again?” the same person demanded. “Is this room eight oh four?”
“I have no idea,” Garrett replied before thinking better of it. He sat up and flipped on the light switch by the bed, but it took a second for his eyes to adjust enough to focus on the numbers typed into the printed directory on the telephone. “Uh, yeah, it is. Can I help you?”
He heard mumbled voices on the other end, then the caller told a person in the background, “It’s her room, but some guy answered.”
Wait, did they know the woman from last night? “Excuse me. Hello? Do you know the woman who was staying in this room?”
“Oh, my gosh! Is there a problem?” The caller’s voice became frantic. “Did something happen to her?”
Heck, he wasn’t trying to scare anyone or cause an alarm. “What? No. I...uh...met her last night, but I didn’t catch her name.”
“If you don’t know her name then why are you in her room?”
That was a damn good question. And one he didn’t have an answer for.
“Is anyone there?” After a few seconds, the caller said, “Maybe we should call hotel security.”
“No.” Garrett stood up. “No need to call security. I think she left. She invited me up here and...” He let his voice trail off, not wanting to get the woman he’d slept with in trouble.
“No way. She would never invite some guy up to her hotel room.”
Clearly, this person wasn’t going to give him any answers and he couldn’t very well defend himself without incriminating someone else. “Oh, did you say you were calling room eight oh four? Sorry, this is room four oh eight. Apparently, there’s been a mix-up. Have a nice day.”
He quickly slammed the receiver down and tried to think about what to do next. But his brain wasn’t adapting as quickly as it used to when he’d get startled out of a deep slumber. Garrett had been a heavy sleeper ever since med school. When he was a resident at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego, he’d learned to crash whenever he got the chance. If there was an emergency, then an on-duty corpsman would be there to wake him up.
That must be why he’d never even heard the woman leave.
He stood in the hotel room, wearing nothing but a confused expression, looking at the tangled four-hundred-thread-count sheets and the empty bottle of champagne near the bed. He studied his bare torso in the mirror over the dresser and noticed the faint purple hue of a love bite on the left side of his neck. He ran a hand through his still-short military haircut, which made his already tender head ache even more. What could he possibly have been thinking to come back to a hotel room with a woman he’d just met?
Being raised with video cameras always hovering nearby, Garrett had learned to be especially cautious not to let anyone get too close to him for fear that they were after something bigger—like a shot at television stardom. Growing up under the harsh lights of studio sets back when his dad had been the star of his own television talk show, then later a producer of a string of other reality series, Garrett had suffered the spillover effects of being followed by the Hollywood paparazzi who constantly linked him to his dad’s notoriety.
He was thirty-six years old and still had a difficult time discerning women who were genuinely interested in him from those who were on the hunt for their fifteen minutes of fame.
And judging by the way the beautiful woman had sneaked out this morning without a trace, it was obvious she hadn’t been looking for much more than a good time. Or a notch in her D-list celebrity belt.
How could he have been so stupid?
Had his father set this up? Had she been sent by the show’s assistants? Was the caller standing outside right now with a camera, hoping to catch them in the act? He hadn’t watched any of his dad’s shows in several years, but at dinner last night, his old man had confided that ratings were down and if they couldn’t breathe some new life into the series, he could be facing cancellation.
God, he hoped this wasn’t some sort of last-ditch publicity stunt.
No. He was pretty sure his gut reaction last night had been on target. The caller sounded surprised that the woman would take a man up to her room. So hopefully she had simply been a lonely traveler looking for a little excitement and companionship.
His official discharge from the military was right around the corner and he didn’t want to worry about any risqué photos or incriminating evidence ruining his career.
Still. He’d hate for any news about him to leak to the press. He’d spent his whole adult life avoiding the cameras, and the only place he’d been able to feel comfortable in his own skin was in the navy. Garrett had purposely volunteered for the most remote assignments whenever possible just to escape the constant media attention that came from being Dr. Gerald McCormick’s son.
He damn well wasn’t going to blow his cover now, which was exactly what he’d told his father at dinner yesterday evening when they’d gotten into their heated argument about the career path he’d just taken.
Garrett sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the abandoned luggage stand in the open closet. He remembered the woman had an open suitcase there last night. And she’d already had a key to this room when they’d come upstairs. He let out a breath and eased back onto the bed. So she had obviously been a registered hotel guest, and since even he had no idea that he’d end up at some hotel bar when he’d stormed out of the restaurant a few blocks away, then nobody would’ve had the foresight to set him up.
That was one crisis averted. There was also the fact that he’d been the one who’d approached her. Fragments of conversation were slowly coming back to him. She’d said she was a dancer—well, she’d definitely had the lithe and graceful body to prove it. She’d also mentioned not being from Boise. Maybe she was just some bored housewife who had to fly home before her husband and kids woke up.
Wait, she’d said she didn’t have kids. He couldn’t remember anything about a husband, but would she have been honest if she’d had one?
He pulled a pillow over his head, wishing he could bury his shame along with his guilt. He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t the cause of some poor cuckold’s broken heart. But inhaling was a big mistake because when he did, the lingering aroma of jasmine tickled his nose, reminding him of her intoxicating fragrance and of how he hadn’t been able to get enough of her heady scent. Of how he’d smelled, kissed and tasted every square inch of the woman’s perfect, flexible body last night.
Crap. The woman? He still didn’t even know her name.
This wasn’t like him. Lieutenant Commander Garrett McCormick was a trained battlefield surgeon and an orthopedic specialist. He was cool under pressure and never got rattled. He for sure never let his guard down and didn’t do anything unbecoming an officer. So then why had he allowed some sad-eyed, incredibly stunning woman get to him? What had come over him?
He took one last sniff and then threw the pillow to the floor. Lust, he thought before standing up and striding toward the bathroom. That’s what had gotten into him. Pure, old-fashioned lust combined with frustration at his old man and a need to establish his autonomy with a woman who’d actually taken the time to listen to him and could relate to having an overbearing and egotistical parent.
He wasn’t
