As there was no curtain rail to hoist herself up with, she opted for arms first. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gripped the window frame, and pulled herself up. Then carrying her weight on her arms, she leaned through the gap to look out. And wished she hadn’t.
No frickin’ way. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but this was high. And this certainly wasn’t anything like that three storey boutique hotel in Miami she’d escaped from. Even if she could squeeze herself through a four inch gap, there was nothing but a thirty storey fall on the other side. Give or take a few storeys.
Four inches was a whole lot smaller than she remembered. Her arms were scraped by the time she managed to wriggle backwards onto solid ground.
Okay, re-group.
She sat on the cold toilet seat and wiped her arms down with a damp facecloth.
One bonus. At least now she knew it was morning. Probably tomorrow morning. Which meant she hadn’t just lost a few hours, but had a whole day and night to account for. And at least one bottle of champagne.
Well, she couldn’t change what was past, so she would focus on the here and now. Since escape wasn’t an option, she should unbolt the door and go out there, get her clothes, tell Demi-God ‘That was fun. Have a nice life’ and leave the traditional way.
Or she could sit right here until the maids came in to make up the room and use them as cover to duck out?
Option B it was. She stuck her hands between her knees. Had the bathroom shrunk? The walls seemed to be pressing in.
“You still in there?” The voice on the other side of the door sounded concerned now.
“Sure. Where else would I be?” Spread across the asphalt thirty storeys down?
“The coffee’s getting cold.”
At the thought of coffee, her mouth watered.
“You want to talk?”
No, she didn’t want to talk. She twisted the ring around her finger. The craftsmanship was certainly awe-inspiring. The carved silver roses even had petals. Nope, the producers of Pranked definitely weren’t that imaginative.
“I hope you’re not having second thoughts this morning.” This time Demi-God didn’t sound at all concerned. He sounded amused, confident no woman wouldn’t want to be married to him.
I’ve got news for you.
“I know it’s sudden, but see this as just another fun adventure,” he said.
Sure. Like root canal was fun.
“You know I thought I’d be the one needing time to adjust to the idea. Are you sure you’re okay in there? Is there anything I can get you?”
He wasn’t going to let her be, was he? If she didn’t go out there and face the music, he’d probably call Security to bang the door down. Actually, that could work…
But if she had to sit still another moment longer, she’d go mental. “I’m fine. I like my coffee black, one sugar.”
When she heard the clatter of coffee cups in the distance, her stomach growled. Maybe staying for coffee wouldn’t be so bad. She could explain this was all a big mistake, get dressed and leave like any rational person. She could do rational.
But if she was going to do this, she wanted a rough idea of who her host was, where she was, and how to get home.
She rummaged through the bathroom cupboard. There was nothing there except the usual hotel branded toiletries. At least now she knew where she was. The Mandarin Oriental.
Talk about getting lucky. She’d always wanted to spend a night at the Mandarin.
Next, she tackled the leather toiletry bag beside the sink. Jackpot!
A small container of headache tablets with the name Max Waldburg and the contact details of a pharmacy in Napa.
Mrs. Waldburg … no, that definitely didn’t sound like her. Hell, Mrs. Anything didn’t sound like her. She was a tumbleweed, an adventurer, not a married woman tied to some man she barely knew.
She swallowed one of the tablets, combed her hair, then found a complementary airline toothbrush and toothpaste in the bag, and brushed her teeth.
Okay, she was as ready as she was ever going to be. Sucking in a deep breath, she headed for the door.
The first thing to assault her senses as she emerged from the bathroom was the scent of bacon. Her stomach flipped in ecstasy. She was starved. Maybe coffee and bacon, and then she’d get away.
The suite was decorated in a slick Asian design, in soft creams and browns, but what grabbed her attention was the panoramic cityscape beyond the floor to ceiling windows. It looked a whole lot better from this angle, when you weren’t dangling over the drop.
Max sprawled on the sofa, reading a newspaper. He grinned up at her, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “Ready to eat?” He waved at the dining table that had been set for two. Including polished silver cutlery and a crystal vase full of yellow roses.
He set aside the newspaper and moved to join her at the table. “The flowers are for you, to make up for the ones you didn’t have at our wedding yesterday.”
Did he know they were her favourites? She shook her head. She didn’t want to know how much he knew about her from yesterday. And she hadn’t even been able to remember his name. Guilt and shame crowded her, but she pushed them aside. Life was too short for regrets.
And with her stomach doing some serious complaining, life was also too short to reject a good meal, no matter how awkward the circumstances. Who knew when she was ever going to afford to eat at the Mandarin again?
Pulling on her metaphoric big girl pants, she sat across from Max at the table and spread the real linen napkin across her lap. No paper napkins here.
And the bacon was every bit as good as it smelled. Like a good girl, she drank the glass of orange juice Max handed her. He was right about one thing; she felt a whole lot better with the food and juice inside her. It certainly beat her usual bowl of cereal, eaten standing up in her elbow-room-only kitchenette. And the view was way better, without looking at what lay beyond the windows. Wasn’t it just her luck that she pulled the most gorgeous man she’d ever met, and she couldn’t remember any of it?
When they were done, Max cleared away the plates and poured the coffee. Fresh, full-roasted coffee with cream. Phoenix couldn’t help but lick her lips in anticipation.
Max rocked his chair back as he sipped his coffee. “So what shall we do today?”
“I need to get to work.” Or anywhere but here. Besides, if this was really tomorrow, then she was supposed to switch to the day shift today.
“No, you don’t. Khara offered to take your shift today, remember? After all, we’re on honeymoon.”
Khara was in on this? Phoenix was going to wring her neck as soon as she got back to work. Friends weren’t supposed to let friends drive drunk. Or get married while drunk, either.
She swigged down a mouthful of fortifying caffeine. “Well now, that’s kind of the problem. I don’t remember.”
Max’s forehead furrowed. “What don’t you remember?”
“Everything. Anything. The last thing I remember was you offering to buy me a drink in the pool hall.”
She wished she had a camera for the expression on his face. Floored didn’t even begin to cover it.
Then a smile crinkled the edges of his eyes. He obviously smiled often, because the crinkles deepened so naturally. “I guess I’ll have to remind you, then.”
With a grace she could only hope to emulate, he rocked his chair forward and grasped her seat