Don't Trust Me (Hamlet 1) - Page 7

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“I’d like to get a room for the evening.”

She turned toward her computer, fingers poised over the keys. “One room? For the both of you?”

“That’s right. This is my wife. Tessa.”

The clerk glanced at Tess, a quick flicker as she swept her from head to toe.

Tess was used to other women looking at her the same exact way: simultaneously dismissing her while wondering what it was that Tess had done to land such a strapping specimen as her husband. More than a head taller than her, broad in the shoulders and lean in the hips, Jack had a body most men would kill for. His shaggy, sandy hair was carelessly tousled just so when it wasn’t rained on; even soaked, he exuded a safe masculinity that women always seemed drawn to.

She used to call him her teddy bear. But that was before. Lately, he was just Jack.

Tess couldn’t mask her frown. The clerk cleared her throat, moved her glance to the computer in front of her, tapped a few keys before returning her adoring gaze back over to Jack. Honest to God, Tess swore she saw stars in the woman’s eyes. And, after a second look, a big, honking ring on her finger.

“It looks like we have an empty house tonight so you have the pick of the rooms. Any requests, Mr. Sullivan?”

“Any requests, babe?”

“Something cozy,” she murmured up at him. After all, this was supposed to be their second honeymoon. So they weren’t staying at the resort for their first night. This place looked nice enough. “Something private.”

Tugging on Tess’s hand, he pulled her into the crook of his arm. His skin was slick from the rain and he carried a chill. She wrapped her arms around him, sharing her warmth.

He nodded at the receptionist. “You heard my wife. Cozy. Private.” He still had his wallet open. Reaching around Tess, he rifled through it, yanked out a credit card. “I’ll take the best one you’ve got.”

3

Their unspoken truce lasted until Jack had let them into the room with one of the keys the clerk had given him. Tessa innocently asked to hold onto the other one. She didn’t think it was an irrational request.

He flat out denied her.

“Why not?” she demanded.

She stopped right inside the doorway. With both of their duffels thrown over his shoulder, Jack maneuvered past her. He tossed the luggage on the empty seat of the nearest chair.

That done, he whirled on his wife. “Why do you need one?”

“There’s two. Why do you need both?”

“If you think about it, we really don’t need any now that we're inside,” Jack pointed out. “We’re only staying the night. Once we leave in the morning, we’re not coming back.”

Tess wouldn’t mind coming back to this room. As frustrated and annoyed as she was, she had to admit that the room was beautiful. Everything was done in soft, pastel colors: from the pale peach walls to the lemon-colored lampshades, and the pleasant floral quilted bedspread on the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. An oak nightstand stood off to one side of the bed. A matching set of dressers framed with a wide, gilded mirror sat along the far wall. Two overstuffed armchairs—similar to the ones in the front lobby—perched in separate corners. Jack had already claimed one with their luggage.

Across from the entryway, Tess saw a gorgeous bay window that stretched the length of the opposite wall. It was night, the curtains drawn and the blinds closed, but she thought the room would be even lovelier with sunshine streaming in through the window.

“Come on, Jack.” Even Tess heard the whine in her voice. She couldn’t help it. “I’m wide awake now. We’ve checked in two hours earlier than we thought by stopping over here. Why don’t we go out, do some exploring?”

“Because the tire’s shot. That’s why we stopped. Remember?”

“We don’t have to go far.” She marched across the room to the window and pulled back the curtain with an impatient tug. “Look. The rain’s slowed down some. If we baby the tire, we could probably find someplace local to eat. Let’s do something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You can at least go and have a drink with me.”

“Tess, I'd love to, but I’m tired.” He kicked off his shoes, as if he thought he’d already won the argument. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he patted the spot next to him. “Let’s just go to bed, get some rest. It’s been a long day for both of us. You must be beat.”

That wasn’t exactly true. When she’d been trapped in the car, with the rain pounding the roof and Jack’s imposed silence suffocating her, Tess had felt drained. Now, though, she was anxious. Jittery. She had no desire to climb into that bed and go to sleep.

Tags: Jessica Lynch Hamlet Mystery
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