Holiday Ties by Elizabeth Safleur

Author:Elizabeth Safleur
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Romance, Erotica, Adult, BDSM, Fiction
ISBN: 9781939564610
Publisher: Elizabeth SaFleur LLC
Published: 2015-07-24T23:00:00+00:00

*****

A long shaft of sunshine broke into the room and sliced across the bed where Ryan held a slumbering Yvette. A knock at the door jolted his tired lover awake.

“No, don’t answer it,” she whispered. “They’ll go away.”

“They’ll just come in.” He eased himself away from Yvette, fully intending to get rid of whoever dared to break the spell of watching his sleeping lover.

Her thin arms reached out for him. “No, they’ll talk,” she whispered hoarsely.

“You are a single woman.” He pulled on his trousers. “They’ll probably say it’s about time.”

He jogged out to the main room and down the cold marble floor just as he heard the click of a key card. He swung the door open wide before the intruder had a chance. “Yes?” he said to the startled maid. “Did we call for you?”

“Oh, sir, I’m sorry, it’s just . . . .”

He glanced at her name tag. “Katie, please let hotel management know that Miss Sava isn’t to be disturbed, for any reason, until Monday.”

The young maid dropped her head. “Um, okay.”

“What did I ask?”

“Uh, not to disturb Miss Sava.”

“Until?”

“Monday. Yes, sir.” She backed away.

He let the door click behind him and faced an angry Yvette who fisted the sheet draped around her. “For God’s sake, Ryan! Are you trying to make me more of laughingstock than I already am?” She spun on her heel and marched back into the bedroom.

He followed her. When he stepped through the doorway, he came face-to-face with a flying sheet. She grabbed her clothes from the floor and stomped into the bathroom.

“No one cares, Yvette.”

“Jesus, how old are you?” she called from the bathroom.

“Twenty-five—not that it has anything to do with this.” He leaned against the doorframe.

She grabbed her toothbrush and waved it at him. “Only someone so young would say such a thing. Everyone cares.”

He ran his hands through his hair and then over his beard stubble. “Let me make it up to you, take you out to breakfast.”

“Oh, great, go out in public and make it worse.”

“Love, where I’m taking you, I doubt we’ll see anyone from your social circuit.”

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