest.”
Breathlessly, Meg replied, “No need to bother. You win.”
Chuckling lightly, Rob tugged at her earlobe with his teeth. “Last year, the winning couple kissed for three and a half hours.”
“Mmmm,” Meg hummed, struggling to comprehend his comments.
“Perhaps we could try to beat that time,” Rob continued whispering, his lips following the curve of her neck before placing soft kisses there. “Of course, it would require some practice.”
“Practice,” Meg repeated, aware she must sound like a mindless droid, before running her hands through his soft brown hair, pulling his lips back to hers. He was talking far too much.
He kissed her again, much more deeply this time, his tongue enticing and teasing hers. His arms were holding her so closely she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. His hands drifted down her back, but the dampness of her clothing seemed to rouse him from their impetuous actions.
Pulling away, he looked down. “You are going to catch a cold if you don’t get out of those wet clothes soon.”
His words caused her face to flush with embarrassment. Despite her desires, she felt her ‘good girl’ upbringing bubbling back to the forefront. Reaching up to hide her blushing cheeks, she whispered, “Oh Rob. What you must think of me?”
Taken aback, he asked, “What?”
“I’m not easy,” her cursed honesty flying out of her mouth before she could hold it back. “I mean, I swear to you, I’ve never gone to a hotel room with a stranger and then started making out with him. Good lord, my mother would kill me. I mean if she were still alive. I’m not that kind of girl.”
For several seconds after her rambling speech, Rob just stared at her and she felt her blushes deepen. No doubt she was blood red by now. Finally, she watched his shoulders begin to shake as he attempted to restrain laughter. When his effort to control his humor failed, he gave into it and his laughs were long and loud.
Angry at being laughed at, Meg narrowed her eyes. “I don’t see what is so funny. Your behavior wasn’t much better. In fact, you were the one who initiated the kiss.”
Rob appeared contrite for hurting her feelings. “You are absolutely right, but Meg, there is no way on earth I will apologize for kissing you. You are far too adorable. In fact, I have every intention of kissing you again, all night if you will let me.”
“But,” she started, but Rob continued, “Meg, I don’t think badly of you at all. You will simply have to trust me when I say in my line of work, I’ve met plenty ‘easy’ women and you could not be more different from them, my dear. I think that is one of the reasons why I’m attracted to you beyond all reason.”
“You are?” Meg was exceedingly pleased with his comment. “I mean I’m attracted to you too. Very much so.”
“Meg,” Rob continued, “Stay with me this weekend.”
“What?” she asked.
“It’s a weekend for romance. I think we’ve established we both desire each other. Why not give ourselves the weekend off from our responsibilities and explore it a bit? Take a break from our real lives, our real personalities.”
“Be who we want to be?” she asked. “Break out of our normal mold?”
“Exactly,” he answered. “Just be ourselves without worrying about the outside world or other people’s expectations of us.”
Rob’s proposal appealed to her more than she cared to admit. She’d spent a lifetime caring for others, her mother and grandmother as they were consumed with cancer, the students in her classroom, even her needy ex-fiancé seemed to want her mothering, which made sense now that she realized some other woman was providing the sex. The idea of taking a weekend for herself, giving herself the chance to do anything she wanted without fear of recrimination was tempting, to say the least.
“Rob,” she said finally. “I really want to sleep with you.”
“Thank God.” And with that, Rob pulled her to him in a deep, passionate kiss.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Mad About Meg Chapter Three
Meg tried to persuade herself she wasn’t making a huge mistake trusting this virtual stranger as they rode the elevator up to his penthouse suite. Fact was if she weren’t so exhausted and completely out of options, nothing on earth would have convinced her to go to a hotel room with a strange man, regardless of how nice he seemed. She simply wasn’t the type of woman to do something so rash and potentially dangerous. She was practical, never-take-a-risk Meg and her friends constantly referred to her as the ‘reliable’ one. Taking this vacation alone was the most daring thing she’d ever done in her life. She felt her cheeks flush as she realized Rob was still holding her hand and had been doing so since they left the bar. His palm was large and warm and surprisingly comforting to her. He was a stranger and yet she felt an immediate connection to him. Almost as if they were kindred spirits. The thought sent a chill down her spine.
Rob, apparently mistaking her shivering for cold, said “Once you get into the room, you can take a nice hot shower and get out of those damp clothes.”
Rather than comforting her, his words had the opposite effect and she felt a strange tingling sensation sweep through her body. Looking at Rob’s incredibly handsome face, she considered what it would be like to let him peel the wet clothes off of her and take a nice hot shower with him. His muscular body and god-like face were certainly awakening parts of her libido she didn’t know she had. Plus he smelled delicious, like a mouth-watering thick juicy steak she couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into. What the hell was she thinking? He was a complete stranger and she had never had a one night stand in her life. She was practical, rational, level-headed. Okay, she thought, I’m boring.
As he unlocked the room, Meg took a steadying breath considering the fact that someone who looked like Rob Mason would never be attracted to someone like her. While not unattractive, she certainly couldn’t hold a candle to the goddess she saw emerging from the limo with Rob earlier. Which reminded her, “What about Lana?” she asked, recalling the woman’s name.
“What about her?” Rob was clearly perplexed by her question.
“Will she mind me sleeping in the next room?”
“I don’t really think it’s any of her business one way or the other,” Rob replied.
“Isn’t she your girlfriend?” Meg finally blurted out, cursing her too straight-forward nature.
Rob laughed at her question before replying, “Good God, no. She’s my secretary. She has a room down on the first floor.”
Cursing herself for the sudden relief flooding her body, she followed him into the suite. Why it should please her that Lana wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity, she didn’t know. It’s not like it improved her chances. She never attracted men in a sexual way and wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to seduce one as hot as Rob Mason. Of course, the weekend was all about romance and it wasn’t like she’d ever see Rob after they left here. Maybe she could break free from her own self-constraints a bit. Live a little. Fact was she suspected Rob would be a terrific teacher in bedroom play. Smiling to herself at the thought, she followed him into the hotel.
“Holy mother,” she exclaimed upon entering as she took in the decadent room.
“Pardon me?” Rob asked, confused by her stunned reaction.
“This hotel suite is bigger than my whole townhouse,” she added, obviously awed by the room. “This place is amazing. Beautiful. Is that a real Grand piano?”
Rob nodded as he glanced around, surprised by her comments. Silently, he wondered if he’d become immune to his lavish lifestyle. The hotel suite, by his standards, was quite simple. He wondered what Meg would think of his castle in England. Grinning at the thought of showing it to her, he shook his head. What was he thinking? He was helping out a young woman down on her luck for one night. Or perhaps more than one night. He felt comfortable in her presence and wondered what it would take to convince her to spend the entire weekend with him. He was enjoying his anonymity and her company very much. He suspected what you saw was what you got with Meg Williams. She was friendly and sincere, with a terrific sense of humor given the fact she could actually joke about her horrible day. In his cut-throat world those traits were uncommon and, given the reaction his body was having to her, apparently incredibly sexy.
“So the company you work for really owns this suite?” she asked, jerking him from his thoughts.
“Yes, they do. Part of the benefits package is that we can take advantage of this place,” he answered, the continued lie beginning to taste bad on his lips. Why he didn’t want to end the charade yet, he couldn’t explain. Somehow, for just tonight, he liked the idea of being plain old Rob Mason, hard-working businessman. It felt good to shed Rob Madison, billionaire bachelor for awhile. He liked the idea of befriending a woman with his personality rather than his checkbook. Unfortunately, his body was making a different sort of demand in regards to Meg Williams and he had to make a quick adjustment of his trousers lest he scare her away.
“It must cost a fortune. I was going to offer to split the room fee for the night, but even half of this,” Meg gestured at the splendid room, “is way out of my price range.”
“You aren’t paying a cent. As I said earlier, the company pays, not me. Makes no difference who stays here. Your bedroom is right up there,” he said pointing to a door four steps up on its own landing. “Mine is over there,” he said pointing in the opposite direction. “Each room has its own private bath. Please feel free to take advantage of the kitchen in the morning. I’ll call down and make sure room service stocks it with something nice for breakfast.”
“Oh no,” she said, “You don’t have to do that. I won’t imposition you for more than tonight, I promise. I’ll pick up breakfast on my way back to the airport.”
“I owe you at least a breakfast,” he replied, uneasy at her mention of the airport, “given the careless way my driver--.”
"Rob,” she interjected. “The car accident didn’t change the fact that this stupid hotel overbooked.”
Rob winced at her words, swallowing down the insult to his property. Fact was the hotel had screwed up her vacation, but he didn’t know how he could convince her it was a five-star hotel with an impeccable record of service and one of the top-ranking on the island without giving away his own interest in it. Damn that idiot Timothy.
“Nonetheless,” he said, “you need a place to stay and I’m able to offer it. That fact is going a long way toward soothing my guilty conscience over the car incident so let’s leave it at that. Besides, look at what I’ve gained. The extra room would have been empty and I wouldn’t have had such lovely company tonight. Now I’ve met a beautiful teacher.”
Meg snorted at his compliment. “Yeah right, a raving beauty,” she said laughing as she ran her fingers through her tangled hair.
Rob grinned. Meg obviously had a problem accepting compliments, another trait he found rather endearing.
“I’m going to order room service. Have you eaten dinner?” he asked.
Meg looked longingly at her bedroom and Rob continued, “It will take awhile for them to prepare it. Why don’t you take a hot shower and I’ll knock when it arrives.”
“Well, that does sound good. I’m starving. Nothing to eat all day, but those damn little packages of peanuts they give you on the plane. And I insist on picking up the tab for dinner since you won’t let me pay for the room.”
Rob shook his head at her stubbornness. “Meals are included with the use of the room. Company policy again.”
Throwing up her hands in defeat, Meg said, “Fine! Order me whatever you’re having. I’m clearly not winning any battles with you tonight. Maybe over dinner you can tell me how I can get a job with this unbelievably generous company you work for.”'
“Ah, surrender,” Rob teased, happy to see her starting to relax with him. “Finally. Go on and get that hot shower. There should be a bathrobe hanging on the door. I’ll dig through my luggage and see if I can find something comfortable for you to sleep in since your clothes are still damp. I’m sure I have a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that would work nicely. In the meantime, I’ll order dinner.”
“Are you sure the kitchen is still open?” she asked. “It’s after two in the morning.”
“It’s open all night,” Rob replied easily. At least it was for him, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Alright then,” she said, dragging her carry-on bag with her. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time,” Rob called out behind her, walking toward the phone to order dinner. He glanced at his own bedroom considering taking a shower himself. Only difference was his would definitely be cold.
Rob, apparently mistaking her shivering for cold, said “Once you get into the room, you can take a nice hot shower and get out of those damp clothes.”
Rather than comforting her, his words had the opposite effect and she felt a strange tingling sensation sweep through her body. Looking at Rob’s incredibly handsome face, she considered what it would be like to let him peel the wet clothes off of her and take a nice hot shower with him. His muscular body and god-like face were certainly awakening parts of her libido she didn’t know she had. Plus he smelled delicious, like a mouth-watering thick juicy steak she couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into. What the hell was she thinking? He was a complete stranger and she had never had a one night stand in her life. She was practical, rational, level-headed. Okay, she thought, I’m boring.
As he unlocked the room, Meg took a steadying breath considering the fact that someone who looked like Rob Mason would never be attracted to someone like her. While not unattractive, she certainly couldn’t hold a candle to the goddess she saw emerging from the limo with Rob earlier. Which reminded her, “What about Lana?” she asked, recalling the woman’s name.
“What about her?” Rob was clearly perplexed by her question.
“Will she mind me sleeping in the next room?”
“I don’t really think it’s any of her business one way or the other,” Rob replied.
“Isn’t she your girlfriend?” Meg finally blurted out, cursing her too straight-forward nature.
Rob laughed at her question before replying, “Good God, no. She’s my secretary. She has a room down on the first floor.”
Cursing herself for the sudden relief flooding her body, she followed him into the suite. Why it should please her that Lana wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity, she didn’t know. It’s not like it improved her chances. She never attracted men in a sexual way and wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to seduce one as hot as Rob Mason. Of course, the weekend was all about romance and it wasn’t like she’d ever see Rob after they left here. Maybe she could break free from her own self-constraints a bit. Live a little. Fact was she suspected Rob would be a terrific teacher in bedroom play. Smiling to herself at the thought, she followed him into the hotel.
“Holy mother,” she exclaimed upon entering as she took in the decadent room.
“Pardon me?” Rob asked, confused by her stunned reaction.
“This hotel suite is bigger than my whole townhouse,” she added, obviously awed by the room. “This place is amazing. Beautiful. Is that a real Grand piano?”
Rob nodded as he glanced around, surprised by her comments. Silently, he wondered if he’d become immune to his lavish lifestyle. The hotel suite, by his standards, was quite simple. He wondered what Meg would think of his castle in England. Grinning at the thought of showing it to her, he shook his head. What was he thinking? He was helping out a young woman down on her luck for one night. Or perhaps more than one night. He felt comfortable in her presence and wondered what it would take to convince her to spend the entire weekend with him. He was enjoying his anonymity and her company very much. He suspected what you saw was what you got with Meg Williams. She was friendly and sincere, with a terrific sense of humor given the fact she could actually joke about her horrible day. In his cut-throat world those traits were uncommon and, given the reaction his body was having to her, apparently incredibly sexy.
“So the company you work for really owns this suite?” she asked, jerking him from his thoughts.
“Yes, they do. Part of the benefits package is that we can take advantage of this place,” he answered, the continued lie beginning to taste bad on his lips. Why he didn’t want to end the charade yet, he couldn’t explain. Somehow, for just tonight, he liked the idea of being plain old Rob Mason, hard-working businessman. It felt good to shed Rob Madison, billionaire bachelor for awhile. He liked the idea of befriending a woman with his personality rather than his checkbook. Unfortunately, his body was making a different sort of demand in regards to Meg Williams and he had to make a quick adjustment of his trousers lest he scare her away.
“It must cost a fortune. I was going to offer to split the room fee for the night, but even half of this,” Meg gestured at the splendid room, “is way out of my price range.”
“You aren’t paying a cent. As I said earlier, the company pays, not me. Makes no difference who stays here. Your bedroom is right up there,” he said pointing to a door four steps up on its own landing. “Mine is over there,” he said pointing in the opposite direction. “Each room has its own private bath. Please feel free to take advantage of the kitchen in the morning. I’ll call down and make sure room service stocks it with something nice for breakfast.”
“Oh no,” she said, “You don’t have to do that. I won’t imposition you for more than tonight, I promise. I’ll pick up breakfast on my way back to the airport.”
“I owe you at least a breakfast,” he replied, uneasy at her mention of the airport, “given the careless way my driver--.”
"Rob,” she interjected. “The car accident didn’t change the fact that this stupid hotel overbooked.”
Rob winced at her words, swallowing down the insult to his property. Fact was the hotel had screwed up her vacation, but he didn’t know how he could convince her it was a five-star hotel with an impeccable record of service and one of the top-ranking on the island without giving away his own interest in it. Damn that idiot Timothy.
“Nonetheless,” he said, “you need a place to stay and I’m able to offer it. That fact is going a long way toward soothing my guilty conscience over the car incident so let’s leave it at that. Besides, look at what I’ve gained. The extra room would have been empty and I wouldn’t have had such lovely company tonight. Now I’ve met a beautiful teacher.”
Meg snorted at his compliment. “Yeah right, a raving beauty,” she said laughing as she ran her fingers through her tangled hair.
Rob grinned. Meg obviously had a problem accepting compliments, another trait he found rather endearing.
“I’m going to order room service. Have you eaten dinner?” he asked.
Meg looked longingly at her bedroom and Rob continued, “It will take awhile for them to prepare it. Why don’t you take a hot shower and I’ll knock when it arrives.”
“Well, that does sound good. I’m starving. Nothing to eat all day, but those damn little packages of peanuts they give you on the plane. And I insist on picking up the tab for dinner since you won’t let me pay for the room.”
Rob shook his head at her stubbornness. “Meals are included with the use of the room. Company policy again.”
Throwing up her hands in defeat, Meg said, “Fine! Order me whatever you’re having. I’m clearly not winning any battles with you tonight. Maybe over dinner you can tell me how I can get a job with this unbelievably generous company you work for.”'
“Ah, surrender,” Rob teased, happy to see her starting to relax with him. “Finally. Go on and get that hot shower. There should be a bathrobe hanging on the door. I’ll dig through my luggage and see if I can find something comfortable for you to sleep in since your clothes are still damp. I’m sure I have a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that would work nicely. In the meantime, I’ll order dinner.”
“Are you sure the kitchen is still open?” she asked. “It’s after two in the morning.”
“It’s open all night,” Rob replied easily. At least it was for him, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Alright then,” she said, dragging her carry-on bag with her. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time,” Rob called out behind her, walking toward the phone to order dinner. He glanced at his own bedroom considering taking a shower himself. Only difference was his would definitely be cold.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Mad about Meg Chapter Two
Rob watched the petite blonde who had attacked his driver so fiercely limp toward the hotel bar. After she left him in the parking lot, Rob questioned George about the incident, only to discover that his foolish chauffer had indeed run the poor woman off the road. George, a last minute replacement for his regular chauffer, had apparently thought to impress Rob by getting him to the hotel from the airport in record time. The only problem was Rob had been too tired to notice the man’s reckless attempt. He didn’t want to confess to the angry woman that he had nodded off and had actually been asleep during her terrible ordeal.
“Ah, Mr. Madison,” Pierre greeted him from behind the desk with a genuine smile. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you Pierre. It was quite a trip, I’m afraid. Everything okay here?” Rob couldn’t help, but look back toward the bar. The blonde had disappeared inside.
Noticing his glance, Pierre looked uneasy.
“I’m afraid the infamous Timothy has struck again.”
Rob had to fight to restrain a growl from emerging. Timothy had served as the reservation clerk for one month, until it came to the attention of Pierre, the hotel manager that he was imputing all the information into the computer wrong. As a result, none of the reservations taken during the idiotic man’s four weeks of employment were recorded.
“I thought we’d taken precautions against this?” Rob glanced back toward the bar where his hapless blonde had disappeared.
“Yes, sir. We hold back four rooms every night just in case. This weekend I kept eight rooms open, however, with it being so busy--”
“You’ve already given away all of those rooms.”
“And then some,” Pierre confessed. “I just sent a couple to the Wakefield Resort. I’ve called all over the island and there truly isn’t another room to be had. I was just thinking to myself that perhaps we were safe when she walked in.”
“Terrific.” Rob rubbed his hands over his travel weary face. He’d been in negotiations to purchase property in New York all week. Delay after delay kept him from leaving until finally this afternoon, with the ink still drying on the contract, he headed for his private jet, ready for some serious rest and relaxation. The last 36 months had been nonstop business meetings, conferences, and charity events and he was taking some well-earned vacation time. Glancing at his watch he considered leaving the woman to her own devices for a split second before turning and making his way toward the hotel bar.
The bar was fairly quiet and Rob could only assume most folks were resting up for the festivities set to begin tomorrow. He found her in a quiet corner nursing a drink and shivering. Stopping by the bar, he asked Todd, the bartender for his usual.
“And another one of whatever that young lady is having.” He gestured to the pretty young woman.
Todd smiled at his request. “Yes sir. A martini and another Scarlett O’Hara.”
Picking up the drinks, Rob studied her as he approached her table. Her face was truly lovely. She had a wholesome, girl-next-door look he found surprisingly appealing. Spending so much of his time with women who spent a small fortune on cosmetic surgery, personal trainers, and make-up, he found her natural appearance refreshing. Her long blonde hair was still damp from her run in the rain, but as it dried, natural ringlets appeared and he imagined it was quite thick and soft. She had a healthy red glow on her cheeks, no doubt from the running or perhaps the cold. Rob felt an instant attraction to her, something he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. She shivered again and Rob shook himself out of his reverie.
“Excuse me.” He graced her with the most charming, least threatening smile he could muster. No doubt, he had some making up to do.
“Hello again.” Her voice was soft, her tone distinctly friendlier than he expected.
“I was hoping I could join you for a few minutes.” He gestured to the two drinks in his hands.
Nodding, she pointed to the seat across from her. “Sure.”
“Peace offering.” He placed the red drink he’d bought in front of hers, hoping his joke might work.
Moving her empty glass out of the way, she smiled. “That wasn’t necessary.”
“I’m afraid it was,” Rob answered. “My driver’s actions were reprehensible.”
She interrupted him. “No, please, you don’t have to apologize. I’m terribly embarrassed by my behavior. I’m sure you won’t believe this, but I’m typically not such a hateful bitch.”
“I didn’t think you were anything of the sort.” Rob was surprised by her apology. If anyone was in the wrong, it was clearly him, or at least George.
“Thank you for the drink.” She grinned before picking it up, silently toasting him and sipping it.
He had to laugh as he studied her drink. “Scarlett O’Hara?”
“It’s my favorite. Cranberry juice and Southern Comfort. I was planning on drinking only fruity, island concoctions, but after the day’s events, I needed a stiff drink.”
“Ah, I see,” Rob said. “If I’m not mistaken, do I detect a bit of a southern accent?”
“Just a bit. I’m from Northern Virginia. Most folks there can’t decide if they’re northerners or southerners! I like to refer to myself as a middler. How about you? Where do you hang up your hat?”
“Everywhere,” Rob answered honestly. “My work keeps me traveling pretty much non-stop.”
“And during your childhood?”
“Army brat.” It wasn’t difficult to acknowledge that he truly didn’t have roots anywhere in the world. He owned homes on both coasts as well as in three different countries, but he never spent more than a month at a time in any of them. Watching her try to hide her shivering, he stood and took off his suit jacket.
“Here.” He draped it around her shoulders. “You’re about to shake yourself off that chair.”
She started to protest, but he cut her off, “I insist.”
“Thank you. So what’s this business of yours that doesn’t allow you to settle down?”
Rob was taken aback by the question. Surely she knew who he was. Looking closely at her, he determined she truly didn’t know him. Used to being recognized instantly, Rob silently savored this anonymity.
“Uh,” he stumbled, unwilling to give up this unique experience. “Just a businessman. Real estate and that kind of thing.” He realized his answer was vague at best.
“You must do well, given your mode of transportation.”
“Company car.” He wasn’t so sure why he was intent on keeping up pretenses. For some strange reason, he liked the way this tired, petite woman looked at him. She was talking to him as an equal, almost treating him as you would a new friend. Her eyes weren’t filled with dollar signs, trying to figure out how much he was really worth. Silently he laughed at himself. He spent nearly a decade amassing more wealth than he could ever spend, earning and demanding the respect of his peers, yet here he was down-playing his career successes so he could continue this simple, friendly conversation.
“How about you? What job keeps you tied to the middle of the country?”
She laughed. “Oh, I have a terribly exciting job. I’m a special ed. teacher.”
Rob didn’t share her laughter. “It may not be what you consider exciting, but I can’t imagine anything more worthwhile.”
At his compliment, she gave him the most genuine smile he’d ever received. “I happen to agree with you. I love my kids and my job.”
“Are you with a private facility?” He was shocked to find himself so interested in learning everything he could about this fascinating young woman.
“Oh, heck no,” she said with a grin, “public education all the way. I teach at a high school.”
“Ah,” he teased, “I see now how you can afford such a fancy vacation. Making the big bucks as a public servant. Is Valentine’s Day considered a national holiday for the school system?”
She giggled lightly before her smile turned to a grimace. “I saved up all my vacation days for this trip, and truth be told, I’ll be paying this ill-fated adventure off my credit card for many years to come.”
“Ill-fated.” He recalled that for all intents and purposes, she was homeless for the night.
“You couldn’t believe my last 24 hours.”
“Try me.”
Where to begin?” Her laugh was strained. “Due to mechanical problems, my first flight was re-routed to Houston and delayed long enough that I missed my original connecting flight in Florida. My scheduled seven hours of travel time turned into 21.”
“Ouch.” He was teasing, but she continued.
“I broke my cell phone, my luggage is somewhere in Timbuktu, the sporty little convertible I reserved weeks ago was downgraded to an ancient mini-van that your chauffeur left in a ditch a half a mile down the road. My sunny paradise has turned into hurricane hell and I have nowhere to stay tonight as this so-called luxury resort lost my reservation. Please bear in mind that is just today’s run of bad luck and doesn’t include the fact that I am alone in this damned lover’s paradise because I caught my fiancé cheating on me on Christmas Eve and my plane fare was nonrefundable.” She spoke with a lightheartedness he couldn’t understand given her horrible experiences.
“Wow.” He wasn’t sure how to respond and was shocked further when she simply laughed at his reply.
“My sentiments exactly.”
“So.” He looked at her calmly sitting in the hotel bar and wondered at her poise. “What’s your plan?”
She seemed to consider his question before replying. “That’s actually what I was trying to work out when you came in. I thought I’d drink a little courage.” She lifted her drink to her lips again.
“Courage?”
“Well, I figure the liquor will serve two purposes. One, it will warm me up on the inside before I have to run back out into the freezing cold rain again. And two, hopefully it will get me drunk enough that it won’t bother me to sleep in my lousy rental car by the side of the road.”
“That’s your brilliant plan?” He was angry at the recklessness of it.
“I don’t remember calling it brilliant. Simply a plan.” Her humor in the face of such a dreary and potentially dangerous night began grating on his nerves. “I only have to make it through the next few hours and then I’ll call the car rental place about towing me out of the ditch and I’ll catch the next flight out of here. Guess that will teach me for trying to live like the rich and famous for a few days.”
Rob sat silently for several minutes brooding over the fact he was one of the rich and famous she was referring to and feeling incredibly guilty as he pictured in his mind the luxurious penthouse suite awaiting him. One of the perks of owning the hotel.
“You can’t sleep in your car.”
“I don’t think that guy out there.” She pointed toward Pierre at the front desk. “Would like it if I sacked out on the couch in the foyer. This place doesn’t exactly strike me as the type that would cater to vagrancy.”
“You’ll stay with me.” The words came without thought, but Rob found himself immediately warming up to the idea of spending more time with this refreshingly pleasant woman.
“Oh, now hang on a minute.” She threw her hands up. “I appreciate the drink, but there’s no way--”
He didn’t let her finish her protests. “Hear me out,” he said quickly. “My company owns the penthouse of this hotel. It’s a two bedroom suite. You can have the other room for tonight. It even has its own bathroom. You can lock the door and pretend like it’s your own hotel room. There is simply no way I’m going to let you sleep on the side of a busy road in the middle of a storm.”
“There isn’t much traffic out there now with all the rain.” Her argument weak at best and Rob knew she knew it.
“I’m serious. You’ve had a hell of a day and an unbelievably long string of bad luck. Why not give yourself a break?
“With my luck such as it is,” she added, “I’d probably get rear-ended by a tractor-trailer.”
“Exactly,” he answered. “You have to admit my plan is better than yours and a hell of a lot safer.”
“That remains to be seen.” Rob considered the fact that she was seriously debating turning him down. He’d never had to beg a woman to share a room with him. Hell, most nights he was the one having hotel keys thrust at him. After all, he was Rob Madison, owner of this and a string of other luxury hotels all over the world. He had topped Fortune’s list of most eligible billionaires the last three years running. He watched as she chewed on her lower lip, clearly nervous about his proposition. He supposed from her perspective he was a stranger and she would be consenting to sharing a hotel suite with him.
“The bedroom door locks?” She grimaced as soon as she realized the insult. “I mean, I just--”
“It locks.” He offered her what he hoped looked like a friendly grin. “If it makes you feel any better, you can ask Pierre to call every hour to check and make sure I haven’t ravished you yet.”
Rising slowly, she nodded her agreement. “Well, okay, but just for tonight.”
Incredibly pleased with her response, he reached for her hand and she let him pull her forward a few feet before he suddenly stopping. “You know. I don’t even know your name.”
“Meg Williams”
“Short for Megan?”
She crinkled her nose in an adorable fashion. “No, actually it’s short for Margaret, but don’t you dare call me that.”
“Family name, Margaret?”
“My mother’s favorite book was Gone with the Wind and for some unknown reason she selected my name in honor of Margaret Mitchell, the author.”
“And I’m assuming from your tone that wouldn’t have been your choice?”
“For Pete’s sake! Of all the names associated with that book, she lands on Margaret? What’s wrong with Melanie or Katie Scarlett, even?” Meg asked with a laugh. “Of course, it could have been worse, I suppose.”
“Oh, how so?”
“If I had been a boy, she was going to name me Mitchell.”
Laughing, Rob took her hand again leading her to the elevator before she pulled him up short.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Looking around, Rob shrugged, wondering what he could have forgotten.
“Your name?”
“Ah, Rob.” He paused for only a moment before adding a little white lie. “Mason. Rob Mason.”
From the corner of his eye, he caught Pierre’s startled glance, but he ignored him and the guilt associated with his look.
Meg offered her hand in introduction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rob Mason.”
“Ah, Mr. Madison,” Pierre greeted him from behind the desk with a genuine smile. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you Pierre. It was quite a trip, I’m afraid. Everything okay here?” Rob couldn’t help, but look back toward the bar. The blonde had disappeared inside.
Noticing his glance, Pierre looked uneasy.
“I’m afraid the infamous Timothy has struck again.”
Rob had to fight to restrain a growl from emerging. Timothy had served as the reservation clerk for one month, until it came to the attention of Pierre, the hotel manager that he was imputing all the information into the computer wrong. As a result, none of the reservations taken during the idiotic man’s four weeks of employment were recorded.
“I thought we’d taken precautions against this?” Rob glanced back toward the bar where his hapless blonde had disappeared.
“Yes, sir. We hold back four rooms every night just in case. This weekend I kept eight rooms open, however, with it being so busy--”
“You’ve already given away all of those rooms.”
“And then some,” Pierre confessed. “I just sent a couple to the Wakefield Resort. I’ve called all over the island and there truly isn’t another room to be had. I was just thinking to myself that perhaps we were safe when she walked in.”
“Terrific.” Rob rubbed his hands over his travel weary face. He’d been in negotiations to purchase property in New York all week. Delay after delay kept him from leaving until finally this afternoon, with the ink still drying on the contract, he headed for his private jet, ready for some serious rest and relaxation. The last 36 months had been nonstop business meetings, conferences, and charity events and he was taking some well-earned vacation time. Glancing at his watch he considered leaving the woman to her own devices for a split second before turning and making his way toward the hotel bar.
The bar was fairly quiet and Rob could only assume most folks were resting up for the festivities set to begin tomorrow. He found her in a quiet corner nursing a drink and shivering. Stopping by the bar, he asked Todd, the bartender for his usual.
“And another one of whatever that young lady is having.” He gestured to the pretty young woman.
Todd smiled at his request. “Yes sir. A martini and another Scarlett O’Hara.”
Picking up the drinks, Rob studied her as he approached her table. Her face was truly lovely. She had a wholesome, girl-next-door look he found surprisingly appealing. Spending so much of his time with women who spent a small fortune on cosmetic surgery, personal trainers, and make-up, he found her natural appearance refreshing. Her long blonde hair was still damp from her run in the rain, but as it dried, natural ringlets appeared and he imagined it was quite thick and soft. She had a healthy red glow on her cheeks, no doubt from the running or perhaps the cold. Rob felt an instant attraction to her, something he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. She shivered again and Rob shook himself out of his reverie.
“Excuse me.” He graced her with the most charming, least threatening smile he could muster. No doubt, he had some making up to do.
“Hello again.” Her voice was soft, her tone distinctly friendlier than he expected.
“I was hoping I could join you for a few minutes.” He gestured to the two drinks in his hands.
Nodding, she pointed to the seat across from her. “Sure.”
“Peace offering.” He placed the red drink he’d bought in front of hers, hoping his joke might work.
Moving her empty glass out of the way, she smiled. “That wasn’t necessary.”
“I’m afraid it was,” Rob answered. “My driver’s actions were reprehensible.”
She interrupted him. “No, please, you don’t have to apologize. I’m terribly embarrassed by my behavior. I’m sure you won’t believe this, but I’m typically not such a hateful bitch.”
“I didn’t think you were anything of the sort.” Rob was surprised by her apology. If anyone was in the wrong, it was clearly him, or at least George.
“Thank you for the drink.” She grinned before picking it up, silently toasting him and sipping it.
He had to laugh as he studied her drink. “Scarlett O’Hara?”
“It’s my favorite. Cranberry juice and Southern Comfort. I was planning on drinking only fruity, island concoctions, but after the day’s events, I needed a stiff drink.”
“Ah, I see,” Rob said. “If I’m not mistaken, do I detect a bit of a southern accent?”
“Just a bit. I’m from Northern Virginia. Most folks there can’t decide if they’re northerners or southerners! I like to refer to myself as a middler. How about you? Where do you hang up your hat?”
“Everywhere,” Rob answered honestly. “My work keeps me traveling pretty much non-stop.”
“And during your childhood?”
“Army brat.” It wasn’t difficult to acknowledge that he truly didn’t have roots anywhere in the world. He owned homes on both coasts as well as in three different countries, but he never spent more than a month at a time in any of them. Watching her try to hide her shivering, he stood and took off his suit jacket.
“Here.” He draped it around her shoulders. “You’re about to shake yourself off that chair.”
She started to protest, but he cut her off, “I insist.”
“Thank you. So what’s this business of yours that doesn’t allow you to settle down?”
Rob was taken aback by the question. Surely she knew who he was. Looking closely at her, he determined she truly didn’t know him. Used to being recognized instantly, Rob silently savored this anonymity.
“Uh,” he stumbled, unwilling to give up this unique experience. “Just a businessman. Real estate and that kind of thing.” He realized his answer was vague at best.
“You must do well, given your mode of transportation.”
“Company car.” He wasn’t so sure why he was intent on keeping up pretenses. For some strange reason, he liked the way this tired, petite woman looked at him. She was talking to him as an equal, almost treating him as you would a new friend. Her eyes weren’t filled with dollar signs, trying to figure out how much he was really worth. Silently he laughed at himself. He spent nearly a decade amassing more wealth than he could ever spend, earning and demanding the respect of his peers, yet here he was down-playing his career successes so he could continue this simple, friendly conversation.
“How about you? What job keeps you tied to the middle of the country?”
She laughed. “Oh, I have a terribly exciting job. I’m a special ed. teacher.”
Rob didn’t share her laughter. “It may not be what you consider exciting, but I can’t imagine anything more worthwhile.”
At his compliment, she gave him the most genuine smile he’d ever received. “I happen to agree with you. I love my kids and my job.”
“Are you with a private facility?” He was shocked to find himself so interested in learning everything he could about this fascinating young woman.
“Oh, heck no,” she said with a grin, “public education all the way. I teach at a high school.”
“Ah,” he teased, “I see now how you can afford such a fancy vacation. Making the big bucks as a public servant. Is Valentine’s Day considered a national holiday for the school system?”
She giggled lightly before her smile turned to a grimace. “I saved up all my vacation days for this trip, and truth be told, I’ll be paying this ill-fated adventure off my credit card for many years to come.”
“Ill-fated.” He recalled that for all intents and purposes, she was homeless for the night.
“You couldn’t believe my last 24 hours.”
“Try me.”
Where to begin?” Her laugh was strained. “Due to mechanical problems, my first flight was re-routed to Houston and delayed long enough that I missed my original connecting flight in Florida. My scheduled seven hours of travel time turned into 21.”
“Ouch.” He was teasing, but she continued.
“I broke my cell phone, my luggage is somewhere in Timbuktu, the sporty little convertible I reserved weeks ago was downgraded to an ancient mini-van that your chauffeur left in a ditch a half a mile down the road. My sunny paradise has turned into hurricane hell and I have nowhere to stay tonight as this so-called luxury resort lost my reservation. Please bear in mind that is just today’s run of bad luck and doesn’t include the fact that I am alone in this damned lover’s paradise because I caught my fiancé cheating on me on Christmas Eve and my plane fare was nonrefundable.” She spoke with a lightheartedness he couldn’t understand given her horrible experiences.
“Wow.” He wasn’t sure how to respond and was shocked further when she simply laughed at his reply.
“My sentiments exactly.”
“So.” He looked at her calmly sitting in the hotel bar and wondered at her poise. “What’s your plan?”
She seemed to consider his question before replying. “That’s actually what I was trying to work out when you came in. I thought I’d drink a little courage.” She lifted her drink to her lips again.
“Courage?”
“Well, I figure the liquor will serve two purposes. One, it will warm me up on the inside before I have to run back out into the freezing cold rain again. And two, hopefully it will get me drunk enough that it won’t bother me to sleep in my lousy rental car by the side of the road.”
“That’s your brilliant plan?” He was angry at the recklessness of it.
“I don’t remember calling it brilliant. Simply a plan.” Her humor in the face of such a dreary and potentially dangerous night began grating on his nerves. “I only have to make it through the next few hours and then I’ll call the car rental place about towing me out of the ditch and I’ll catch the next flight out of here. Guess that will teach me for trying to live like the rich and famous for a few days.”
Rob sat silently for several minutes brooding over the fact he was one of the rich and famous she was referring to and feeling incredibly guilty as he pictured in his mind the luxurious penthouse suite awaiting him. One of the perks of owning the hotel.
“You can’t sleep in your car.”
“I don’t think that guy out there.” She pointed toward Pierre at the front desk. “Would like it if I sacked out on the couch in the foyer. This place doesn’t exactly strike me as the type that would cater to vagrancy.”
“You’ll stay with me.” The words came without thought, but Rob found himself immediately warming up to the idea of spending more time with this refreshingly pleasant woman.
“Oh, now hang on a minute.” She threw her hands up. “I appreciate the drink, but there’s no way--”
He didn’t let her finish her protests. “Hear me out,” he said quickly. “My company owns the penthouse of this hotel. It’s a two bedroom suite. You can have the other room for tonight. It even has its own bathroom. You can lock the door and pretend like it’s your own hotel room. There is simply no way I’m going to let you sleep on the side of a busy road in the middle of a storm.”
“There isn’t much traffic out there now with all the rain.” Her argument weak at best and Rob knew she knew it.
“I’m serious. You’ve had a hell of a day and an unbelievably long string of bad luck. Why not give yourself a break?
“With my luck such as it is,” she added, “I’d probably get rear-ended by a tractor-trailer.”
“Exactly,” he answered. “You have to admit my plan is better than yours and a hell of a lot safer.”
“That remains to be seen.” Rob considered the fact that she was seriously debating turning him down. He’d never had to beg a woman to share a room with him. Hell, most nights he was the one having hotel keys thrust at him. After all, he was Rob Madison, owner of this and a string of other luxury hotels all over the world. He had topped Fortune’s list of most eligible billionaires the last three years running. He watched as she chewed on her lower lip, clearly nervous about his proposition. He supposed from her perspective he was a stranger and she would be consenting to sharing a hotel suite with him.
“The bedroom door locks?” She grimaced as soon as she realized the insult. “I mean, I just--”
“It locks.” He offered her what he hoped looked like a friendly grin. “If it makes you feel any better, you can ask Pierre to call every hour to check and make sure I haven’t ravished you yet.”
Rising slowly, she nodded her agreement. “Well, okay, but just for tonight.”
Incredibly pleased with her response, he reached for her hand and she let him pull her forward a few feet before he suddenly stopping. “You know. I don’t even know your name.”
“Meg Williams”
“Short for Megan?”
She crinkled her nose in an adorable fashion. “No, actually it’s short for Margaret, but don’t you dare call me that.”
“Family name, Margaret?”
“My mother’s favorite book was Gone with the Wind and for some unknown reason she selected my name in honor of Margaret Mitchell, the author.”
“And I’m assuming from your tone that wouldn’t have been your choice?”
“For Pete’s sake! Of all the names associated with that book, she lands on Margaret? What’s wrong with Melanie or Katie Scarlett, even?” Meg asked with a laugh. “Of course, it could have been worse, I suppose.”
“Oh, how so?”
“If I had been a boy, she was going to name me Mitchell.”
Laughing, Rob took her hand again leading her to the elevator before she pulled him up short.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Looking around, Rob shrugged, wondering what he could have forgotten.
“Your name?”
“Ah, Rob.” He paused for only a moment before adding a little white lie. “Mason. Rob Mason.”
From the corner of his eye, he caught Pierre’s startled glance, but he ignored him and the guilt associated with his look.
Meg offered her hand in introduction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rob Mason.”
Monday, April 28, 2008
Mad About Meg Chapter One
“What do you mean you don’t have my rental car anymore? I called weeks ago to reserve it,” Meg asked exasperatedly. Her flight to Eden Isle had taken three times longer than it was supposed to due to an oncoming storm and an unexpected layover in Houston because of some faulty gauge on her first connecting flight.
“Yes ma’am, I’m sure you did, but as I said before, when you didn’t arrive by five o’clock we rented it to someone else. This policy was stated in the rental agreement you signed,” the harried clerk answered.
The airport was packed even though it was midnight on Thursday. Every Valentine’s Day weekend, the small tropical island hosted its own romance fest called Cupid’s Carnival. Meg watched a program about it on the Travel Channel over Thanksgiving break. At the time, she thought the romantic escape was just the salve she and her fiancé needed to spice up their waning relationship. She immediately began saving her money and booked their nonrefundable escape to Eden Isle the second weekend in February as a surprise. The nonrefundable part didn’t bother her until she caught her two-timing boyfriend unwrapping another woman under the tree on Christmas Eve. Unwilling and unable to justify losing such a tremendous amount of money, she decided to forge ahead with her long, romantic weekend, sans the romantic part. If nothing else, the trip to the island was a welcome break from work and winter weather and she could use the long weekend to figure out where in the hell she had gone so wrong with her life.
Unfortunately, her real-life experience wasn’t turning out to be the sun, fun, and fiesta the program promised. She’d already missed her first whole day of vacation, spending it on overcrowded planes and waiting in interminable airport lines rather than lounging by the pool at her resort hotel drinking fruity drinks with umbrellas in them. Then to add insult to injury, she’d spent the last two hours waiting for her luggage which apparently was, at this very moment, on a slow boat to China. An extremely annoying airline agent was now in possession of her name and hotel information with plans to send her luggage on “just as soon as we find it.” Yeah right. Chances were good she would be back in Virginia before it ever made an appearance.
“Do you have any cars left?” Meg asked disappointedly. She specifically rented a convertible sports car, looking forward to four days of cruising around the island with the top down.
“I have one vehicle left.” The clerk was clearly relieved she wasn’t going to kick up more of a fuss. Quite frankly, she was too tired to complain. “It’s a very roomy mini-van.”
“Terrific,” Meg answered with a sarcastic smile, “just what I need, seating for seven when there’s only little old me and no luggage.”
Signing all the appropriate forms, Meg waited inside the door of the airport while an employee of the rental agency fetched her mini-van. She killed the time trying to recall exactly what she’d put in her carry-on bag as she waited. No more clothes, she thought, glancing down at the comfortable travel outfit she’d worn. Having spent the last 22 hours in it, she quite frankly would have preferred to burn it rather than have to wear it again tomorrow. She had all her money--thank goodness, her camera, her passport and hotel information, aspirin—hallelujah, and her now useless cell phone. She’d dropped and broken it while waiting for her connecting flight in Florida. Yep, she thought, I’m now officially in Hell.
Finally, the employee pulled up with what the rental agent had referred to as ‘a fine car.’ Clearly, her definition of ‘fine’ varied somewhat from the agent’s. If she had any strength left in her body, she would go back and beat the guy over the head with her busted cell phone. Looking down at the directions to her hotel, she silently said a prayer that the heap of junk in front of her would make it the ten miles she needed to drive.
“Here you go, miss.” The young valet offered her a smile she felt the incredible urge to run her fist through. “Welcome to Eden Isle.”
As if on cue, the sky opened up and rain began to come down in a deluge that had her soaked in less than ten seconds. Now dripping wet and cold, she climbed into the monstrous van, prayed the windshield wipers worked, and made her way out of the airport parking lot with her head pounding and her teeth chattering.
After thirty minutes of poor visibility and two missed turns, she finally found the right road. According to her directions, she was only a mile from her destination. A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearly 1 a.m. Thunder and lightning was now accompanying the pounding rain and the deafening sound of it was only adding to the pressure building behind her eyes. She should have taken a couple of those aspirin back at the airport.
Bright lights in her rear view mirror blinded her for a moment as a car came up behind her too quickly for her comfort. She knew she was driving slowly, but the visibility was practically zero and she had no idea where she was going.
“You’ll just have to hold your horses, hot shot,” she murmured to the car now riding her rear bumper.
“Back off, asshole.” The car continued to drive too close. She tapped on her brake lights twice hoping the driver would get the message, but the car continued to crowd her.
Apparently tired of tailgating, the car crossed the double yellow line and began to pass her. She was even more annoyed when she realized it was an enormous limousine.
“Oh perfect,” she mumbled, “Rich boy too important to wait.”
Suddenly a pair of headlights approached from the opposite lane and Meg’s heart stopped in her chest as she watched the limo speed up to pass her before careening head-on with the other car. All she could see before slamming on the brakes was the limo’s license plate—MAD 1—taunting her. Meg swerved off the road and into a ditch as the limo began coming back into her lane before fully completing his pass. The car came to a relatively easy stop despite the fact Meg was screaming her head off and not really focusing on her driving. Looking up, she saw the limo continue down the road, the taillights of the other vehicle disappearing behind her.
“What kind of place is this?” She’d literally been run off the road in the middle of the night and left alone. If she ever got her hands on that limo driver, she’d kill him.
Taking a deep breath and trying to still her shaking hands, she hit the gas in an attempt to pull back out onto the road. Spinning tires greeted her and no amount of gear-switching would budge the car.
“Shit!” she screamed to the cavernous car. Grabbing her carry-on bag and throwing it over her shoulder, she climbed out of the car, kicking the tire as she passed to stalk down the road toward her hotel. If she’d been thinking clearly, she would never have left the safety of the car, but adrenalin and anger had kicked in and she was more furious than she’d ever been in her life.
After ten minutes of trudging through the mud and the rain, the gods smiled on her as she saw the sign for her hotel. Picking up the pace, she sprinted across the dark parking lot. As she approached the front door of the hotel, she spotted MAD-1 sitting under the covered entry way.
The stress of the day broke free as she watched the young chauffeur get out of the driver’s seat to open the back door. Meg saw red as she headed for the man who made her wreck her lousy rental car. Out of the corner of her eye she watched a man and woman emerge from the car, but her entire focus concentrated on the cocky blond driver. Walking up to him, she put a finger in his chest and let loose.
“You stupid, ignorant, son of a bitch,” she screamed at the startled man. “You could have killed me. You aren’t fit to drive a bicycle, let alone a limo. And as if that’s not bad enough, you leave me stuck in a damn ditch by the side of the road in a storm in the middle of the night. I should call the police and have you arrested for reckless driving. I should—”
“Excuse me, miss,” a calm voice said behind her. Turning suddenly, Meg looked up into the face of one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in her life. Standing behind him with her mouth agape was his perfect female counterpart--an equally beautiful--actually stunning--brunette. Unfortunately, the man’s extraordinarily pleasing visage only deepened her fury as she took in the dry, immaculate, not-a-hair-out-of-place appearances of him and his lovely companion.
“And you!” Meg could hear the hateful words spew from her mouth, yet she was unable to stop them. “You sit in that goddamned car like some kind of king and don’t even tell him to stop. Clearly you must have more money than brains considering you would hire him to drive your fancy car like Jeff Gordon, taking out anyone else who gets in the way.”
“I’m afraid I’m not sure what you are talking about,” the man answered smoothly despite her insults.
Further angered by his calm demeanor after nearly causing her serious injury, she continued berating him. “Sure you don’t. That man runs me off the road not 10 minutes ago and you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about.”
The man glanced sharply at his driver. “George, is this true?”
Looking at his feet, the young chauffer appeared chagrined by his actions. “I didn’t know she ran off the road.”
“You didn’t know? Did you pull over to check?”
“We were on a tight schedule,” George mumbled. “Already late.”
“Rob.” The attractive woman from the limousine was clearly uncomfortable with the coming confrontation. “I’m going to go in if you don’t need me anymore tonight.”
“Of course, Lana,” Rob replied, “it’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night,” Lana purred softly before making her elegant departure. Meg had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes at the woman’s red carpet worthy performance and the two men gawking at her pert little behind as she strolled away.
“And the Oscar goes to…” she mumbled.
“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Gorgeous asked.
“Christ,” she muttered as all the fight left her. “Forget it. I’m wet, cold, hungry, tired and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about any of this anymore. Bye.” Meg was well aware that her departure, unlike Lana’s, was less than stellar with water streaming off her now see-through pink blouse and linen pants, mud squishing between the toes of the sandals she had foolishly donned in the Florida airport, and her mass of curly blond hair dripping wet and hanging in her face.
“Miss,” the elegant man named Rob called out to her, but Meg kept walking. The end of her hellish day was in sight and nothing was going to stop her from soaking in a nice hot bath, crawling between the soft cotton sheets of her king-sized bed, and sleeping until noon.
The night clerk at the front desk seemed to take in her dirty, wet appearance with disdain. “May I help you, ma’am?”
“Yes.” Meg rummaged through her damp bag for her hotel confirmation number. “I have a reservation. My name is Meg Williams. I have the confirmation number here somewhere. Oh yes, here it is.” She pulled out the crumpled computer printout page with her reservation information.
Glancing at his computer, then at her paper and then back at the computer, the man’s earlier haughtiness disappeared before he tugged at his collar and sighed heavily. Meg closed her eyes and waited for the words she’d heard so many times today.
“I’m very sorry, Ms. Williams. There seems to be a problem with your reservation.”
“Of course there is,” she answered woodenly. “Let me guess, my name isn’t in your computer and you don’t have any more rooms.”
The man actually flushed. “Well, actually, yes, that’s true. You have to understand Cupid’s Carnival is our busiest weekend.”
“Save it.” Meg cut him off with her hand. “Are there any other hotels nearby?”
“There are,” the man began, stumbling before adding, “however--,”
“They’re all booked too.”
“There isn’t a single vacancy on the island.”
Looking around, Meg spotted the hotel bar. “How late is the bar open?”
“Until 3 a.m.” The clerk was clearly surprised by the fact she wasn’t arguing more.
Numb and exhausted beyond belief, Meg merely nodded before walking away. All the fight had been beaten out of her. Paradise Island had officially kicked her ass. Dragging her shoulder bag on the ground behind her, she trudged toward the bar, unable to think beyond the drink she was going to order.
“Yes ma’am, I’m sure you did, but as I said before, when you didn’t arrive by five o’clock we rented it to someone else. This policy was stated in the rental agreement you signed,” the harried clerk answered.
The airport was packed even though it was midnight on Thursday. Every Valentine’s Day weekend, the small tropical island hosted its own romance fest called Cupid’s Carnival. Meg watched a program about it on the Travel Channel over Thanksgiving break. At the time, she thought the romantic escape was just the salve she and her fiancé needed to spice up their waning relationship. She immediately began saving her money and booked their nonrefundable escape to Eden Isle the second weekend in February as a surprise. The nonrefundable part didn’t bother her until she caught her two-timing boyfriend unwrapping another woman under the tree on Christmas Eve. Unwilling and unable to justify losing such a tremendous amount of money, she decided to forge ahead with her long, romantic weekend, sans the romantic part. If nothing else, the trip to the island was a welcome break from work and winter weather and she could use the long weekend to figure out where in the hell she had gone so wrong with her life.
Unfortunately, her real-life experience wasn’t turning out to be the sun, fun, and fiesta the program promised. She’d already missed her first whole day of vacation, spending it on overcrowded planes and waiting in interminable airport lines rather than lounging by the pool at her resort hotel drinking fruity drinks with umbrellas in them. Then to add insult to injury, she’d spent the last two hours waiting for her luggage which apparently was, at this very moment, on a slow boat to China. An extremely annoying airline agent was now in possession of her name and hotel information with plans to send her luggage on “just as soon as we find it.” Yeah right. Chances were good she would be back in Virginia before it ever made an appearance.
“Do you have any cars left?” Meg asked disappointedly. She specifically rented a convertible sports car, looking forward to four days of cruising around the island with the top down.
“I have one vehicle left.” The clerk was clearly relieved she wasn’t going to kick up more of a fuss. Quite frankly, she was too tired to complain. “It’s a very roomy mini-van.”
“Terrific,” Meg answered with a sarcastic smile, “just what I need, seating for seven when there’s only little old me and no luggage.”
Signing all the appropriate forms, Meg waited inside the door of the airport while an employee of the rental agency fetched her mini-van. She killed the time trying to recall exactly what she’d put in her carry-on bag as she waited. No more clothes, she thought, glancing down at the comfortable travel outfit she’d worn. Having spent the last 22 hours in it, she quite frankly would have preferred to burn it rather than have to wear it again tomorrow. She had all her money--thank goodness, her camera, her passport and hotel information, aspirin—hallelujah, and her now useless cell phone. She’d dropped and broken it while waiting for her connecting flight in Florida. Yep, she thought, I’m now officially in Hell.
Finally, the employee pulled up with what the rental agent had referred to as ‘a fine car.’ Clearly, her definition of ‘fine’ varied somewhat from the agent’s. If she had any strength left in her body, she would go back and beat the guy over the head with her busted cell phone. Looking down at the directions to her hotel, she silently said a prayer that the heap of junk in front of her would make it the ten miles she needed to drive.
“Here you go, miss.” The young valet offered her a smile she felt the incredible urge to run her fist through. “Welcome to Eden Isle.”
As if on cue, the sky opened up and rain began to come down in a deluge that had her soaked in less than ten seconds. Now dripping wet and cold, she climbed into the monstrous van, prayed the windshield wipers worked, and made her way out of the airport parking lot with her head pounding and her teeth chattering.
After thirty minutes of poor visibility and two missed turns, she finally found the right road. According to her directions, she was only a mile from her destination. A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearly 1 a.m. Thunder and lightning was now accompanying the pounding rain and the deafening sound of it was only adding to the pressure building behind her eyes. She should have taken a couple of those aspirin back at the airport.
Bright lights in her rear view mirror blinded her for a moment as a car came up behind her too quickly for her comfort. She knew she was driving slowly, but the visibility was practically zero and she had no idea where she was going.
“You’ll just have to hold your horses, hot shot,” she murmured to the car now riding her rear bumper.
“Back off, asshole.” The car continued to drive too close. She tapped on her brake lights twice hoping the driver would get the message, but the car continued to crowd her.
Apparently tired of tailgating, the car crossed the double yellow line and began to pass her. She was even more annoyed when she realized it was an enormous limousine.
“Oh perfect,” she mumbled, “Rich boy too important to wait.”
Suddenly a pair of headlights approached from the opposite lane and Meg’s heart stopped in her chest as she watched the limo speed up to pass her before careening head-on with the other car. All she could see before slamming on the brakes was the limo’s license plate—MAD 1—taunting her. Meg swerved off the road and into a ditch as the limo began coming back into her lane before fully completing his pass. The car came to a relatively easy stop despite the fact Meg was screaming her head off and not really focusing on her driving. Looking up, she saw the limo continue down the road, the taillights of the other vehicle disappearing behind her.
“What kind of place is this?” She’d literally been run off the road in the middle of the night and left alone. If she ever got her hands on that limo driver, she’d kill him.
Taking a deep breath and trying to still her shaking hands, she hit the gas in an attempt to pull back out onto the road. Spinning tires greeted her and no amount of gear-switching would budge the car.
“Shit!” she screamed to the cavernous car. Grabbing her carry-on bag and throwing it over her shoulder, she climbed out of the car, kicking the tire as she passed to stalk down the road toward her hotel. If she’d been thinking clearly, she would never have left the safety of the car, but adrenalin and anger had kicked in and she was more furious than she’d ever been in her life.
After ten minutes of trudging through the mud and the rain, the gods smiled on her as she saw the sign for her hotel. Picking up the pace, she sprinted across the dark parking lot. As she approached the front door of the hotel, she spotted MAD-1 sitting under the covered entry way.
The stress of the day broke free as she watched the young chauffeur get out of the driver’s seat to open the back door. Meg saw red as she headed for the man who made her wreck her lousy rental car. Out of the corner of her eye she watched a man and woman emerge from the car, but her entire focus concentrated on the cocky blond driver. Walking up to him, she put a finger in his chest and let loose.
“You stupid, ignorant, son of a bitch,” she screamed at the startled man. “You could have killed me. You aren’t fit to drive a bicycle, let alone a limo. And as if that’s not bad enough, you leave me stuck in a damn ditch by the side of the road in a storm in the middle of the night. I should call the police and have you arrested for reckless driving. I should—”
“Excuse me, miss,” a calm voice said behind her. Turning suddenly, Meg looked up into the face of one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in her life. Standing behind him with her mouth agape was his perfect female counterpart--an equally beautiful--actually stunning--brunette. Unfortunately, the man’s extraordinarily pleasing visage only deepened her fury as she took in the dry, immaculate, not-a-hair-out-of-place appearances of him and his lovely companion.
“And you!” Meg could hear the hateful words spew from her mouth, yet she was unable to stop them. “You sit in that goddamned car like some kind of king and don’t even tell him to stop. Clearly you must have more money than brains considering you would hire him to drive your fancy car like Jeff Gordon, taking out anyone else who gets in the way.”
“I’m afraid I’m not sure what you are talking about,” the man answered smoothly despite her insults.
Further angered by his calm demeanor after nearly causing her serious injury, she continued berating him. “Sure you don’t. That man runs me off the road not 10 minutes ago and you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about.”
The man glanced sharply at his driver. “George, is this true?”
Looking at his feet, the young chauffer appeared chagrined by his actions. “I didn’t know she ran off the road.”
“You didn’t know? Did you pull over to check?”
“We were on a tight schedule,” George mumbled. “Already late.”
“Rob.” The attractive woman from the limousine was clearly uncomfortable with the coming confrontation. “I’m going to go in if you don’t need me anymore tonight.”
“Of course, Lana,” Rob replied, “it’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night,” Lana purred softly before making her elegant departure. Meg had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes at the woman’s red carpet worthy performance and the two men gawking at her pert little behind as she strolled away.
“And the Oscar goes to…” she mumbled.
“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Gorgeous asked.
“Christ,” she muttered as all the fight left her. “Forget it. I’m wet, cold, hungry, tired and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about any of this anymore. Bye.” Meg was well aware that her departure, unlike Lana’s, was less than stellar with water streaming off her now see-through pink blouse and linen pants, mud squishing between the toes of the sandals she had foolishly donned in the Florida airport, and her mass of curly blond hair dripping wet and hanging in her face.
“Miss,” the elegant man named Rob called out to her, but Meg kept walking. The end of her hellish day was in sight and nothing was going to stop her from soaking in a nice hot bath, crawling between the soft cotton sheets of her king-sized bed, and sleeping until noon.
The night clerk at the front desk seemed to take in her dirty, wet appearance with disdain. “May I help you, ma’am?”
“Yes.” Meg rummaged through her damp bag for her hotel confirmation number. “I have a reservation. My name is Meg Williams. I have the confirmation number here somewhere. Oh yes, here it is.” She pulled out the crumpled computer printout page with her reservation information.
Glancing at his computer, then at her paper and then back at the computer, the man’s earlier haughtiness disappeared before he tugged at his collar and sighed heavily. Meg closed her eyes and waited for the words she’d heard so many times today.
“I’m very sorry, Ms. Williams. There seems to be a problem with your reservation.”
“Of course there is,” she answered woodenly. “Let me guess, my name isn’t in your computer and you don’t have any more rooms.”
The man actually flushed. “Well, actually, yes, that’s true. You have to understand Cupid’s Carnival is our busiest weekend.”
“Save it.” Meg cut him off with her hand. “Are there any other hotels nearby?”
“There are,” the man began, stumbling before adding, “however--,”
“They’re all booked too.”
“There isn’t a single vacancy on the island.”
Looking around, Meg spotted the hotel bar. “How late is the bar open?”
“Until 3 a.m.” The clerk was clearly surprised by the fact she wasn’t arguing more.
Numb and exhausted beyond belief, Meg merely nodded before walking away. All the fight had been beaten out of her. Paradise Island had officially kicked her ass. Dragging her shoulder bag on the ground behind her, she trudged toward the bar, unable to think beyond the drink she was going to order.
New Friends and a kick in the pants!
Okay--this post is for my new critique partner, Rachel, who insists that I get the lead out and start working on this blog! I've done some changes on the layout and added a blogroll for all my new Aussie mates--tee hee! I'm starting to feel like the only writer on this side of the continent!
I'm knee deep in my work on Undercover. I simply can't get those characters out of my head. I'm about 20,000 words in and I'm sure it will take me at least 60,000 to get the story told.
I'm also thinking about posting my novella "Mad about Meg" on this blog a chapter at a time. It was one of the first books I wrote and I just never seemed to be able to find a good home for Meg, so I guess I'll put her here. She really wants you to know all about that vacation she took where she met Rob. *sigh* He's such a hottie....and did I mention he's rich? Thought I'd bring them out a chapter at a time. One chapter each Monday because let's face it....Monday's suck. No new books on Monday--publishers always make us wait until Tuesday! It's torture!
So for your Monday reading pleasure....here's chapter one.
I'm knee deep in my work on Undercover. I simply can't get those characters out of my head. I'm about 20,000 words in and I'm sure it will take me at least 60,000 to get the story told.
I'm also thinking about posting my novella "Mad about Meg" on this blog a chapter at a time. It was one of the first books I wrote and I just never seemed to be able to find a good home for Meg, so I guess I'll put her here. She really wants you to know all about that vacation she took where she met Rob. *sigh* He's such a hottie....and did I mention he's rich? Thought I'd bring them out a chapter at a time. One chapter each Monday because let's face it....Monday's suck. No new books on Monday--publishers always make us wait until Tuesday! It's torture!
So for your Monday reading pleasure....here's chapter one.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Works in Progress
I thought I'd jot down a quick list of my WIP just so folks can see how many irons I have on the fire!
Completed (published) - Erotic Research at Samhain Publishing
Completed (and completely rejected!) - Mad about Meg, a contemporary erotic romance
Completed (unpublished and being reviewed by editors) - Tequila Truth, a contemporary erotic romance and At the End of the Day, a contemporary erotic romance
Completed (unpublished, but in need of editing)
No Recourse and No Regrets, historical romance (both part of the June girls trilogy)
Commitment, a contemporary erotic romance (part of the Lowell High series)
The following books are in various stages of completion:
No Return, a historical romance (part of the June girls trilogy)
Undercover, a contemporary erotic romance (part of the Lowell High series)
Untitled (Bree and Mike's story), a contemporary erotic romance
Untitled (Sam and Maddie's story), western romance (part of series)
Untitled (Jake and Beth's story), western romance (part of series)
Completed (published) - Erotic Research at Samhain Publishing
Completed (and completely rejected!) - Mad about Meg, a contemporary erotic romance
Completed (unpublished and being reviewed by editors) - Tequila Truth, a contemporary erotic romance and At the End of the Day, a contemporary erotic romance
Completed (unpublished, but in need of editing)
No Recourse and No Regrets, historical romance (both part of the June girls trilogy)
Commitment, a contemporary erotic romance (part of the Lowell High series)
The following books are in various stages of completion:
No Return, a historical romance (part of the June girls trilogy)
Undercover, a contemporary erotic romance (part of the Lowell High series)
Untitled (Bree and Mike's story), a contemporary erotic romance
Untitled (Sam and Maddie's story), western romance (part of series)
Untitled (Jake and Beth's story), western romance (part of series)
It's out!
Erotic Research, my first book, was released on Samhain Publishing on March 18. It was a super exciting day for me. Nikki, at The Good, The Bad, and The Unread website gave it an A grade and said some really nice things too! To make things even better, tonight it hit #2 on the MBaM best seller list! Somebody pinch me! Right now, I have submissions being reviewed by editors at two different publishers--my fingers are crossed. Having gone through the editing/publishing process the past few months, I find myself anxious to keep things going!
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