used his lemon-scented body wash and scrubbed her hair with the masculinely-branded shampoo. Feeling at least a little better, she switched off the water and stepped out the shower. The towels felt even fluffier and softer than they looked. Whoever Demi-God was, he could afford one of the best hotels in town that was for sure.
Whether he’d won it all in the casino last night, or earned it the regular way, she didn’t care. Either way, she hoped she hadn’t signed a pre-nup.
She shook her head. Focus, Phoenix.
She needed clothes, but hers were strewn across the floor of the suite, and getting to them would mean having to face Demi-God again. She wasn’t ready for that.
Beside the door hung a cotton bathrobe. This was Vegas. As long as she wasn’t running down the street naked, she could probably still hail a cab without getting arrested for indecency. She covered herself and faced the mirror again. Much better.
Now she had to figure out an escape route, preferably one that didn’t involve having to get past her new husband first. Morning After small talk was bad enough without having to throw in ‘Who the hell are you?’ too. Not to mention, heaven only knew what her endorphins might do if she had to face him again.
The window.
There was only one, high up over the massive spa bath. She climbed up on the bath ledge and wrestled with the latch. With an ominous and over-loud squeak it finally gave way, and she shoved it open as far as it would go.
Damn. Regulation four inches.
“Are you okay in there?” Demi-God’s voice sounded very close to the bathroom door and her heart hammered.
“I’m fine.” Insane, crazy, desperate, but just fine.
Phoenix looked back at the window. It was high. It was extremely narrow. But as long as she didn’t breathe, she could do this. She hoped. Arms, head or legs first?
She’d only done this once before, but if she could do it once, she could do it again. All she needed was a ledge to stand on once she was out and a drainpipe to shimmy down. This time should be even easier, since she was barefoot.
As there was no curtain rail to hoist herself up with, she opted for arms first. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gripped the window frame, and pulled herself up. Then carrying her weight on her arms, she leaned through the gap to look out. And wished she hadn’t.
No frickin’ way. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but this was high. And this certainly wasn’t anything like that three storey boutique hotel in Miami she’d escaped from. Even if she could squeeze herself through a four inch gap, there was nothing but a thirty storey fall on the other side. Give or take a few storeys.
Four inches was a whole lot smaller than she remembered. Her arms were scraped by the time she managed to wriggle backwards onto solid ground.
Okay, re-group.
She sat on the cold toilet seat and wiped her arms down with a damp facecloth.
One bonus. At least now she knew it was morning. Probably tomorrow morning. Which meant she hadn’t just lost a few hours, but had a whole day and night to account for. And at least one bottle of champagne.
Well, she couldn’t change what was past, so she would focus on the here and now. Since escape wasn’t an option, she should unbolt the door and go out there, get her clothes, tell Demi-God ‘That was fun. Have a nice life’ and leave the traditional way.
Or she could sit right here until the maids came in to make up the room and use them as cover to duck out?
Option B it was. She stuck her hands between her knees. Had the bathroom shrunk? The walls seemed to be pressing in.
“You still in there?” The voice on the other side of the door sounded concerned now.
“Sure. Where else would I be?” Spread across the asphalt thirty storeys down?
“The coffee’s getting cold.”
At the thought of coffee, her mouth watered.
“You want to talk?”
No, she didn’t want to talk. She twisted the ring around her finger. The craftsmanship was certainly awe-inspiring. The carved silver roses even had petals. Nope, the producers of Pranked definitely weren’t that imaginative.
“I hope you’re not having second thoughts this morning.” This time Demi-God didn’t sound at all concerned. He sounded amused, confident no woman wouldn’t want to be married to him.
I’ve got news for you.
“I know it’s sudden, but see this as just another fun adventure,” he said.
Sure. Like root canal was fun.
“You know I thought I’d be the one needing time to adjust to the idea. Are you sure you’re okay in there? Is there anything I can get you?”
He wasn’t going to let her be, was he? If she didn’t go out there and face the music, he’d probably call Security to bang the door down. Actually, that could work…
But if she had to sit still another moment longer, she’d go mental. “I’m fine. I like my coffee black, one sugar.”
When she heard the clatter of coffee cups in the distance, her stomach growled. Maybe staying for coffee wouldn’t be so bad. She could explain this was all a big mistake, get dressed and leave like any rational person. She could do rational.
But if she was going to do this, she wanted a rough idea of who her host was, where she was, and how to get home.
She rummaged through the bathroom cupboard. There was nothing there except the usual hotel branded toiletries. At least now she knew where she was. The Mandarin Oriental.
Talk about getting lucky. She’d always wanted to spend a night at the Mandarin.
Next, she tackled the leather toiletry bag beside the sink. Jackpot!
A small container of headache tablets with the name Max Waldburg and the contact details of a pharmacy in Napa.
Mrs. Waldburg … no, that definitely didn’t sound like her. Hell, Mrs. Anything didn’t sound like her. She was a tumbleweed, an adventurer, not a married woman tied to some man she barely knew.
She swallowed one of the tablets, combed her hair, then found a complementary airline toothbrush and toothpaste in the bag, and brushed her teeth.
Okay, she was as ready as she was ever going to be. Sucking in a deep breath, she headed for the door.
The first thing to assault her senses as she emerged from the bathroom was the scent of bacon. Her stomach flipped in ecstasy. She was starved. Maybe coffee and bacon, and then she’d get away.
The suite was decorated in a slick Asian design, in soft creams and browns, but what grabbed her attention was the panoramic cityscape beyond the floor to ceiling windows. It looked a whole lot better from this angle, when you weren’t dangling over the
