About Last Night.... Stephanie Bond

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СКАЧАТЬ he’d offered Derek his room, and since Derek had felt too ill to join the rowdy group for the bachelor party, he’d accepted.

      The tap water was tepid, but it was wet and gave his throat momentary relief. He drank deeply, then stumbled back to bed, knowing he wouldn’t be sleeping again soon.

      Too bad he hadn’t come down with something at home. Then he would’ve had a legitimate excuse to skip the ceremony. He thought of Steve and grunted in sympathy. Marriage. Why on earth would anyone want to get married these days anyway? What kind of fool would stake his freedom on a bet where the odds were two failures out of every three? Wasn’t life complicated enough without throwing something else into the mix?

      They were all confirmed bachelors—he, Jack and Steve. Steve was the womanizer; Jack, the scoundrel; and he, the loner. He couldn’t imagine what kind of woman had managed to catch Steve Larsen’s eye and keep it. The only comment his buddy had made about his fiancée was that she was sweet, but anyone who could convince Steve to set aside his philandering ways had to be a veritable angel.

      Achy and scratchy, he lay awake for several more minutes before he started to doze off. Oddly, his head was full of visions of angels—blond and white-robed, pure and innocent. A side effect of the over-the-counter medication, he reasoned drowsily.

      2

      “I’M SORRY, ma’am, but I can’t give you a key to Mr. Larsen’s room without his permission.” The young male clerk gave Janine an apologetic look, but shook his head.

      Janine bit down on her lower lip to assuage her growing panic. What had she gotten herself into? Marie was long gone and said she was going to stop by Greg’s on the way home. Janine would have to call a cab to get a ride back to the apartment they shared. Which would be fine except she’d left her purse in Marie’s car, and she had no money or apartment key on her person.

      And beneath the raincoat, had very little clothing on her person.

      “Okay, call him,” she relented. It would still be a surprise, just not as dramatic.

      The clerk obliged, then looked up from the phone. “The line’s busy, ma’am.”

      She frowned. Who could Steve be talking to at one in the morning? A sliver of concern skittered up her spine, but she manufactured a persuasive smile. “He’s probably trying to call me. If you’ll give me his room number, I’ll just walk on up.”

      “I’m afraid that’s against hotel policy, ma’am.” The teenager ran a finger around his collar, and he looked flushed.

      Sizing up her options, she leaned forward on the counter, making sure the coat gaped just enough for a glimpse of the pink bustier. She looked at his name tag. “Um, Ben—may I call you Ben?”

      He nodded, his gaze riveted on the opening in her coat.

      “Ben, Mr. Larsen is my fiancé, and we’re getting married here on Saturday. I dropped by to, um, surprise him, and I’d hate to tell him that you’re the one who wouldn’t let me up to his room.”

      Ben swallowed. “I’ll call his room a-g-gain.” He picked up the phone and dialed, then gave her a weak smile. “Still busy.”

      She assumed a wounded expression, and leaned closer. “Ben, can’t you make an exception, just this one teensy-weensy time?”

      “Is there a problem here, Ben?”

      Janine turned her head to see a tall blond man wearing a hotel sport coat standing a few steps away.

      The young man straightened. “No, Mr. Oliver. This lady needs to see a guest, but the line is busy.”

      The blond man’s clear blue eyes seemed to miss nothing as his gaze flitted over her, then he turned to Ben, obviously his employee. “Ben, there seems to be a bug going around and you look a little feverish. Why don’t you take a break and I’ll help our guest.”

      Ben scooted away and Mr. Oliver took his place behind the counter. “Good evening, ma’am. I’m Manny Oliver, the general manager. How can I help you?” His smile was genuine, and his voice friendly. She immediately liked him and her first thought was that he was as sharp as a tack. She hoped she didn’t look drunk.

      “I’m Janine Murphy and I came to visit my fiancé, Steve Larsen. We’re having our rehearsal dinner here tomorrow—I mean, tonight, and our wedding in your gazebo on Saturday.”

      He nodded. “Congratulations. I’m familiar with the arrangements. Now, let me see what I can do for you.” He consulted a computer, then picked up the phone and dialed. A few seconds later, he returned the handset. “Mr. Larsen’s phone is still busy, but I’d be glad to walk up and knock on his door to let him know you’re here.”

      The best she could manage was a half smile.

      Mr. Oliver leaned on the counter, an amused expression on his smooth face. “Why do I have the feeling there’s more to this story?” He nodded to her gapped coat.

      Janine pulled her coat lapels closed. “I…I thought I would surprise him. He’s staying here tonight because his house is full of relatives and his groomsmen were taking him out for his bachelor party.”

      He checked his watch. “And he’s back already?”

      She nodded. “I called before I left, and he answered the phone.”

      “So he does know you’re coming?”

      “No, I hung up. This is supposed to be a surprise.”

      He pursed his lips and mirth lit his eyes. “You’ve never done anything like this before, have you?”

      Janine winced. “No, but after a half bottle of wine, it seemed like a good idea when my sister suggested it.”

      Suddenly he laughed and shook his head. “You remind me of some friends of mine.”

      “Is that good?”

      Pure affection shone on his face. “Very.”

      “So you’ll give me his room key?”

      He stroked his chin as he studied her. “Ms. Murphy, even though it’s none of my business, I have to ask because you seem like a nice woman.” He lowered his chin and his voice. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky to surprise a man on the night of his bachelor party?”

      “But he was asleep when I called,” she said.

      He pressed his lips together and lifted his eyebrows, then stared at her until realization dawned on her.

      “Oh, Steve wouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head.

      “Alcohol can make a person do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do,” he said, giving her a pointed look. Then he patted her hand. “My advice would be to save it for the honeymoon, doll.”

      She wasn’t sure where the tears came from, but suddenly a box of tissues materialized and the man was dabbing at her face.

      “You’d better switch to waterproof mascara before the ceremony,” he СКАЧАТЬ