“There you are, sweetheart,” he crooned, noting the desperation in her eyes. “Did you forget your key again? You left your bag by the pool.”
Javier’s protest died when he noticed who was holding her.
“Oh, Mr. Martin, I didn’t know…uh, didn’t realize… This young lady… she’s uh…”
Chris gently pulled her to his shoulder, smirking. “Yes, she is feisty. Thanks for bringing her back to our room.”
“Of course, of course.” The manager practically drooled, but his face tightened. He wouldn’t argue with a VIP customer even if he didn’t buy their act. “If there’s anything else I can do for you, let me know.”
“Sure thing.” Chris guided the now grinning young lady the few steps to his door. She pulled back slightly, her eyes wide. When she glanced back at the glaring manager, who hadn’t moved a foot, she threw him an innocent look, sighed then went in with Chris. As soon as the door closed behind them she pulled away.
Walking across the room, her eyes lit up. Yeah, this place rocked--no denying it. Top-dollar suite. Good thing he wasn’t paying for it, especially for the amount of time he expected to stay here.
“Nice.” She stuck her head past the sliding door to the living room balcony. “This must have cost a chunk of change.”
He stared at her. His expression probably gave away his amusement as well as his confusion. She half rolled her eyes and said, “By the way, thanks.”
He gave a small shrug. “You looked like a damsel in distress. Couldn’t resist.”
Her eyes rose as her lip curled up on one side. “I guess you’re wondering what that was all about, huh?”
He nodded.
“Well.” She moved around the room, running her hand over the expensive furniture, brazenly checking things out, checking him out. “I work around the corner, so sometimes I come by to use the pool. Unfortunately, management takes a dim view of freeloaders.”
She passed through the kitchen area, opened the fridge, an expression of longing crossing her face. Reading the clock on the microwave she whipped around to face him again. “Damn, I didn’t realize it was this late. There’s no way I can get back, take a shower, and get to work on time. My boss is going to dock my pay for sure.”
She picked up her drenched bag, peering inside. “And I don’t even have anything to wear. I can hardly go prancing around the streets in just my bathing suit.”
Chris didn’t mind women prancing in bathing suits but now she was partially covered by some fabric thing. He recalled her suit was modest, boy-cut shorts and a tank-like top. A little of the stretchy blue fabric covering her nice figure peeked out. Conservative compared to some of the skimpy stuff he’d seen since he’d been here. Was she uncomfortable walking around with it on? He’d seen plenty of women in less material openly welcoming others to look. Was she like that?Shehad kissedhimby the pool so she wasn’t shy.
Her lips turned down as she pulled a pair of flip flops out of her soggy bag and tossed them on the floor. Sliding her feet inside, she slung her bag on her shoulder then walked toward the door. As she passed by the wall mirror she caught sight of herself in it and stopped. She raised a hand to her unruly, sun-kissed locks and gave a cry of horror.
“Oh, man, I’ll be lucky if I get paid at all tonight with the way I look.” She turned to face him. He’d never complain about her appearance. She was hot. Should he tell her she looked fine? He was about to when she gave him a genuine smile. “Thanks again. Sorry I bothered you.”
“Hey,” he called out as she approached the door to the hall. “Why don’t you take a shower here, or at least straighten up in the bathroom? It would give more credit to our story.”
He wasn’t sure if he made the offer because she seemed lost or because there was something else, something about her that stirred his interest. He wanted to know more and if she walked out now, he never would. Never could resist a puzzle.
“He’s going to know anyway with what I’m wearing.” She glanced down at the thin sarong draped diagonally across her torso.
“Can you use that as a skirt? I can come up with something for a shirt. Why don’t you head into the bathroom, and I’ll see what I can find.”
Her eyes were leery so he added, “It’s the least I can do for a damsel.Andyou can lock yourself in.”
She looked around the room, crossed to the door and checked through the peephole, sighing. Was Javier still hanging around out in the hallway? Her gaze darted around, flashed to the clock again, then she sized him up quite thoroughly. He threw her one of his most charming smiles. She placed her hand on her throat and lowered her eyes.
“My boss’ll kill me if I get there late,” she mumbled. Pressing her lips together she nodded. She grabbed a large brush from her bag and followed his finger pointing to the bathroom through the bedroom. Blushing, she dropped her sarong on the bed as she walked past. “It’s still a little damp from being splashed by the pool.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, the lock clicked then the sound of water started. He dug through his drawers coming up with a faded, red t-shirt he knew was snug on him. It might be big for her slim figure, but it wasn’t something he had a deep attachment to.
He picked up the sarong and walked to the balcony to shake it out, hoping it would dry in the warm, Miami air. The crowded beach and the endless blue expanse of the Atlantic Ocean caught his attention. His time should be spent on the other balcony watching for Salazar Moreno.
Moreno was in charge of a lot in this city. High-priced prostitutes and drugs, even though he still gave the illusion of a successful businessman to the public eye. But new whispers suggested he was getting into guns as well. Guns that had been used to kill cops and federal agents. Chris’s priority was to get close to Moreno, finagle his way into a business relationship and get more information on the man. Many of Moreno’s business associates stayed at The Ocean Terrace Resort, so this is where Chris needed to be. And it was across the street from the strip where the glitziest nightclubs and restaurants were. Word was that Moreno had his finger in several of them. Clubbing and that crowd could be fun. Enjoy drinks, get his face seen and recognized, potentially have an in with Moreno.
Hearing the bathroom door open, he walked back into the bedroom and the woman poked her head out, chewing on her bottom lip. She looked younger, all cleaned and scrubbed with her hair brushed and secured in a ponytail, but she was hardly a teenager.
“Is that dry?” she asked pointing to the fabric in his hands.
