Page 36 of Have To Be Mine

She exhaled and shook her head. “Good job, Blackwell. Guess your name doesn’t hold the power you thought it did.”

12

KRISTA

Icould have been gracious. I could have let it go. But after everything the man had put me through in the last forty-eight hours, I wasn’t feeling particularly generous.

“So,” I said, dropping my bag on one of the pristine white couches.

He shot me a look. “So what?”

“I mean, you made such a big deal about it. Called in favors, name-dropped, probably flashed your credit card limit. And you got us…” I gestured around the room. “One bedroom.”

“Krista, first of all, I don’t have a credit card limit. Second of all, the one-bedroom you booked had like eighteen beds in it. So maybe ease up.”

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the window, taking in the stunning view of the water. “You were so confident. So sure that your name would solve everything. How does it feel to know you can’t just throw money at the problem and make it disappear?”

“My problems did disappear,” he pointed out. “You’re the one pouting again.”

My head snapped around and I pinned him with my gaze. “I am not pouting. But I’m not thrilled we’re sharing a room with only one bed.” I gestured toward the bedroom. “So really, what did we gain here besides an ocean view and some expensive toiletries?”

He threw his hands up in frustration. “You know, you’re talking a lot, but I can’t help but notice the one phrase you’re not saying, which is thank you.”

“You didn’t think things through again, and you want me to thank you?” I scoffed.

Dash chuckled without humor. “It’s funny. You accuse me of being spoiled, but you’re the one acting like a brat.”

Ice froze my veins and my body went stock still.

He continued without waiting for a response. “So, fine, I didn’t find us the perfect room, but it’s a million times better than that hostel. I need to shower after being in there. Just seeing that toilet has probably given me fucking hantavirus.”

I briefly considered exploding on him, but a quiet voice in my head told me to take a deep breath. I was exhausted and irritable and way too aware of how close we’d be sleeping tonight. That was why I was giving him a hard time about the room. Being hidden away with him like this was dangerous.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Dash said, filling my silence.

I blinked. “What?”

“The floor. I’m not sleeping on that sofa bed. I’ll take some blankets, make a little nest. You can have the bed. Consider it an apology for messing up again.”

Guilt prickled at my insides. “Dash, that’s ridiculous. Look at this place.” I walked into the bedroom and gestured at the massive king-sized bed. “This thing is big enough for six people.” His lips quirked up and I quickly held up a finger to stop him from talking. “It might fit six people, but we will be the only two people in the bed. I am not getting in the middle of your model sandwich. You can take that nonsense back to the hantavirus hostel.”

“You want to share the bed?” His fucking smile was a lethal weapon.

“Relax. We’ll put pillows between us. A wall of pillows. You stay on your side, I stay on mine. It’s fine.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Besides, if you sleep on the floor, you’ll complain about it tomorrow and make my life miserable.”

“True.” He grabbed his bag and started unpacking. “I’ll take the bathroom first if you want to get settled.”

“Go ahead. I need to check in with the Corfu team.”

He disappeared into the bathroom and I heard the shower start. I tried not to think about him naked on the other side of that door. Tried not to imagine water running down that ridiculous chest and those abs that looked like they’d been carved by a very talented sculptor. He could have been the model for all of the ancient statues I’d seen in Greece.

I unpacked my suitcase, hanging up the designer stuff the Blackwells insisted I needed. My mind kept drifting back to the shower. To Dash. To the fact that we were sharing a room tonight. I’d shared quarters with men before. In the military, you learned to compartmentalize. You learned to see your fellow soldiers as colleagues, not potential romantic interests. It was survival. It was necessary. Although there were plenty of romances and hookups.

But Dash wasn’t my fellow soldier. He was my assignment. And he was getting under my skin in a way that was deeply unprofessional. I was not going to picture running my hands over his chest.