War of Hearts by S. Young

Author:S. Young
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Samantha Young

The hotel at Neumünster had taken inspiration from its Scandinavian neighbors. The reception was a huge, open-plan space with a quirky mix of industrial and natural materials. There were exposed pipes along the ceiling, but a beautiful fire on a partition wall. The fire was low to the ground, built between two pieces of marble, the top part of which had holes cut into it where the firewood was stored.

A massive corner sofa sat opposite the fire, with bean cushions and a large wooden coffee table. There was a reception desk near the fire, a bar, and a shop selling everything from wine to clothing.

Beyond the reception was another bar and restaurant and all the rooms were on the two floors above.

Conall watched Thea take in the surroundings with a quiet look of pleasure. Her expression made him book a suite. “With twin beds instead of a king,” he requested.

“I’m sorry, sir.” The blond receptionist was almost as well built as Conall. “Our suites only come with a king.” He’d flicked an inquisitive look at Thea, obviously wondering why Conall wouldn’t want to share a bed with her.

He buried an agitated snarl. “But the room has a pull-out sofa?”

“Yes, sir.”

There was nothing technically to stop him booking two rooms. He trusted Thea not to run. But for her safety, she should stay with him.

“That’s fine.” He’d take the sofa.

Once they had their room sorted, Conall booked them a table at the restaurant and went one step further by insisting on buying Thea a pair of pajamas in the hotel gift shop.

“You don’t have to do that.” She waved away his offer.

“Do you want to sleep in your jeans?”

She wrinkled her adorable nose. “Well … okay, then.” Thea grinned up at him, her eyes dancing. “Thanks.”

Conall quickly looked away. His heart was beating too fast.

It was that fucking conversation in the car.

“Pick something.” He was gruff.

Things only worsened when they strode into the room. The bed was luxurious and inviting and the sofa was absolutely not. His legs would dangle over the bloody thing.

“I’ll take the sofa,” Thea said, dropping her rucksack on it.

“Like hell.” He grabbed the backpack and dumped it on the bed. “You’ll take the bloody bed.”

“I’m shorter. I’ll take the sofa.”

“You’ll take the bed and be grateful for it,” he snapped.

She scowled at him. “What crawled up your ass in the last twenty minutes, huh?”

“I’m sorry, I didnae realize offering you the bed was a bad thing.” He was being deliberately obtuse, and they both knew it.

“It’s not the bed, it’s your tone.”

“I dinnae have a tone.”

“There.” She gestured to him. “That is a tone.”

Fuck, they sounded like his mum and dad when they argued. Like an old married couple.

Conall rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the thick bristle of a beard forming. He needed to shave, and eat, and he needed to sleep.

And he needed to not be a bastard to Thea just because he was totally and utterly fucked in the head. The big one and the little one.

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