CA 35 Christmas Past Read Free

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floors.
               
                Room 403 was one of
four luxury suites on the top floor. Fortunately the suite was located on the
west side, which would allow for plenty of good light in the room. The dark was
another thing he was having trouble with lately. He hadn’t been afraid of the
dark since he was a kid.
                He shook his head as he
slid the key into the lock. If he didn’t get a handle on this out-of-control
anxiety, he was going to lose the ability to walk out the door at all. He
couldn’t let that happen.
                The green light blinked
and he opened the door and stepped into the suite.
                Two things struck him
as odd the moment the door closed behind him.
                The fruity scent of
shampoo was in the air, and the television was set to some reality show he
wouldn’t watch in a million years.
                Moving cautiously, he
crossed the sitting room and entered the generous bedroom.
                An open suitcase sat in
the chair by the window, its contents hanging out as if there had been an
explosion of silk and cashmere.
                He dropped his bags on
the floor and walked over to the chair. A pair of silky panties lay on top of
the bag. He picked up the scrap of silk and lace and turned it around and
around. Not much to it other than a little frilly lace with a tiny pink bow.
The matching bra hung from the chair arm.
                What the…?
                He dropped the panties,
turned around to survey the rest of the room more closely and noted other signs
of occupancy. A shoulder bag sitting on the floor by the bed. Discarded jeans and sweater. Unlaced
boots.
                Another bag, this one
stationed in the corner near the armoire, held climbing gear.
                Had the check-in clerk
made a mistake? Given him the wrong room.
                He should just leave.
                Go back down to the
front desk and let them know that there was a mistake.
                A lull in the sound on
the television channel allowed him to hear the water running in the shower.
                Definitely, he had to
get out of here. The lady was in the shower. Having her come out naked and find
him loitering about was as appealing as a blowout on the final lap.
                He was halfway across
the room when the bathroom door opened. Amid a billow of sweet-scented steam, a
woman emerged wrapped in a towel. Outside of breaking into a full-throttle run,
he wasn’t getting away before she laid eyes on him.
               
                She screamed.
                Jason held up both
hands, stop-sign fashion. “It’s not what you think. There’s been a mistake.”
                For a single second she
stood there staring at him, big brown eyes wide with surprise or maybe fear,
dark hair dripping, sending rivulets of water down her bare shoulders. Then she
launched into action.
                “Damn straight there’s
been a mistake.” She grabbed a bottle of wine from the table next to the bed
and held it up like a weapon. “And it was yours. Now get out of here before I
call security!”
                Jason backed up a step.
“Look, I just came to the room the clerk gave me.” He waved the key in his
hand. “This is 403.”
                “That’s right.” She
glared at him, lifted her chin defiantly. “And it’s my room.”
                “I’m sure a quick call
to the desk will straighten this out.” Great. This was
all he needed. If the woman recognized who he was, she could blow the whole
thing out of proportion just to get some hush money. The team’s attorneys
warned him all the time about situations exactly like this.
                “There’s nothing to
straighten out,” she