A Demon in Waiting (Crimson Romance) by Holley Trent

it’s funny,” Hitch conceded, as they crept through Little Rock in search of the hotel Ariel’s travel app claimed had vacancies. He didn’t seem tired at
all
and he hadn’t had a nap. When she’d been slumbering behind the steering wheel, he’d entertained himself by walking the trail that ran beside the rest station she’d parked at. She’d actually woke, yet again, in a state of panic at his disappearance, but when her mind cleared enough to find his backpack still in the car, her panic eased off. He’d actually returned shortly after, and she questioned herself on why this man was having such an effect on her.
    “I hope this place is okay,” Hitch said. “I’m not familiar with any of the chains and how good they are. It’s three and half stars. Is that good?”
    She swung a hard right into the hotel’s parking lot and circled around for a well-lit spot. “It’s fine. That’s about what we had last night.”
    “What would you be staying in if this were a vacation and not a prescribed road trip?”
    That made her laugh. “I’m not picky, really. As long as the place has interior corridors and a twenty-four hour front desk, I’m open. I reserve the right to complain later, though. Had you never been in a hotel before yesterday?” She killed the engine and wrapped her fingers around the door handle while waiting for his response.
    He shook his head. “A couple of motor lodges here and there when I had to leave the compound on long errands. They weren’t anything special. It was just like being at home, especially with there being four of us in the room at a time.”
    “Yeesh.”
    Hitch met her at the trunk and gripped the handle of her suitcase before she could reach for it herself. “Thanks.”
    “Least I can do. I’m not exactly pulling my weight, here.”
    “What do you mean? You don’t have to do anything.”
    They strolled into the lobby and joined the queue at the front desk. There must have been some sort of convention or conference in the hotel as there were dozens of people lingering around in fancy dress as country music blared from a nearby room.
    Ariel scanned the conversing guests, and she could feel that the smile spreading across her cheeks was a smug one. Not a single one of those men in their rented tuxedos could hold a torch to Hitch, who outshone them all in old jeans and a faded tee-shirt. He was tall and tan and blond and probably met the Roman ideal of what Apollo the sun god looked like. Golden and bursting to the gills with life or energy or … hell, she didn’t know what it was. All she knew was that when was standing near him, she wanted to burrow closer — be possessed, even.
    She startled as he wrapped his left arm around her neck from the back and set his chin on her right shoulder. It was as if he’d read her mind, but surely it hadn’t been that.
    “You gotta understand I’m used to constant motion — doing things. Working hard. You have to let me help or I won’t know what to do with myself.”
    As a unit, they took a couple of steps toward the counter as the line moved.
    “I can think of some things you could be doing,” she whispered against his cheek.
    “Like what?”
    “Find anything special at the bottom of that brown paper bag?”
    He stiffened behind her, then straightened up. “The one we left in the car? There was more in it? I thought after that bag of chips you pulled out, that had to be it.”
    She shook her head and held her key fob over her shoulder.
    He took them. “Be right back.” He nestled her suitcase next to her before he spun on the heel of his boot and eased his body through the dense crowd.
    She giggled to herself as she watched him go.
    While standing in front of the gas station’s rack of condoms and overpriced feminine care items, she’d felt a range of emotions she’d never before experienced in such close sequence. Bravery. Bewilderment. Brazenness. Embarrassment. Arousal. Last, following that wild-ass swing, had