Read Online Taken Home (Lone Star Burn) by Ruth Cardello - Free Book Online Page B

the elevator opened right into an enormous, well-lit suite that was all glass and white furniture. Chelle heard her mother’s voice in her head telling her not to touch anything. She followed the hotel manager into the suite. There was a dining room, where small sandwiches and fruit had been set out for her. A double door opened to a huge bedroom. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed an extensive balcony with a swimming pool. She knew her jaw was hanging open, but she couldn’t help it. She knew such lavish places existed, but she never thought she’d stay in one.
    Chelle dug through her purse and pulled out five dollars. She handed it to the manager. He looked as if he were momentarily torn between being offended or amused. Chelle shot him a pleading smile. “Thank you for your patience with me. This is my first trip—anywhere. I don’t know if I’m excited or terrified.”
    The man graciously pocketed her tip and handed her a business card. “This is my main number. As I said, if you need anything at all, please call me first.”
    Chelle looked out the window and saw the statehouse. “No wonder Mason stays here often—it’s so close to where he works. I thought he lived in Sacramento, though. Why would he need to sleep here?”
    She looked to the manager for confirmation, but his expression had wiped itself clean. He asked her if she was all set. When she said she was, he excused himself.
    Alone, Chelle walked from room to room, running her hand over the smooth white marble of the tables. This place costs more than my car. I’m definitely not staying. She threw open the balcony doors, stepped out onto the balcony, and smiled into the sunshine. But there’s nothing wrong with taking a moment to enjoy it. She let her imagination go, and the balcony was suddenly full of beautifully dressed couples. She adopted an English accent and a pretentious tone. “Welcome to the presidential suite. Have I stayed here before? I practically live here, darling.”
    “Then you should feel right at home,” Mason said from behind her.
    Chelle spun, tripped over her own feet, bounced off the edge of the door, and landed in a sprawl before him, half in and half out of the doorway. She scrambled to her feet and adjusted her dress, trying to look as if she hadn’t just wounded both her elbow and her pride. She waved a hand in the air. “I was joking with my guests.” When that sounded crazy even to her own ears, she added, “In my head. Imagining if I had some. But I don’t. And I know that.” She stopped and tucked her flying curls behind her ears. “So, hi. I didn’t hear you come in.”
    She couldn’t tell if he had a huge smile on his face because he was genuinely happy to see her or because he was doubting her sanity and humoring her. “I meant to meet you at the airport, but a last-minute meeting called me in.” He stepped closer to her and touched her arm gently. “You’re bleeding.”
    Chelle pulled her arm away from him, raised her elbow, and swore. She rushed past Mason in search of tissues, but couldn’t find any. What kind of hotel didn’t have a visible box? She located her makeup bag and applied a Band-Aid to her small cut. It was only then she noted the drops of blood that traced her path through the suite. “Oh no.”
    Mason was beside her instantly. “Are you okay?”
    Chelle shook her head sadly. “I was hoping to leave before they charged either one of us for the suite, but I don’t know if that can happen now. I’m sure the cleaning fee for a place like this is also insane.”
    Mason tipped her chin up so she met his eyes. “They’ll simply add it to my account. Are you okay?”
    Being so close to Mason made mundane topics like her throbbing elbow easy to forget. On the flight over, she’d wondered if she had imagined how beautiful he was. She hadn’t. Strong jaw, broad shoulders, eyes so blue they were mesmerizing. No wonder I made a fool of myself over him at the wedding. Holy crap.