Some shit-storm had blown up the company website while he’d been in the air during a typhoon. How appropriate. Looked like his personal life would have to wait while he dealt with it. Business as usual in other words.
Gabriel glanced at Sinead as she crossed the lounge to the exit. The stunning flight attendant had apparently walked out of his life. Too bad.
She was dying for a long soak in a bubble bath to ease her tension. It had been a rough day, keeping calm and in control during the turbulent flight. Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she pushed open the door to her hotel suite.
It was an email from the airline. All flights were grounded until they received a further update from the authorities about the storm later that evening. Which meant down time. Excellent. She was so glad she’d booked her room in advance.
Sinead entered the suite and wandered through the main sitting area (it had a separate sitting area!), kicked off her high heels with a sigh of relief and dumped her bag by the bed. The suite was all soothing earth tones and plush velvet with silky trimmings, a delicious hint of vanilla scented candles hanging in the air. Much nicer than the usual smaller hotel rooms or apartments.
She skimmed her fingertips along the silky edge of the caramel-coloured quilt and then flopped onto the king size bed.
“Oh, how divine,” she moaned.
Snuggling into the thick quilt and the feather-top mattress beneath, she closed her eyes. She could have happily crashed for a full eight hours, but there was a possibility she may have to fly again tonight. It was best to keep awake and somewhat alert. At least she could get comfortable and she wouldn’t have to worry about another run-in with Mr Grumpy.
When she was able to get vertical again, she checked her phone for messages. Nothing from the airline, not that she expected it so soon. But there was a message from her mother.
That job will be the death of you.
Short and not so sweet. Probably the best to be expected. At least Ma wasn’t harassing Sinead to lend Bridie more money. To be fair, Bridie hadn’t really asked for help, but Sinead had felt obligated.
Then another text popped up.
WHORE.
She sucked in a breath like she was being pulled underwater, drowning, gasping for air. It was from an unknown number. But she knew who sent it. Her whole body knew. Her fingers trembled as she deleted it and dropped the phone on the bed. She couldn’t deal with it now. When would he move on and leave her alone? It had been years. She couldn’t deal with him. Not again.
Needing a distraction, she explored the rest of the suite, especially her ensuite bathroom. An expanse of white marble tiles led to a massive, glass-walled shower with two massage-type shower heads. There was an inviting designer bathtub which looked like a sculpture of a giant egg and it called Sinead with its siren song. But what if she fell asleep in the tub? She’d miss work, if not risk drowning. The fancy shower would have to do. She stripped off her uniform and tossed it across an armchair near the bed.
She reached for the cotton balls to remove her mask of work makeup. A door slammed, so loud and so close, she jumped.
Jayzus!
She wrapped herself in a towel, then dashed in her bare feet on the slippery floor out of the bathroom. Catapulting through the bathroom doorway into the bedroom, she came to a stop near the bed, only to be confronted by a man. A tall, blonde and looming man, standing beside her bed.
It was the passenger again. The dishy ride of a man. The coffee nut. Gabriel. A moment ticked by, pure stunned silence as she stared at him, and he stared right back.
She clutched her towel, then screamed bloody murder.
“You! What in the name of all things holy are you doing in my suite?”
“Your suite? This is my suite.” He waved his key card around and dumped his overnight bag by his feet. As if that proved anything.
“Look here. I’m about to have a shower in my suite. I’ve half a mind to call hotel security right now. Explain yourself.”
“I can see you’re going in the shower,” he paused, but made no effort to hide the way his eyes slid right under her towel as he mentally undressed her. “I’ll call the concierge and sort it out.”
“You can get out while you do it.” She placed her hands on her hips. The towel slipped slightly.
“I don’t think so. You can’t kick me out of my own suite.”
“My suite. Mine! Get out!” Lord, was the man actually crazy?
“Settle down, sweetheart. Why don’t you put some clothes on and lose the attitude?”
Her attitude? What about his? Busting into her room, then telling her what to do. “Why don’t you bite me?”
“Feisty. If I thought you really meant it, I’d bite you all right.” His eyes twinkled in such a playful way, all the fight went out of her.
Sinead huffed out a breath and sagged down onto the bed. The interloper took it as his cue to sit next to her. She stared, hardly believing his audacity. The bloody cheek of it. Then he picked up his phone and called the concierge as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Hello, this is Gabriel Anderson. I just checked in and there’s a mix-up with my suite. There’s a woman in here.” He laughed, low and throaty.
Everything under her towel clenched and tingled. That’s all she needed. Traitorous libido, getting all uppity.
He glanced at her and grinned. “No, I didn’t order a woman.”
“You cheeky bastard …”
“No, I don’t know her. Except from the flight. She works for the airline.” He paused and she tried to listen in to the voice babbling on the other end of the phone. “I see. The airline usually books the suites in case of emergency. Double booking. Right. We’ll discuss it. I’ll get back to you.”
Gabriel’s expression lit up with the kind of smile which could melt her knickers. If she’d been wearing any.
“We both have a valid booking. You, through the airline, and me, through my corporate account. I guess we’re stuck here together,” he said with a shrug, as if this were a perfectly acceptable situation.
“You guess wrong. You have thirty seconds to get out before I call security and scream ‘stalker’.” Sinead stood and marched towards the door, holding her towel firmly across her breasts. She opened the suite’s door and waved him out into the hall. “Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight …”
He raised his hands in the air. “Okay, I’m going. But you’ll see me again soon.” His grin was infuriating.
She rolled her eyes. “Not if I can help it.”
“Sooner rather than later, sweetheart.”
He walked through the door and she slammed it in his smug, sexy face. Her towel dropped to the floor and she groaned in frustration. All kinds. The I’ve-had-enough-of-this-day kind and definitely the I-haven’t-had-sex-in-a-year and I-can-feel-it-all-over-my-naked-body kind. Time for a shower. She scooped up her towel from the floor, checked the door lock and retreated to the luxurious bathroom. She locked that door too.
Many long minutes later, she emerged dripping wet, clean and refreshed, but feeling ever-so-slightly dirty. It was one of the best showers of her life. She may have fantasised about a certain blonde man with a grumpy disposition. Gabriel. She loved his name. But she didn’t understand why she was attracted to him when he was so annoying. It hardly mattered now. It was unlikely she’d see him again. He probably had