Page 41

Ugh, please.

She giggled before coming to her senses, then tapped her manicured fingernails over a keyboard. “We are heavily booked this weekend, Mr.…”

“Lamont. Brian Lamont.”

Who?I turned to Brandon slowly and folded my arms. He responded with a smug grin. How was he going to pull this off? They’d at least need a credit card in that name for us to stay here.

More tapping from Tahlia. “I have one remaining room, which was sadly canceled at the last minute. Would you be interested in the honeymoon suite?” She lifted an impeccably shaped brow.

“Perfect,” Brandon said at the same moment I said, “No way.”

He gave me a tight-lipped grin. “We’ll take it.”

“And how long will you be staying with us, Mr. Lamont?”

“One hour.”

Tahlia stared at him unblinking, gaping like a goldfish. “Oh. I’m sorry. We don’t…ahh…”

“I’m just kidding.” Brandon laughed. “We’ll be staying a week. It’ll take me at least that long to get this one out of my system.” He hooked a thumb in my direction.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I grumbled under my breath and elbowed him in the arm.

He flinched, clutching his bicep. Only then did I realize I’d bumped his injury.

What luck!

“Come on. Where’s your sense of adventure? It’ll be just likePretty Woman.” The jackass winked at me.

My hands balled into fists with my rising fury. He smirked as if he understood exactly how much I wanted to murder him.

Brandon pulled a wad of hundreds from his wallet and shook them at me. “Here. Go buy yourself a fancy red dress. Don’t let the shop assistant give you any trouble.”

This man was infuriating! But two could play that game.

I flashed Brandon my most insincere smile before snatching the money from his outstretched hand. “I hope you like your blow job with teeth,Brian.”

Tahlia inhaled a sharp breath.

Stomping across the foyer at a fast clip, I heard Brandon say, “I picked a feisty one. I like that.” I clenched my jaw and continued to the hotel’s boutique because I needed clothes. And shoes. I wondered if it was worth the unwanted attention if I tore these uncomfortable pumps off and pegged them at the back of Brandon’s head.

After snatching a bunch of items from racks, I paid at the register, not bothering to try anything on since I was exhausted. And dammit, I was sick of all the judgmental eyes watching me. I wanted to get out of here.

Brandon waited for me at the front of the boutique. “Did you remember to get long black gloves to go with the dress? You’d look so hot in them.”

“Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby?” Without making eye contact, I walked past him toward the elevators.

Brandon jogged to catch up and stepped in front of me to press the button. When the doors opened, we stepped in. On our way to the top floor, I sensed Brandon’s looming presence at my back.

“Did you really have to embarrass me like that? That woman at reception thinks I’m a prostitute,” I snapped.

“Well, youdidgive one hell of a lap dance earlier. Come to think of it, I’m not sure we finished. It seemed like you were enjoying—”

I spun on him fast, chest heaving with barely restrained fury. “You are…you are…such a douchebag!”

“And you”—he leaned low so those stupidly clear blue eyes were in line with mine—“aren’t thinking about what went down at Vixens tonight.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”