In Bed With The Wild One: In Bed With The Wild One / In Bed With The Pirate. Colleen Collins

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      Chapter 3

      BUT SHE DIDN’T SAY THAT. “I’ll be staying through the weekend, I think. Have to be back in the office on Monday.”

      “Great.” Kate beamed at her. “You’ll be in the Pollyanna room.”

      “The Pollyanna room?” she echoed. Pollyanna? But she was hoping for…“Isn’t there anything else?”

      “Sorry,” Kate replied. “Pollyanna is the only room available. But I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s very lacy and feminine—just right for someone like you.”

      “Someone like me…right.”

      Which was exactly what she was trying to avoid.

      “I’m really sorry.” The innkeeper lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I completely understand. I think Pollyanna is kind of lame, too. But my mom made me add it. She thinks the other rooms are too—oh, I don’t know—slutty or something. Mothers.” She rolled her eyes. “Can’t live with them, and they won’t let you live without them.”

      “I hear you.”

      Kate edged the register book in front of her and then stooped down under the desk. From down there, she called, “Hang on. I have to get a pen off the floor—that darn Beau!” Straightening, she handed over a felt-tip. “Okay. Now I’ll need you to fill in your name and address.”

      The register. The very one Tyler had signed a few minutes ago. With heightened anticipation, Emily pulled the book closer, eager to read whatever he’d written about himself.

      But it was just a blank page. Darn it. Emily’s registration was the first one on a new page, and she was going to have to very conspicuously turn the page back if she wanted to read his information.

      “Is there something wrong?” Kate inquired.

      “Oh, no. Well,” she said, improvising, “this pen is dried out. Do you have a different one?”

      As Kate once again ducked under the desk, Emily grabbed her chance, flipping the page back, squinting at the slash of rotten handwriting to make out “Tyler O’Toole, Chicago, IL,” and then several blank lines.

      Quickly she put the register back the way it was, just in time for Kate to pop up with a pencil. Emily took it and scribbled down her own name and address.

      Okay, so he wasn’t terribly good at filling out forms and he hadn’t given her much to go on. At least she knew his last name now. Tyler O’Toole.

      Speaking of last names…she glanced down at her own. Was it wise to use her real name? Or smarter to go with a fake one just in case her mother started looking for her?

      While Kate was occupied tidying up the pencil cup, Emily erased her last name and penciled in the first cool name that popped into her head. “Bond,” she wrote. Emily Bond.

      After spinning the book around to read the name, Kate smiled. “Nice to meet you, Emily.” Then she turned to pull an old-fashioned key off a hook. “Okay. Pollyanna is the first room on the right at the top of the stairs. There’s a doll on the door—that’s how you’ll know it’s Pollyanna.”

      “Pollyanna and baby dolls,” Emily murmured, feeling more disappointed by the minute. It sounded like her room when she was twelve. As the youngest child and the only girl in the Chaplin family, she’d had to endure all kinds of smothering, fussy stuff. “I’ll be sure to look for the doll.”

      Handing over the key, Kate began to list a few other B and B procedures, something about when she wanted breakfast, and did she like coffee or tea, and would she want afternoon snacks, and checkout time. But Emily just nodded at appropriate times, not really paying attention. She was too busy watching Tyler slip back down the stairs and head this way. Beau nipped at his heels, but Tyler grabbed the big tabby in the crook of one arm and then deposited him with Kate.

      Hanging on to the squirming cat, she interrupted her welcoming spiel to ask him, “On your way out so soon?”

      He nodded, edging toward the door.

      On his way out? But he couldn’t be yet. Emily needed to follow him, but it was difficult to do that in the middle of registering. How blatant would it be if she ran out now, without even looking at the Pollyanna room, just dropping everything and racing after him? Pretty blatant.

      Beau gave a howl and Kate dropped him. After landing with a big thud, the cat immediately attached himself to Emily’s legs, winding around, meowing, giving her a plaintive stare from those infuriating green eyes.

      “I—I guess he likes me,” Emily murmured.

      So why was he bumping her with his head and nudging her closer to Tyler? Was the cat actually telling her to go for it?

      “Now, now,” she said sweetly, trying to disengage herself. But Beau was a stubborn little beast, and he rammed his whole weight into her, pushing her after Tyler.

      Tyler’s moody gaze swept the two of them. Was that suspicion she read in the clear green depth of his eyes? Or interest? Just before he cleared the door, his hand already on the brass knob, Tyler stopped. He turned back.

      “The airport, the cab…” he said slowly. “Do I know you?”

      “Um, no.” Suddenly reckless, taking her opening where she could get it, Emily asked, “But would you like to?”

      “Would I like to what?”

      He gave her an odd look, but it spoke volumes. It was the same one that said, Who gave you a day pass from the loony bin?

      She hated that look.

      And then he shook his head, frowned at her, shoved open the door and took off for parts unknown, leaving her holding the key to the Pollyanna room.

      Emily closed her eyes and tried not to feel like an absolute doofus. The first time in her life СКАЧАТЬ