Romancing The Crown: Lorenzo and Anna: The Man Who Would Be King / The Princess And The Mercenary. Marilyn Pappano

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      “The clerk said we could take our pick,” he replied, “so you’re in three and I’m in nine. Unless you’d rather switch. They’re the same.”

      “Three’s fine,” she replied as he pulled up before her room. “You don’t have to get out. I can get my bag.”

      She might as well have saved her breath. He was out of the truck before she was and pulling her small suitcase from behind the seat, where they’d stored the luggage. “No problem,” he assured her. “Here, let me get your door for you, too.” And before she could stop him, he unlocked the door to her room for her and escorted her inside.

      There was nothing redeeming about the room, other than the fact that it was clean, but Eliza hardly noticed. In the small room, which was barely bigger than the full bed and dresser it held, Lorenzo stood so close she could smell the woodsy scent clinging to his skin and clothes. Long after he left to go to his own room, she knew the scent of him would linger to tease her senses.

      “It’s not much to look at,” he said, surveying the room, “but the clerk assured me the beds are new and the linens are clean. If you’re half as tired as I am, you’ll sleep like the dead.”

      “I’m sure I’ll be fine, thanks,” she replied.

      They agreed to meet at the truck at nine the following morning, and with a soft good-night, Lorenzo left to go to his own room. Watching the door shut quietly behind him, Eliza knew she was in trouble when she wanted to call him back. Suddenly lonely, she told herself they were spending too much time together. A break would do her good.

      But even as she acknowledged that she needed some time to herself to get her head on straight, she knew she couldn’t just sit in her room the rest of the evening and watch TV. She needed a distraction, something, anything, to get her mind off Lorenzo. Glancing out of the room’s narrow window, she found herself studying the bar next door. The bright neon sign in the window advertised food and live music. She and Lorenzo had had an early dinner, but that had been nearly an hour ago, and she hadn’t eaten much. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of some nachos, and she welcomed the distraction. Grabbing the key to her room, she shut the door behind her and headed for the bright lights across the parking lot.

      It was Friday night, and Eliza wasn’t surprised that the place was packed—nothing else in town was open. The parking lot was full of pickups, and inside, cowboys and their girls occupied every table. “It’s a twenty-minute wait,” the harried hostess told Eliza as a party of six walked in right behind her. “Sorry I can’t promise you anything sooner, but we’re shorthanded tonight, and it’s Friday.”

      That was all she needed to say. “I know what you mean,” Eliza told her with a smile. “I’ll wait at the bar.”

      She’d wanted a distraction, and she’d gotten one. As she took one of the few empty seats at the bar, she took in the sight and sound and smell of the place and its clientele for her story. She wanted to remember everything for her readers.

      “White wine,” she told the bartender when he was finally able to take her order.

      “Put that on my tab,” the cowboy sitting next to her said, shooting her a bold grin. “A lady shouldn’t have to pay for her own drink.”

      She saw the leer in his eyes and swallowed a groan. This wasn’t what she needed tonight. She was tired, she just wanted her wine and an order of nachos, and to be left alone. In the scheme of things, she didn’t think that was too much to ask.

      “Thanks,” she said shortly, “but I can buy my own drink.” Turning her attention back to the bartender, she lifted a brow at him. “How much do I owe you?”

      If she hadn’t been so tired, she would have noticed the cowboy was more than a little inebriated and, consequently, handled the situation differently. But she never saw the alcoholic glaze in his eyes—or the spark of anger that flared there at her words—until it was too late. The second the bartender took her money and walked away, her unwanted companion was leaning close and letting her have it with the sharp edge of his drunken tongue. “What’s the matter, Red? My money not good enough for you? Is that what you’re saying?’ Cause if it is, I don’t like your attitude, little girl. You hear me?”

      Oh, she heard him, all right. How could she not? He had her pinned in her seat, trapping her there, and suddenly, her heart was slamming against her ribs in fear. She might have been slender, but she’d never thought of herself as little—until she found herself being glowered at by six feet four inches of very angry cowboy.

      They were surrounded by people, she told herself. Nothing was going to happen to her in a crowded bar. But everything about the cowboy was threatening, and no one so much as glanced her way. The bartender was occupied at the other end of the bar, and everyone else was involved in their own conversations. Given the chance, he could have snapped her in two, and no one would have noticed until it was too late.

      “Look,” she said quickly, “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s nothing personal—”

      “She’s with me,” a familiar male voice said suddenly from behind her. “Have you got a problem with that?”

      Eliza had never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Glancing back over her shoulder, she smiled broadly. “Lorenzo! Thank God!”

      She knew she must have lit up like a Christmas tree at the sight of him, and the cowboy didn’t like it one bit. Giving Lorenzo a hard glare, he growled, “Who the hell are you?”

      “Her fiancé,” he lied without missing a beat. And just to be sure the cowboy understood, he laid his hand on Eliza’s shoulder, claiming her as his.

      For one heart-stopping moment, Eliza was sure the man was going to belt him. His dark eyes narrowed dangerously, and even as she watched, his hands clenched into fists. But then the bartender made his way back to their end of the bar, another couple waiting for a table took seats on the other side of them, and the cowboy thought better of causing any more trouble. Backing off, he muttered, “You can have her, man. She’s too skinny, anyway. I like my women with some meat on their bones.”

      Weak with relief, Eliza waited only until the man had turned and walked away before she burst out laughing and threw herself into Lorenzo’s arms. “Thank you! I was so scared! Did you see the size of his hands? I thought he was going to snap me in two like a toothpick.”

      “What did you say to him?” he asked with a grin, chuckling as he returned her hug. “For a minute there, I thought we were both toast.”

      “I don’t know what he was so bent out of shape about. All I did was insist on buying my own drink. Geez! You’d have thought I insulted his family name or something.”

      “If that’s his usual way of picking up a woman, no wonder he’s alone,” Lorenzo retorted. “Are you all right?”

      She laughed, feeling foolish. “Yeah, he just caught me off guard. I just came in for some nachos, and the next thing I know, a man’s trying to take my head off.”

      “Eliza, your table’s ready,” the hostess said over the speaker system that was wired into the bar and hostess area. “Table for Eliza.”

      “Finally!” she sighed, relieved. Completely forgetting the fact that she’d wanted some time away from him to get her head on straight, she smiled and said, “Would you like to join me? We can split an order СКАЧАТЬ