Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“You’re not staying here,” I say aloud, the disdain in my voice echoing off the car’s interior like steel before I rap loudly on the privacy screen.
“David? What’s this? Why are we stopped here?” I ask, the rising irritation in my voice making Melissa look uneasy.
“It’s the hotel I’m booked at,” Melissa says, knitting her brow as she unbuckles herself, but I’m quick to use the console to lock all the doors.
“Melissa,” I tell her through teeth I’m fighting not to grind, “you’re not staying here. I-I insist you—” But it’s too late. I can already feel I’ve messed things up again.
“And I insist you unlock this door!” she growls back, surprising me with her defiance and her spirit.
A nineteen-hour flight, dressed for winter on a hot day, is now held hostage by the man she’s been told is taking her to her hotel. She’s reaching her limits for today. I don’t want to frighten her, but I’m not gonna have her stay here. I’ve already decided she can’t be on her own.
“And don’t give me a ‘you’re mine’ speech either,” she clips, red with anger now. “Dad warned me you were a little obsessive. I think I can manage things for a few days until he gets here. Thank you!”
Instead of panicking at the thought of her leaving or even needing to explain myself, I can’t help but smile.
She’s fucking hot when she’s mad.
“What’s so funny?” she snaps, getting tangled up in the seat belt and bag strap as she tries to organize herself.
“Melissa… Mel,” I tell her calmly, unlocking the doors and showing her both my hands.
“I just meant that you… that this hotel…” I try to explain, but she’s already out of the car, banging on the trunk for the driver to open it so she can get her other luggage.
I sigh heavily, my driver looking at me in the rearview with a questioning “what should I do?” look.
“Wait here,” I tell him, sliding out of the car, feeling my chance with Meliss-Mel about to slip through my fingers unless I do something about this and fast.
CHAPTER THREE
Melissa
There’s nothing wrong. Not with Mark, anyway.
He’s just being that “little obsessive” Dad talked about, but I really end up throwing a fit because I don’t want to stay in a stupid hotel, either. I don’t want Mark to drop me off, drive away, and check in over the phone to see how I’m doing. He may even grudgingly treat me to a pity meal and tour of the streets of a strange city that has a different heat that bowls me over once I step into it again.
Mark was right about that sun. I can feel it zapping me with its rays. The dry, hot breeze carries the stifling scent of heavy traffic and something else only a strange new city has to new visitors.
Call me old-fashioned, but when a man like Mark actually kisses your hand? Well, it means something to me, and if this is some Aussie joke where handsome men break young girls’ hearts or if it’s just some local custom, then I’m…
I’ll…
I mean I…
Ah, crap. Who am I kidding?
Nobody’s ever been so charming or so kind to me. No one’s ever kissed my hand so tenderly, let alone anyplace else.
I just feel so… out of my depth with Mark. I don’t know if he feels sorry for me, is winding me up, or is just this full-on friendly with everyone he meets.
Plus, I saw how his face changed when mine was blank at the mention of his “big step” comment about me being over here in the first place. I mean, what the hell does that mean? I’m on holiday. It’s not like I’m moving here for good.
The “plans” my dad’s been making are making sense in my mind, though, the more I think about it. I knew about some business deal with Mark, but dad never said anything about moving to Australia. I thought he meant it was just a holiday—an adventure for us both before the reality of life after college hits hard.
I hope I haven’t ruined whatever deal dad has going with Mark, but I can’t help feeling like my dad hasn’t told me everything either. That’s another intense emotion on top of everything else right now.
Either way, I feel stupid for acting out, but it’s too late to do anything other than get my things and check in to the hotel. I’m already trying to convince myself I’m an idiot if I think for one minute a man like Mark could ever see anything in me. Maybe everything will make more sense after I’ve showered and changed. My eyes already feel like I need to sleep, but it’s not even lunchtime.
Mark looms up out of the car, his face looking apologetic. I know he won’t let me walk away with the car trunk still closed.