Hotel O

“It’s okay. I get it.” I lean over the counter. “You’re overworked. Underpaid. Underappreciated.” I give him my flirty smile. “But I’m sure he’d give you a pay raise if you’d let me pass.”

The bellhop swallows, visibly constrained. “Um …”

“You don’t want to make him angry, do you?” I add.

“No, of course not,” he says. “Go right ahead, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” I say, winking as I walk up the stairs.

On my stilettos, I hurry down the hall to the office I’ve become accustomed to. My heart is already racing from the thoughts of how badly I want him, and how badly he’s probably going to behave—slapping my ass, pounding me against his desk, making me swallow.

Fuck, I’m already horny by the time I get to the door.

Too bad.

Because when I open it, all that energy comes to a screeching halt.

Inside the room is none other than my father.

Chapter 29

Kat

“Dad?” I mutter, my voice shaking as badly as my legs.

What the hell is he doing here at Hotel O? Is he a guest? What is this?

When he turns around, I’m positive it’s him. Shit.

“Kat?” His jaw slowly drops as does his eyebrows. “What in heaven’s name are you doing here?”

My eyes scatter back and forth between Declan and my dad, but the longer I look, the less I understand and the more it makes my head spin.

“Declan?” I mutter, feeling queasy.

He immediately gets up from his chair and walks toward me. He grabs my arms, and whispers, “What are you doing here? You should go.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” I say. “What’s going on? What is my dad doing here?”

“He’s your dad?” he asks, his eyes widening.

“Yes,” I reply, still in shock myself.

“What’s the meaning of this?” my dad says, clearing his throat.

“Let go of me,” I say, jerking myself free from Declan’s grip.

“How do you know my daughter?” Dad grumbles at Declan.

Declan glares at us both, his face turning red. “It’s hard to explain …”

“Dad, what are you doing at this hotel? Are you a guest here?” I mumble, flabbergasted. All sorts of thoughts are going through my head right now. None of them good.

“This is my hotel.”

I feel like the earth is ripped away from underneath my feet.

Declan covers his eyes with his hand, and I can’t stop shaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I mutter although I don’t even know who to ask.

It’s all too much to take right now.

“If I’d known he was your dad, I would have, trust me,” Declan says.

“What are you doing with my daughter?” my dad says, pinpointing his anger on Declan now. “Explain to me what this is. Now.”

“Dad!” I say, demanding his attention. “It’s none of your business what Declan and I are doing.”

“Yes, it is.” They’re in each other’s face now, and I’m having trouble breathing. “Are you telling me you’re dating my daughter?”

“Well …” Declan rubs his lips together and leans away from my dad who seems to get fired up just from the thought.

“How dare you.” My dad shoves his finger into Declan’s chest. “You submit her to your filthiness? She’s innocent!”

“Far from it,” Declan says, putting his hands against his side.

“What?!” my dad yells.

I step between them. “Dad. Stop.”

“Is this true?” he asks me. “Have you two—”

“Yes. And like I said, it’s none of your business.”

“You had no right,” Dad says, his mouth practically spitting fire. “Messing with my daughter …”

“Dad, it was my choice,” I say, my voice fluctuating in tone.

“That’s over now,” he says, directing his attention back to Declan as if I’m not even here. “I don’t want you involved with my daughter. End of discussion. She will not be coming here or anywhere near you ever again.”

And then he grabs my arm and drags me along.

“Wait,” I say, trying to free myself from his grip, but he’s too strong.

As he opens the door, he barks at Declan. “You’re fired!”

“I’m sorry,” I say to Declan, but he’s already turned his head toward the window in defeat.

“Dad!” I yell, but he doesn’t stop pulling me along until we’re in an elevator, and he’s already pressed the button to the garage underneath.

“Let go of me,” I growl, jerking free.

“I expected better of you, Kat,” he says. “How long has this been going on? Weeks? Months?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” I say, averting my eyes. “I’m a grown woman.”

When the elevator comes to a halt, he immediately grabs me again and pulls me outside. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” I mutter as he drags me along.

“You’re coming home with me.”

“Dad. Stop! Why are you doing this?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer.

Instead, he throws open his passenger door. “Sit. Down.”

“Fine!” I do what he asks. Not because I’m afraid, but because we need to have a discussion. Badly.

He gets behind the wheel and drives us to his house. Not mine. His.