“I am sorry, Miss Stanton. We do have to offer the room to Mr. Komarov first.”
Komarov. The name of a man who apparently always got what he wanted.
And Lily knew she didn’t have any more cards to play. Literally. Time to bow out gracefully and get on with the search for a hotel room. There had to be another place nearby that she recognized, or maybe the receptionists would recommend one for her. Her shoulders slumped, but she managed to hold her head high as she nodded past the lump in her throat. “Of course. I understand,” she said quietly.
She turned to the man—Mr. Komarov—and summoned up every ounce of professional courtesy she had. “It’s only fair,” she assured him, even though she could only think just how unfair it was as she put out her hand to shake his, “although you still owe me a drink.” Lily forced a teasing smile, but she could feel the tension behind it.
He eyed her for a moment, but slowly extended his hand.
When his fingers touched hers, his large, warm hand sliding forward to envelop her smaller palm in his, her eyes nearly rolled back in her head at the pleasurable feeling.
Dangerous. This man was dangerous. A sexy, hard-bodied, well-dressed room stealer. And she had already had enough experiences with guys who took too much from her. She didn’t need to spend any more time in this one’s company.
It was for the best, then, that she was walking away and would likely never see him again. She had sworn off men like that after Jason. Sworn off men altogether, in fact, for nearly four months until her date a few weeks ago.
But before she could pull her hand away and run for the exit, he gave it a gentle squeeze, dark eyes boring into hers. It was as though he could see to her very soul in that look, and her breath hitched. God, but he was gorgeous.
Komarov cleared his throat. “I apologize for being less than a gentleman. I am afraid that the situation prompted me to act out of hand, and I reacted inappropriately. The room is yours.”
She couldn’t help it. Her jaw dropped.
“I insist.” He let go of her hand, and she was surprised to find her entire body felt suddenly chilled and her fingers stiffened in protest.
To the receptionist, he extended the same hand that had been holding hers, and an irrational jealousy surged.
“I’ll just take my card back and be on my way,” he said evenly. But as Lily watched his face, he looked so beaten and weary all of a sudden that she was ashamed. She had misjudged him based on his behavior—actions that had likely been born out of the stress and exhaustion that she only now bothered to notice were etched all over his face. Despite that, though, he had even apologized and given her the room.
Her parents had always taught her that a little short-term discomfort was always survivable, and that a generous heart and a positive attitude toward people would open more joy in her life than a surly, stubborn one. And here she was, fighting with a stranger for a place to spend a handful of hours, on the brink of missing a major event in Julie’s life because she had insisted on going alone on the ski trip that she and Jason had planned, even knowing that she would be cutting it close to land back in New York just over one day before the graduation ceremony. Definitely not generous-hearted.
Now the sibling she was closest to was graduating college. And Lily was stuck half a day’s flight away. If she managed to get on the morning flight tomorrow, Greg or Andrew—her two older brothers—could pick her up from the airport so she might even be able to sneak in a couple hours’ sleep before the ceremony. Enough time…but only if she made the flight.
She would make it. She’d take on Mother Nature herself if it meant being able to be there for Julie’s big day.
Lily hesitated, but Komarov prodded her. “Go on, before someone else calls the hotel directly and takes it from either of us.”
She sighed and passed her credit card and passport over the counter, then forced herself to look him in the eye. “Thank you,” she murmured, her cheeks burning with both shame and relief at the same time.
He merely winked and nodded, then began wheeling his luggage away. The female receptionist sighed quietly.
I agree.
And, just like that, she made her decision, and turned to him.
“The couch is yours if you want it,” she called.
Komarov stopped, but didn’t turn around. She quickly looked back at the receptionist. “There’s a couch in the suite, right?”
He nodded. “Indeed, madam. It even folds out into a bed.”
“You want it?”
He pivoted slowly and looked at her strangely.