“Aww, do you need to talk?”

“Like I need a second asshole.” Another slow sip of whiskey. “My roommate made me promise not to bring women back to our room in return for closet space, and I don’t much feel like fucking you in the bathroom, no offense.”

The woman chuckles into her white wine glass and takes a drink. “None taken. You like her?”

“Not particularly.”

“She likes you?”

I smile and for the first time since she sat down, turn to look my new friend in the eye. “She hates my guts.”

Looking at her more clearly, I realize my new friend is very beautiful. Sexy, cat-like, deep blue eyes, and a long slender neck I wouldn’t mind licking the length of.

“Hate is a very passionate emotion,” she says. “My name is Rebecca.”

“So is disgust.” I tip my glass toward her. “Aleck.”

“Let me ask you something, Aleck…”

She takes a drink of her white wine, but her eyes are on the bartender. I know her type, she’s from out of town, probably on business, probably married, and she wants to get dicked by a mysterious stranger she doesn’t have to answer to the next day. She will because she’s incredibly sexy and guys are shit, but not by me. Probably by the bartender—me from a different dimension.

“She could have traded you anything for that closet space, right? Why did she make you promise not to bring women back to the room?”

“Because she knew I would…”

“And that bothers her, why?”

Nope. Not this girl, not Winter. She probably didn’t want me bringing women back to the room because she’s nun-status boring. Listen, I enjoy our banter, the fuck if I know why. But Sister Winter isn’t even in the vicinity of the type of woman I go for. She’s all kinds of sexy, in a so-pure-I-would-ruin-her kind of way, but she’d get a taste of what it’s like to let me own her body and fall in love. It’s happened before, and I don’t need that kind of headache. Or guilty conscious—I’m sure I have one in there somewhere.

“I don’t know, but it’s not because she’s interested,” I say. “And I wouldn’t care if she were. She’s a nightmare, trust me.”

I swallow down the rest of my whiskey, nodding at the bartender. “Close my tab, please. And put her next drink on it.”

“Of course, sir.” He nods.

“Rebecca, it was nice meeting you. It’s been a crazy few days, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to retire to my room.”

“Have an enjoyable night, Aleck. I hope your roommate knows how lucky she is.”

“Right, right. I hope your husband knows he’s not.”

She laughs, tipping her glass toward me. “Touché, Mr. Darcy.”

* * *

Sitting up abruptly, wearing nothing but my boxer briefs and a frown, I whip my head toward the window, finding only darkness and a soft glow from the pier lights in the distance.