Your Room or Mine?

carry-on-sized suitcase behind him, and in spite of his exhaustion, decided things were looking up. The grounds were beautiful, with perfectly manicured lawns and flower-lined paths, all lit by hidden lights and bathed in moonlight. The resort itself had been fashioned after an Italian villa. The pale yellow stucco exterior, dotted with elegantly curved arch-ways and black wrought iron balcony railings, made Jack feel as if he were visiting the shores of Lake Como rather than those of Lake Lanier. He’d visited the resort once, several years ago, and had been impressed with the service, food, amenities, and accommodations. He couldn’t wait to experience them all again. Like right now.

He entered the lobby, and the soaring ceiling, golden cream marble floor, woven rugs, carved columns, tasteful artwork, and the gentle scent of fresh flowers went by in a blur. All his attention was focused on four things: register, drink, eat, sleep. In that order. Right now he was much more interested in smelling a cheeseburger than anything that sat in a vase.

He spied the registration desk ahead and quickened his steps. Another guest was registering and it looked like only one person was behind the counter. Damn. Hopefully the woman registering was almost done, but somehow he always ended up stuck in line behind someone experiencing a major problem of some sort that required much help and much time.

As he drew closer, he idly noted that in spite of the prim cut of the registering woman’s brown suit, she had great legs. Just then she turned slightly, and his footsteps faltered as recognition hit him. He barely stifled the groan that rose in his throat. Of all people, why did it have to be her? Mad Dog Price was the last person he wanted to deal with now. Bad enough he’d be forced to see her in… he glanced at his watch. Eight hours.

He kept walking, frowning as his eyeballs again zeroed in on her legs. They were pretty spectacular. Where the hell had they come from, and how the hell had he missed them? And how unfair that they were wasted on a dragon lady. Just then she rose up on her toes and leaned forward to say something around the vase of flowers to the man behind the counter who’d stepped to the side. Jack blinked. Wow. Even that mud-colored suit couldn’t quite hide what was clearly a very nice butt.

So intent was he on reaching his goal of the registration desk-and staring at her unexpectedly fine ass-that he didn’t realize she’d turned her head. And was staring at him. Staring at her ass.

When he looked up and made that discovery, his jaw tightened with self-directed annoyance. Bad enough he’d looked at her in a way that could only be described as an ogle. Really bad that he’d been caught in the act.

Damn. This day was going from bad to worse.

Making sure he kept his gaze steady on hers, he offered her a nod in greeting, one she returned, then he walked between the velvet ropes that marked the line for registration.

“I can take you here, sir,” said a young man with a bright smile who positioned himself before a computer next to the man helping Mad Dog. Jack moved up to the desk, parked his bag next to Madeline’s, then gave the clerk his name.

“You’re checking in late,” Madeline said.

“I could say the same to you.”

“I worked late.”

He detected the emphasis on the I and gritted his teeth. So he’d left work at five o’clock. He was allowed. His reasons were none of her business. Even though his better judgment told him to shut up, he found himself saying, “Some of us have a life outside the job.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he was surprised to find himself wondering what sort of life she led outside work. He realized that although he’d known her for a month, he didn’t know anything about her. Except that she was a thorn in his side and a pain in his ass. And really, that was all he needed to know.

“Ready for our big adventure tomorrow?” she asked.

Jack handed the clerk his credit card then turned toward Madeline. She was peering at him over the rims of her rectangular black-rimmed glasses. With her severely pulled back hair, she looked like a prim schoolmarm.

“Sure thing,” he answered. “Can’t wait. Really. I mean that. I’m not at all envious of the rest of the department who don’t need to check in until ten a.m. tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait, either.” She smiled and batted her eyes. “Mama needs a new lipstick.”

His gaze flicked down to her mouth and his jaw tightened at the sight of her full lips. Just as he had with her legs, he had to wonder where that plump, perfectly shaped mouth had come from and why he hadn’t noticed it until they’d placed their foolish bet yesterday. Right now her lips looked ripe and shiny-like a juicy peach. Peach… damn, he loved peaches. And damn, he was hungry.

A bellhop pushing a wheeled cart took charge of Jack’s bag and Madeline’s as well, jerking Jack’s attention from Mad Dog’s peachy lips. He was tempted to tell the bellhop he could handle his suitcase himself, but decided not to expend the effort. The bellhop headed toward the elevator, and Jack leaned against the counter, dreaming of a tall glass of something cold, a juicy cheeseburger, and a comfortable bed.

“You look beat up,” came Mad Dog’s voice. “Rough day?”

He swiveled his eyes toward her. “Gee, thanks. I might go all to pieces, what with so many compliments.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Just making an honest observation. Besides, I’m sure you already get plenty of compliments.”

Jack was certain that comment meant something snarky-as opposed to complimentary-but before his tired brain could figure it out, she accepted her key card from the man behind the counter. After thanking him, she said to Jack, “See you in the morning.”

Morning. Right. For their fun-filled orienteering extravaganza. Yippee. After taking his key card, he headed toward the elevator, and was not pleased to see that Mad Dog stood before the shiny brass door. He’d hoped she’d be gone already. As he approached, the green Up arrow glowed and the door slid open. He followed her into the paneled elevator.

“What floor?” she asked as she pushed the round button with a three on it.

“Three.” Great. Not only were they in the same hotel, they were staying on the same floor.

The door closed with a quiet whoosh, ensconcing them in the enclosed space. Soft music played. Jack noted her reflection in the shiny brass door, saw that her eyes slid closed. Clearly she was as tired as he.

“I heard a joke today,” she said, her eyes still closed. “What’s the definition of an accountant?”

“Just what I want-an accountant joke. Like I haven’t been hearing them since the day I declared my major in college. Any chance you won’t bother to tell me?”

A smile pulled up one corner of her mouth. “Nope. An accountant is someone who solves a problem you didn’t know you had in a way you don’t understand.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s a side-buster. Do you know the definition of a consultant?” Before she could answer, he said, “It’s a person who you will never hear say, ‘Everything looks okay to me.’ ”

To his surprise, she chuckled. “Guess I asked for that. What’s the difference between an accountant and a vampire?”

“A vampire only sucks blood at night. Believe me, I’ve heard them all. Here’s something else you’ll never hear a consultant say-”

“ ‘You’re right, we’re billing way too much for this.’ ” She opened her eyes and their gazes met in the brass reflection. “I’ve heard them all, too.”

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. He extended his arm, indicating she should precede him, and she raised her brows. “So polite,” she murmured as she exited.

He followed her, noting that she left a subtle hint of something that smelled really good in her wake. Something that smelled like… cookies? Damn. He loved cookies. His stomach rumbled.

“Just because I’m a bloodsucking vampire doesn’t mean I don’t have any manners.”

“At least you admit it.”

“That I have manners?”

“That you’re a bloodsucking vampire.”

His gaze settled on her neck and he was suddenly seized with the unwanted and inappropriate urge to nibble on that soft-looking skin to find out if she tasted as good as she smelled. “Says the consultant who admitted she’d