This man carrying her was about as charming as one of the clerks at the Driver’s license bureau. “What’s your name? I don’t even know your name and I’m supposed to let you drive off with me?”
They were up-close and personal now, their faces just a few inches apart. And damned, if he didn’t have lashes longer than hers. And that thick black springy hair had felt soft when she wrapped her arm around him, obviously he would use only the best hair products.
He even smelled rich.
She had no idea what kind of cologne he wore but it had to be expensive. Nothing from Walmart could smell so divine.
Or maybe it was just him.
At least she couldn’t smell the blood anymore. He glanced sideways, sending that zing into her gut again. “Elliot. Elliot Stafford. You’re welcome to call the hotel to verify. They have my driver’s license number on file.”
He’d carried her across the parking lot and he wasn’t even breathing heavy.
Hmm… He sure didn’t look like an ‘Elliot.’ And his voice, not only did her heart jump this time, but her girly bits were tingling. Rich assholes named Elliot shouldn’t be allowed to be so sexy. It just wasn’t fair.
“But I don’t have my phone. I forgot my phone!” Oh, shit. She never went anywhere without it. What if Carley tried calling her?
“You’re welcome to use mine.” As he said the words, he lowered her feet to the ground and reached into his pocket. The beeping of the car beside them made her jump. It beeped again and he opened the passenger door.
But she couldn’t just climb in… that documentary…
Holding out her hand, she demanded his phone. Looking a little annoyed, he searched through his pockets before pulling it out, unlocking it, and handing it over.
She entered the number one handed and the hotel clerk, Alex, picked it up before it rang a second time.
Sure enough. Mr. Elliot Stafford was legit.
Noel informed her coworker of what happened and asked Alex to call the cops if she didn’t show up for work tomorrow. Even so, she would be back tonight. She had to drop her bank in the safe, get her tips, close out the register.
Elliot Stafford rolled those amazing eyes of his when she mentioned the cops. Feeling only slightly better about him, she ended the call.
“Now get in, before we both freeze to death.”
Notwithstanding his high-handedness, he was pretty damn gentle. He touched her as though she were somebody special. With one hand on her head, and the other holding her elbow, he eased her into the passenger seat and then considerately handed her the seatbelt.
Which, was, she had to admit, pretty sweet.
She wasn’t used to that. She was the one who took care of everything. Nobody had taken care of her since her mom died, three years ago, leaving her to care for her, now, seventeen-year-old sister.
Who usually texted her at least ten times a night.
In fact, Carly had sent a text right before this Elliot dude sat down at the bar. Noel had planned on responding after serving him. But now her phone was just sitting there, on the register. Undefended, all alone.
Noel hoped either Rory or Lisa would put it somewhere safe. Lisa was a little self-centered and Rory, well, he simply didn’t pay attention to those sorts of details.
After Elliot climbed in and started up the vehicle (keyless, of course), he leaned over and peered at her. “Are you still bleeding?”
His potent self-assurance and virility was even more intoxicating within the confines of the car.
What had he asked? Oh, yeah, still bleeding…
Based upon the condition of her hand, she assumed it was. If she moved the cloth now, blood could possibly drip on his pristine leather interior. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe I could just wait, you know, see if it stops bleeding on its own.” She didn’t want to go to the ER but it was kind of freaking her out now. She couldn’t remember a cut ever bleeding so much…
And now it seemed like he was finally listening to her, finally comprehending that she really, really didn’t want to go to a hospital. “I’d advise differently– that glass cut pretty deep. Do you remember the last time you had a tetanus shot?”
Hell, she hadn’t been to see a doctor since high school. And that had been ten years ago. She’d had that one physical so that she could play volleyball.
“Uh, tenth grade?”
