Get Lucky by Lorie O'Clare Page A

or cleaning his back. Not that he cared. Knowing he’d see London soon put him in a better mood than it should have. Marc grabbed clean clothes and headed for the shower fantasizing about having her in there with him before he even turned on the water.
    *   *   *
     
    London held the small box that was from some media company in her hand as she knocked on Marc’s door. She had no idea what was in it and hadn’t heard of the company that had sent it. Maybe it was time to ask Marc again what he did for a living. It seemed he dodged that question whenever she asked. He worked for a family business in L.A. That was all she knew. She’d been tempted to do some snooping, learn more about him. But doing so would suggest she wanted more from Marc than a casual relationship.
    Marc smelled like shampoo and soap and a musky aftershave. She itched to feel how smooth his jaw probably was as she smiled at his freshly shaved face. But even more so, thoughts of running her fingers over the tight, still slightly damp curls spread across his muscular chest made her forget what she was going to say.
    “Come on in.” Marc held the door for her, stepping to the side so she could enter.
    “You know I can’t come in,” she whispered, her heart pattering a mile a minute as a small voice in her head assured her it would be okay to be in his room for just a little bit.
    “You’re kidding.” He really looked disappointed. “Would you really stand in the hallway and wait for your tip from another guest?”
    Of course she wouldn’t. London walked into his room, taking in his king-sized bed with one side completely crumpled and blankets twisted. There was an indentation in the pillows where his head had been. She bet he’d been all relaxed and warm when she called and woke him up. His rough baritone had sounded so damn good when he’d answered the phone.
    “Here is your package,” she offered, holding the box out to him. “And you don’t have to tip me.”
    Marc closed the door behind her. He moved faster than she anticipated, wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his head so his freshly shaved cheek was pressed against hers.
    “What do you have for me?” he asked, turning to nibble on her ear before moving one hand in front of her to adjust the box in her hand. “‘Media Corp,’” he said, reading the return address label. “I’ve never heard of them.”
    “You didn’t order something?” She stiffened and almost dropped the box.
    Marc took it from her, letting her go but then pressing his hand against her back and guiding her past his bed. She took a calming breath when he sat down by his laptop and picked up his keys, which were on the desk. Using one of them as a knife, he slit the tape down the middle and along the sides.
    He looked up at her several times while opening the box. “I guess it is weird to get something in the mail while you’re on vacation when you’re not expecting it. Don’t let it startle you, though. Are you okay? I swear you’re suddenly white as a ghost.”
    She touched her cheeks and grinned at him, feeling stupid and chastising herself. Marc was perceptive. It should flatter her that he was so in tune to her reactions. She hadn’t missed his stressing that he went out alone the other night, as if he wanted to make sure she knew he wasn’t spending time with another lady after having fucked her. Some men would, considering it their vacation so no rules applied. Which was why she steered clear of all guests when it came to accepting dates. Marc had made a point of letting her know he was thinking about her, couldn’t wait to be with her again, and was alone when they weren’t together.
    “I guess I just assumed you’d ordered something. You didn’t seem surprised when I told you I had a delivery for you.”
    “You had me at a disadvantage. I’d just woken up,” he admitted. “I worried I was too honest and up-front with you on the phone.”
    “You did? How so?” Her