So, I sound a little bratty, but that’s the only way I can mask the lust that arises just from imagining what we could do in that bed…or around the room.

Keep those thoughts away, Solis!

He’s your boss. 

He’s your boss.

“You heard the man,” he says, setting the bags in the closet and opening the balcony doors. “They were booked solid.”

“Well then, you’re taking the couch,” I say when I look at the king-size bed.

He gives me an amused glance. “I don’t fit on the couch.”

“You said this was a suite.”

He glares at me as he speaks over the phone. “Yes, It’s Miller Archer from room 1225. We booked a suite.”

He looks around and then at the bed. “Yes, I realize the room has a balcony and a view. This isn’t a suite. More points on my account?” He sighs. “That’s not enough.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and thanks the guy on the phone.

“What happened?”

“As they said, they don’t have any other rooms available,” he laments, looking at the bed. “It’s big enough to fit the two of us though.”

“You promised me a separate room.” I use my firmest voice.

“We’ll ask for extra pillows and put a barrier between us,” he suggests.

“I’m serious, Miller. If we’re keeping this room, you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“We can share the king-size bed,” he insists. “You’re just a little tiny thing.”

“A little thing?” I squint my eyes at him. “Five foot four is considered average height for women. And you’re only a foot taller than me.”

“Only a foot?”

I point my finger and say, “Do not derail the conversation with dirty innuendo.”

He raises his hands, as if he’s surrendering, and shrugs his shoulders. “I wouldn’t dare. Why don’t you do me a favor? Put that finger down and let’s talk about this.”

“You’re already out of favors, Miller Archer,” I warn him, taking a step back. “And keep your tall, manly body away from me.”

“Because I’m hot.”

“No, because I like to have my own space,” I say. “Why did I let you talk me into doing this?”

“Because deep down you’re a nice person.”

“Hey, I am a nice person.”

“Yeah, sure, with everyone but me.”

“Treat others the way you want to be treated, Mr. Archer. I’m not going to be friends with the emperor of doom.”

He eyes my luggage and asks, “Any chance you brought a couple of dresses that would work for the rehearsal dinner and wedding?”

I laugh hysterically. “You’re precious, Archer.”

“That’s a no,” he says matter-of-factly. “There are a few boutiques downtown.”

He grabs his phone and starts tapping the screen madly. “A Christian Dior, Prada, and some other stores. We should go and get you some outfits.”