Read Online Roman Holiday: The Complete Adventure (2-Book Bundle: The Adventure Begins and The Adventure Continues) by Ruthie Knox - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ruthie Knox
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because it doesn’t mean anything to you.”
“If anything, knowing how much you loved it would make me raise the price.”
“That makes you a jerk.”
“No, it makes me a capitalist.” His hand slid over the steering wheel in a gentle caress. “If you wouldn’t pay to get it back, it has no value.”
God, she’d had him pegged right from the get-go. One of those glass-bottomed-boat-cell-phone men. An invisible-hand-of-the-market ideologue who justified his soulless behavior with empty ethics.
Irredeemable.
Although it was strange. Most of the ideologues she’d met delivered their lines with more passion than Roman. He sounded as though he were reading his off a script.
“You have a seriously skewed sense of value.”
He gave her one of his brilliant, empty smiles. “One of us does.”
“Not me.”
“So you say.”
She rubbed at a spot beneath her sternum that had begun to ache.
Hunger. That’s all it was. Not disappointment.
“If we’re going more than thirty miles, I’m going to have to stop for gas,” he said. “You know what that will be like.”
Ugh. Mid-evacuation gas lines were insane. Ashley mentally added another forty-five minutes to the length of the journey.
Stupid gas-guzzling monster-beast car
.
“It’s more than thirty miles,” she said. “You should probably get gas before Miami.”
“When are you planning to tell me where we’re going?”
“Later.”
She caught herself picking at the pocket of her cargo pants and folded her hands in her lap.
What would Roman be like when he was angry? Would he turn red, yell? Or was he one of those people who got even quieter and planned revenge?
Leaning forward, she pointed the heat vent away from her. The control for her side of the car read 70 degrees, but the air from the vent felt cold, raising goose bumps all over her arms.
Roman drove. After a few more miles, he signaled and took an exit.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Hotel.”
“We can’t stop here. We’re only at Homestead. If this is some trick—if you’re going to dump me here and leave, then I just want to say—”
“Relax. This is where I’ve been staying. I need to take a shower and pick up my things.”
“Oh. I thought you lived in Miami. Why are you staying in Homestead?”
“In traffic, it’s still another seventy-five, eighty minutes to my place. When I’m working in the Keys, I don’t always feel like making the drive.” He pulled into the parking lot of one of those extended-stay chain hotels for businessmen and parked.
“So you have a room here all the time?”
“Not all the time. Often.” He put his hand over the key in the ignition and paused. “I’ll be thirty minutes or so. You can wait here, or you can wait in the lobby.”
“I’ll wait here.”
“Fine.”
He paused again.
“You’re not going to steal my truck.”
The way he said it, it wasn’t quite a question. It wasn’t an order, either.
His hand hovered protectively over the key.
Ashley rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Roman, I’m not a
criminal
. What would I even do with it? Drive out onto Route 1 and get stuck in evacuation traffic? It would be the shortest joyride in the history of car theft.”
That seemed to decide him. Leaving the key where it was, he opened the door and hopped out, retrieved his briefcase, and loped through the sliding-glass doors.
Ashley turned up the heat and toed off her sandals. She twisted sideways in the seat to rest her cheek against the leather upholstery.
She watched the raindrops move over the window, each following its own unpredictable track, and she tried not to think about how tired she was—how utterly beaten.
How far out on the limb she’d walked with this stranger.
She tried not to think of Roman behind the windows of one of those hotel rooms. The shower filling the air with warm steam that smelled of him. He hadn’t invited her up, and she didn’t want to go, even in her imagination. She
“If anything, knowing how much you loved it would make me raise the price.”
“That makes you a jerk.”
“No, it makes me a capitalist.” His hand slid over the steering wheel in a gentle caress. “If you wouldn’t pay to get it back, it has no value.”
God, she’d had him pegged right from the get-go. One of those glass-bottomed-boat-cell-phone men. An invisible-hand-of-the-market ideologue who justified his soulless behavior with empty ethics.
Irredeemable.
Although it was strange. Most of the ideologues she’d met delivered their lines with more passion than Roman. He sounded as though he were reading his off a script.
“You have a seriously skewed sense of value.”
He gave her one of his brilliant, empty smiles. “One of us does.”
“Not me.”
“So you say.”
She rubbed at a spot beneath her sternum that had begun to ache.
Hunger. That’s all it was. Not disappointment.
“If we’re going more than thirty miles, I’m going to have to stop for gas,” he said. “You know what that will be like.”
Ugh. Mid-evacuation gas lines were insane. Ashley mentally added another forty-five minutes to the length of the journey.
Stupid gas-guzzling monster-beast car
.
“It’s more than thirty miles,” she said. “You should probably get gas before Miami.”
“When are you planning to tell me where we’re going?”
“Later.”
She caught herself picking at the pocket of her cargo pants and folded her hands in her lap.
What would Roman be like when he was angry? Would he turn red, yell? Or was he one of those people who got even quieter and planned revenge?
Leaning forward, she pointed the heat vent away from her. The control for her side of the car read 70 degrees, but the air from the vent felt cold, raising goose bumps all over her arms.
Roman drove. After a few more miles, he signaled and took an exit.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Hotel.”
“We can’t stop here. We’re only at Homestead. If this is some trick—if you’re going to dump me here and leave, then I just want to say—”
“Relax. This is where I’ve been staying. I need to take a shower and pick up my things.”
“Oh. I thought you lived in Miami. Why are you staying in Homestead?”
“In traffic, it’s still another seventy-five, eighty minutes to my place. When I’m working in the Keys, I don’t always feel like making the drive.” He pulled into the parking lot of one of those extended-stay chain hotels for businessmen and parked.
“So you have a room here all the time?”
“Not all the time. Often.” He put his hand over the key in the ignition and paused. “I’ll be thirty minutes or so. You can wait here, or you can wait in the lobby.”
“I’ll wait here.”
“Fine.”
He paused again.
“You’re not going to steal my truck.”
The way he said it, it wasn’t quite a question. It wasn’t an order, either.
His hand hovered protectively over the key.
Ashley rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Roman, I’m not a
criminal
. What would I even do with it? Drive out onto Route 1 and get stuck in evacuation traffic? It would be the shortest joyride in the history of car theft.”
That seemed to decide him. Leaving the key where it was, he opened the door and hopped out, retrieved his briefcase, and loped through the sliding-glass doors.
Ashley turned up the heat and toed off her sandals. She twisted sideways in the seat to rest her cheek against the leather upholstery.
She watched the raindrops move over the window, each following its own unpredictable track, and she tried not to think about how tired she was—how utterly beaten.
How far out on the limb she’d walked with this stranger.
She tried not to think of Roman behind the windows of one of those hotel rooms. The shower filling the air with warm steam that smelled of him. He hadn’t invited her up, and she didn’t want to go, even in her imagination. She