We stopped in front of the suite, and I finally let go of her hand. I opened the door and stepped aside to let her go inside first. If she had second thoughts, she wouldn’t go in. She didn’t hesitate, though, and I arched an eyebrow at her back.
Damn, but this girl is innocent. Or very defenseless. She didn’t know me, besides my name and room number, but she’d willingly followed me out of the club and into my room. Did she not realize that I could do anything to her behind closed doors and be gone tomorrow morning, and she couldn’t do a thing about it later? I didn’t think she was doing it deliberately.
I followed her inside and closed the door. She was looking around the room with a dazed expression.
“Please, sit down,” I offered. “I’ll bring some more water for you.”
She nodded absently as she walked over to the couch. She sat down and kicked off her heels. As I walked into the bedroom, I saw out the corner of my eye as she leaned down to rub her feet.
I closed the bedroom door behind me and leaned against it with a sigh.
What am I doing?
I wasn’t a bad guy, but this wasn’t a lot like me, either. I wouldn’t usually go out of my way to help someone I didn’t know, and now I’d brought a woman to my hotel room, and not for anything fun, but so I could take care of her.
And Dad and Trent think I need to grow up. Somehow, I did end up a babysitter in this trip, huh?
Well, whatever. At least, I was no longer in a bad mood.
Pushing off the door, I shrugged off my coat and folded it, then set it down on a stool. Then I headed for the bathroom. I undid my cufflinks and put them in my pocket, then folded my sleeves back. Moving to the sink, I turned on the water to warm, and washed my face. The club had been packed, and hot, and it was our last stop after a long day of following my brother and his friends, so I was sweating.
Afterward, I patted my face dry and decided to change out of my shirt, at least. I tugged it off, along with the thin t-shirt I had on underneath, and after wiping myself down, I pulled on a thicker, long-sleeved t-shirt.
Finally, I went back to the front room with a glass of water poured from the bathroom, only to pause when I realized Klara had fallen asleep on the sofa.
“Great,” I muttered.
I set the glass on the small coffee table and looked at the girl. She was curled up on the tiny seat, and she looked uncomfortable. With a sigh, I leaned down to pick her up so I could take her to the bed.
“You better be grateful for this, Klara,” I murmured, looking at her face.
She mumbled a little and shifted, so her face was pressed against my chest. I stared at her for a few seconds longer, then headed for the bedroom. It was a bit of a struggle. She wasn’t so heavy that I couldn’t carry her, but she wasn’t that light, either. I breathed in relief as I set her down on the bed until I realized I’d have to move the covers out from under her. I grumbled to myself about it, but I still handled her carefully. Even after I managed to move the covers, though, there was one more problem.
Her clothes looked so tight; I wondered how she could breathe in them. I pondered for a moment, before deciding to strip her. It would be wrong to see her or touch her uninvited, but I wasn’t doing this for thrills, after all.
I tried to be as gentlemanly as possible as I stripped her down. I left her in her underwear, though. Then I covered her up. I left her purse on the nightstand, and turned off the light, then left the bedroom.
“Damn,” I cursed, shaking out my t-shirt because I’d just made myself sweat again.
I found the water and drank it down, then hunted for some alcohol I knew was in the room. After finding it in the fridge, I poured some for myself and went to sit on the couch.
“Welcome to fucking Vegas,” I said to no one, lifting the glass up.
Then, I tipped my head back and drank down the entire glass’s contents.
Chapter Three
Klara
When I woke up the next morning, I regretted everything.
Fuck!
My head hurt like hell before I was even fully awake. The pain was likely what woke me up, and it felt even worse when I moved to roll over.
“Ugh.”
It wasn’t just the headache, either. The inside of my mouth tasted like shit. I’d been waking up like this the past week, and every time I got over the hangover, I forgot just how bad it was. I had never been hung-over before in my life, at least before this trip. If I drank alcohol, it was single glass champagne that was never full, at family parties, and I didn’t get to have that until I was nineteen.