Forbidden (Southern Comfort) by O'Neill Lisa Clark

Author:O'Neill, Lisa Clark [O'Neill, Lisa Clark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-02-03T04:00:00+00:00

“I thought you said the locals were friendly.” Kim’s blue eyes danced over him as she opened her hotel room door. “Was that before or after they busted your lip?”

“Ha, ha.” Touching his finger against the flesh in question, Clay moved past her into the room, noting that Kim had made the bed. And actually used the closet. A row of neatly pressed business attire hung obediently along the rod, several pairs of shoes standing at attention beneath.

If she wasn’t so much fun, he’d probably be obliged to hate her.

“What?” She turned from the mirror, tidying a deep auburn curl that had dared spring loose from her efficient twist.

“Nothing.”

Clay moved from inspecting the closet to looking over Kim’s shoulder into the mirror. He prodded his busted lip. Kim’s hand flew to her nose. “Good God, Copeland. Tell me that’s not you.”

Clay stopped messing with his lip and sent her mirror image a grimace. “You can still smell it? I was hoping the Febreze would work. Apparently, I was overly optimistic.”

He’d been seriously unhappy when he’d gotten back to Justin’s only to discover that he’d packed no extra dress pants. He hadn’t counted on needing even the one pair he’d brought. And he sure as hell hadn’t anticipated sadistic bartenders and their lethal drinks.

“You smell like the barroom floor,” she informed him, getting close enough to sniff his shirt. It was clean, nicely ironed, but his pants were another matter. Motioning for him to turn around, she gave his backside a considering glance. “You might want to consider emptying the whole bottle on your butt. What did you do, sit in a keg of beer?”

“These are the only pants I brought with me.” Kim shooed him from the room, and as he looked down at the black trousers, he couldn’t quite keep the defensiveness out of his voice. “It was either smelly pants or swim trunks, and I opted for malodorous as opposed to ridiculous. But after seeing your reaction, I’m questioning my decision.”

Her room was on the fourth floor of the hotel, and by unspoken agreement they headed toward the stairs. The smell was bad enough out in the open, let alone closed up in a moving box. On the landing of the second floor, she deployed the bottle of body spray she lifted from her purse.

He jumped back when she covered him in fine mist. “What the hell are you doing?”

Sniffing again, Kim nodded her approval before preceding him down the final flight and out the door. And spotting Clay’s SUV in the relative shade of a palmetto, headed in that direction. “Making it tolerable for me to ride with you,” she informed him over her shoulder. “Now stop acting like a baby and unlock the door.”

He stood, arms akimbo, and plotted vile things as he hit his keyless entry. “At least the beer smell was something the folks at the sheriff’s department could relate to. Now I smell like a freaking Gerbera daisy.”

“I like daisies.”

Clay grimaced as he took a tentative sniff, thinking of Josh Harding’s expertly groomed face.

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