CHAPTER TWELVE
Yes, it’s the penthouse, Harper. Quickly look around, get excited, and then let's get your damn clothes off.
God, he needed to fuck her, and fast.
That kiss.
Fucking hell.
Feeling her body against his, he’d nearly lost his damn mind. His cock was taking the driver's seat, and he was struggling to maintain control.
“I upgraded you.” Outside, the hurricane winds slammed against the floor-to-ceiling glass, which ran the length of the suite, and lightning flashed in the sky.
Daniel quickly closed the curtains and turned on a few lights. They flickered but remained on. He hadn’t heard from Akino yet, but Daniel strongly suspected tonight they would, in fact, be sleeping in the hall. This was as bad a hurricane as he’d ever seen.
Harper spotted her suitcases in the bathroom entrance and walked over to them, running her fingers across the top of them.
“This is too much, Daniel,” Harper said, looking up at him.
“Enough,” he said, walking over to her and taking her chin in his hand. “I wanted you to have a nice room. I look after...”
He was going to say my own, but what the hell?
“I’m next door in the other penthouse suite.”
Her eyes flew open. “This is the penthouse floor?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Look, Harper, if we are sleeping in the hallways tonight, I’m not having you out there on your own unprotected.”
She swallowed and nodded.
“Sorry. No one has ever done something like this for me before,” she said, and looked around at the luxury that came with one of Waikiki’s most glamourous hotel rooms.
Daniel grit his teeth. Why hadn’t they? If she was his, he’d give her fucking everything.
His? What the hell?
Who was he to talk? He fucked women and left them. He was going to do the same to Harper, and they both knew it.
He spotted a package on the table and nodded to it. “Your meal package.”
Harper smiled and opened the box. He heard mumbling, then she lifted her head and frowned. In her hand was a sandwich, which she waved at him like an angry Italian grandmother. “This. No. This is just not acceptable.”
Daniel nearly laughed. “You don’t like sandwiches?”
“Gluten, Daniel. Damn gluten,” she growled.
Ah.
“You’re coeliac?” he asked, wondering why his team hadn’t accounted for food allergies.
“Intolerant. But that’s not the point.” She sighed, pulling out muesli bars, muffins, and a slice of cake – all of which contained flour. “Sorry, it's just a pet peeve.”
Finally, she pulled out an apple and shrugged.
Before she could bite into it, he stopped her. “You’re right. Put that down. An apple isn’t a meal—not after all that wine. Come with me.”
Daniel couldn’t believe he was doing this, especially when all he wanted to do was strip her naked and sink deep inside her, but here he was, dragging Harper through the hotel to the kitchen. Only a skeleton staff was left. A few of them looked at him curiously, not sure who he was.