CHAPTER ONE
He was the kind of man her father would have shot on sight—faded jeans that hung low on his hips, a dark t-shirt under a black leather jacket, wavy brown hair that drifted past the collar of his jacket, a day's growth of beard on his face and a wicked smile in his dark brown eyes.
Maggie Gordon smiled to herself as she watched the man walk the length of the luxurious lobby. He knew he was being watched. He'd probably known it since he'd roared up in front of Napa Valley's prestigious Stratton Hotel on his motorcycle and casually deposited it with the valet. Judging by the swagger of his walk, he didn't give a damn what anyone thought.
He was a lucky guy not to have to follow the rules or worry about the opinion of others. Maggie had never had that kind of freedom, not with an Army general for a father, and certainly not with a rigid boss like Harry Stone.
The thought of her manager made her stand up straighter, and the grin that was lurking at the corners of her mouth vanished. She could not afford to lose her job, not after the last six years of saving every dollar from every paycheck in order to be able to buy a house of her own one day. Now, she was so close to having her dream come true, she could taste it.
The man's booted heels clicked against the marble floor as he came to a halt in front of the desk. He set his black duffel bag down on the floor, casting one sweeping look around the lobby, obviously amused by the attention he was drawing from a group of older women by the elevator. While Maggie quite approved of his rugged, sexy appearance, the women in town for a convention regarded him with disdain, as if he'd just dragged some dirt into the hotel.
The man directed his gaze at her, a smile lurking in his eyes.
"May I help you?" Maggie asked, pleased by the cool tone of her voice. It was a nice contrast to the unexpected heat surging through her body. It had been awhile since she'd felt such a jolt of attraction.
The man gave her a long look, and then said, "Kathy?"
She looked at him in surprise. "What? I'm not—"
"I've missed you, baby. Come here and give me a kiss."
Before she could say she wasn't Kathy, he reached across the counter and grabbed her by the shoulder. She had no time to do anything but open her mouth, which was a definite mistake. His kiss was hot and hungry, his tongue sliding inside her mouth, bringing a wave of heat along with it.
"Miss Gordon!" Harry Stone's shocked voice brought her to her senses.
She immediately pulled away, blinking somewhat dazedly at the handsome stranger who'd just kissed the breath out of her.
"What is going on here?" her manager demanded, his homely, round face turning red with anger as he moved down the counter.
Maggie's hand flew to her mouth, her lips still tingling from the impact of his kiss. "I—I—" She looked at her boss in confusion and then back at the man who had started it all.
He grinned, no trace of remorse in his eyes. Instead, there was a sparkle and the lingering gleam of passion, which only made her feel more unsettled. It was time to regain control of the situation.
"Why did you do that?" she demanded.
"I thought you were someone else. My mistake." He cocked his head to the right as he studied her face. "I guess you don't look much like her after all, and you sure as hell don't kiss like her."
Maggie frowned at what sounded like a negative comparison, but as her manager cleared his throat again, she realized this stranger's opinion of her was the least of her problems.
"Do you have a reservation?" she asked, getting back to business.
"Cole Hastings."
She put his name into the computer. "How do you want to pay for this?"
He pushed a credit card across the counter. She ran the card and then completed the check-in while Harry Stone watched her every move.
"Room 316 would be a better choice," Harry said as the assigned room number appeared on the screen.
She cast him a quick look. Room 316 was on the street side and over the garbage area. It was the worst room in the hotel. "We have an opening on the fourth floor," she replied in a hushed voice.
"No, that one is reserved." He reached over her and punched the buttons to change the room number. Maggie had no choice but to hand Mr. Hastings a key and hope he wouldn't come to her to complain.
Cole sent her a thoughtful glance and then signed the bill without comment.
"Enjoy your stay," Maggie said politely, adding silently that she hoped it would be shorter than the ten days he had registered for.
"It's off to a good start," he said with a wicked smile. Then he picked up his duffel bag, swung it over one shoulder and sauntered toward the elevator.
Maggie took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her heart was still pounding against her ribs, her pulse racing faster than it did during her workouts. What on earth was the matter with her? You'd think she'd never been kissed before. Although, she'd never been kissed quite like that. Whoever Kathy was—she was a lucky woman.
"Your behavior was unprofessional," Harry said, drawing her attention back to him. His face was lined with irritation. "You're treading on thin ice, Miss Gordon. You continue to get involved with our guests in a manner that goes beyond your duties."
"Mr. Stone, please. I do not know why that man kissed me. I did nothing to encourage him. You heard him. He mistook me for someone else."
He looked at her in obvious disbelief. "I've been working in the hotel business for over fifteen years, and I've never seen that happen before."
"There's a first time for everything."
Her comment only heightened his anger. "Your attitude is not appreciated. This incident will go in your file, which I'll be reviewing with Mrs. Stratton next month. Any more events like this, and you'll be looking for another job."
"It will never happen again. I love this job. I need it." It went against the grain to beg, but she couldn't let him kill her dream because of a stranger's mistake.
"Then do your job quietly and efficiently. This is a luxury hotel. We are courteous, helpful and above all, discreet. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have to go out for an hour. Try not to get into any more trouble before dinner."
Maggie nodded, breathing a sigh of relief as her manager left the reception area. Harry Stone had always been hard and rigid but in the last two months he'd become quite antagonistic toward her, and she didn't really understand why.
"You certainly liven this place up." Karen Monte, a tall, slim blonde, walked around the counter and slipped her purse into a desk drawer as she returned from lunch.
"What did you see?"
"Everything. Who was the hot guy you were kissing?"
"He was kissing me. And I don't know who he was. He just reached across the counter and grabbed me. He called me Kathy. It was the strangest thing. He said he thought I was someone else."
Karen shook her head in amazement. "Why don't things like that ever happen to me? The most attention I got today was when a foreign tour group asked me to be in their holiday photograph." She paused, taking a quick glance around the lobby, but most of the interested onlookers were now going about their own business. "So, how was the kiss?"
"How was it?" Maggie echoed. "It was—" She shrugged her shoulders, trying to think of an adequate description, like wonderful or fantastic or unbelievable. No, those words weren't right at all. "It doesn't matter how it was; he almost got me fired. I should have slapped his face."
"Really? Because if a man who looked like that kissed me, I'd be more interested in kissing him back."
"That man is trouble. I hope I never see him again." Maggie turned away from Karen and self-consciously touched her fingers to her tingling lips.
Cole Hastings had turned her world upside down with thirty seconds of heat. She had gotten a taste of that elusive something she had always wondered about, and it had to come from the absolutely wrong man. Cole kissed like an outlaw, and she was looking for a good guy this time around. She'd tried reforming a bad boy once before; she wouldn't do it again.
* * *
Cole stretched out on the bed, raising his arms over his head and letting the tension unwind from his stiff muscles. So much for the freedom of a motorcycle; he felt as if he'd been on horseback for three days straight. Muscles he didn't even know he had were aching.
Still, it was a good ache. Physical exertion and the pain of exercise had helped block out the emotional pain for over two years now. He could hardly believe it had been that long.
He closed his eyes, thinking about the happy oblivion of sleep. But instead of seeing the welcoming cocoon of darkness, he saw a cloud of strawberry blonde hair, light blue eyes and a soft, open mouth. He smiled to himself. The look on her face had been priceless.
He had kissed her for a lark. She had look so damned straitlaced in her navy blue skirt and button-down blouse. He had wanted to shake her up, and he had. Unfortunately, he'd also shaken himself up.
So, go to sleep, he told himself, but her face kept floating in front of his eyes, and he absentmindedly rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth.
Her kiss had been more than he bargained for. He had expected her to yank away, not kiss him back with such warm, spontaneous generosity.
The hotel phone rang, and he opened his eyes with a groan. Although he wanted to think the beautiful hotel clerk was reaching out, he had a feeling he knew exactly who was on the line. He lifted the receiver. "Yeah?"
"Is that the way your mother taught you to answer the phone?" The woman's voice was sharp and stern and brought a smile to his lips.
"Aunt Ida. You must have ESP. I just checked in."
"Not ESP, just an ear to the ground. You caused quite a stir in my lobby. How are you, dear?"
He yawned. "Tired. I drove up from LA today. It was quite a ride." He stuffed a pillow more comfortably under his head, knowing his aunt's penchant for long conversations.
"You're not still driving that motorcycle, are you?"
"Yes. It suits me. I'm a rambling man these days. You know that."
"I do, and some days I'd like to join you on the back of that bike."
The sparkle in her voice made him smile at the thought of his seventy-year-old aunt hanging onto his waist as they careened around a corner. The rest of the family would be horrified, but she would probably love it.
"I'm dying to see you, honey," Ida continued. "I want to talk about the hotel and some other things."
"What other things?" He sat up, knowing he better have his wits about him, or Ida would talk him into something he didn't want to do. She was very difficult to say no to. "I told you I'd come up here to see you and check out your operation, but nothing long-term. You understand that, don't you? I'm leaving in ten days."
"Of course you are."
"Aunt Ida," he said warningly. "Don't get any ideas about pulling me deeper into the family business. I like being the occasional troubleshooter. I get to travel all over the country and never see the same people twice, but that's it."
"Some people are worth seeing twice, but I'm not going to push. I do, however, insist that we have some fun while you're here. Although, I think you may have started without me. Did you really kiss my front desk clerk?"
Cole smiled. "Guilty."
"You're a bad boy."
"And I've been punished with the worst room in the hotel." Cole looked around as he spoke. He had a queen-sized bed and a decent-sized TV, but the room overlooked the garbage, which would be loud on pick-up day, and he suspected there were other hidden annoyances. After spending the past year traveling to each of the Stratton hotels and some of the hotels belonging to competing brands, he had a good idea where most hotel skeletons were hidden.
"I'm sorry about that," Ida continued. "Maybe next time you'll behave yourself. And why did you kiss Maggie? I thought you told me you weren't interested in women anymore."
"On a short-term basis they're okay."
There was a long silence, and Cole knew that Ida was an expert at reading between the lines. That's why he hadn't come to her hotel during the past few years. He'd preferred to talk to her on the phone or in email. Face-to-face, she would probably have more probing questions than he cared to answer. "Why don't I give you a call later?" he suggested. "I'm exhausted. I want to catch a nap."
"Of course. We'll have dinner. I know a wonderful restaurant that serves Thai food. You'll love it."
"Great. But I hope you chose a restaurant away from the hotel. We shouldn't be seen together."
"It's a little café miles away; it will be perfect. We can meet there. I'll text you the address."
"Really? You're into texting now?"
"I keep up," she said with a laugh.
"Great."
"Do you have any questions for me?"
He paused for one second too long.
"Her name is Maggie Gordon," Ida said. "Don't get any ideas about her."
"Why not? Is she married?"
"No, but she's so amazing that you wouldn't be able to leave her in ten days, and I know you don't want to change your plans."
Cole laughed. "You're waving a red flag right in my face. There's not a woman alive who could make me want to stay in one place—not ever again."
Ida sighed. "You remind me so much of myself."
"How so?"
"I used to think I knew everything, too."
