Just for Fun by Erin Nicholas

travelers.
    Dooley sighed as he watched and listened to her talking with the couple and translating for the Britton Hotel employees.
    She spoke a second language. Fluently. Dammit.
    He loved bilingual women.
    He shifted the flowers she’d handed to him to his other arm and leaned back against the nearest forty-foot high colonnade.
    Within minutes Morgan had ascertained that the couple had been dropped off at the wrong hotel by their cab driver.
    “Greg, will you please get a guest services manager from the Fairmont on the phone? I’ll arrange for one of the Britton’s cars to take Mr. and Mrs. Benoit to their hotel but I want to be sure someone is waiting to greet them.”
    Greg moved off to make the call while Morgan excused herself to the Benoits for a moment.
    “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to ignore you.”
    “I’m good,” he said, with a shrug and a smile. “I can speak English so I’m fine on my own.”
    “The Fairmont is only a few minutes away. This shouldn’t take long.”
    “That’s nice of you. Especially considering they aren’t your guests. Why not just talk them into staying here?”
    She grinned. “I thought about it,” she admitted. “But no, they just need a translator. If we’d known they were coming here we would have had someone ready to greet them in French. I’m sure the Fairmont will do the same.”
    “I’m impressed.” He was. She was gracious and kind and spoke two languages. As if her breasts weren’t enough to keep him at her heels.
    “I traveled around Europe in college,” she said. “I remember the feeling of helplessness that comes when you can’t communicate and how grateful you are when someone takes pity on you and helps out.”
    She’d traveled. Great. He loved to travel. He loved women who loved to travel.
    Dammit.
    “I’m heading to the North Suite? No room number?” he asked.
    “Only four suites take up the entire twenty-seventh floor.”
    Ah. “Okay, then I’ll take the elevator up and turn north.”
    She smiled and rose on tiptoe, planting a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be up as soon as I can.”
    “You want me to wait?”
    “No. Go on up. I can send a masseuse up.”
    He grinned and leaned in close. “The only person I want touching me is you.”
    Her cheeks got a little pink at that.
    “Hurry,” he said. He started to lean back, then thought better of it. He put a hand on her low back and nudged her forward at the same time he met her lips with his.
    He was tempted to back her up against the colonnade and make her forget the French couple, but he didn’t even open his mouth. He pulled back after only a few seconds.
    But he memorized the dazed look on her face. He’d never done that so easily to a woman before.
    This had the makings of the best weekend. Ever.
    “Ms. James?”
    She turned slowly to face Greg and the Benoits. “Yes?” She cleared her throat. “Yes?”
    Dooley was feeling darned good about himself at this point.
    “The car’s ready.”
    “Okay.” She spun back to face Dooley. “I’ll just…”
    “Hurry,” he inserted with a grin.
    “Right.”
    He watched her escort the Benoits out the front door to the car.
    Then he headed upstairs.
    In the elevator he dug into the gift bag, expecting lotion or coupons. Instead he pulled out a package of beef jerky, a can of Pringles and a bottle of blue Gatorade.
    Amazing. He was still shaking his head when he stepped off the elevator. Morgan had something with these little special touches after all. Beth, who had escorted him up, opened the door and crossed to the fridge where she withdrew a bottle of water and filled a glass with ice from the ice bucket.
    “Thanks, Beth.”
    “My pleasure.” She laid a business card next to his ice water. “Call me if you need anything during your stay. My hours are eight to eight. Nathan will be your evening attendant. You can reach him at the same number from eight p.m. to eight in the morning.”
    “Great. Will do.