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“That shadow guy, right? Roman. You work for the House of Black.”
“I run the House of Black.”
Omar returned to his screen. “I don’t have two rooms, I have one. It’s being cleaned.”
Roman said, “Great, we’ll take it.”
Omar clicked the mouse. “You want it under her name?”
“Shay Cousens,” Shay replied before Roman could open his stupid mouth. She stepped up to the desk. “There are two beds, right?” Her scalp prickled at the thought of being in the same room as Roman, let alone having to share a bed with him.
She wouldn’t do it. She would sooner sleep on the floor than put herself that close to him. The car, even—anything was better than getting under the covers with that man.
Nope, not doing it. Roman was one hundred percent off-limits.
The shadow-asshole smirked. Shay shot him a glare—
Omar was smirking too. What was this, some kind of joke?
She narrowed her eyes on Roman. “If there’s only one bed, you’re sleeping on the floor.”
The owner was still smiling as he handed Roman a key with the number nine on it. “Two beds.”
The door to room number nine creaked as Roman pushed it open, the knob hitting the wall. He felt for a light switch and flipped it on.
Dim. No surprise for a cheap motel.
Cousens pushed her way into the room, bumping Roman’s shoulder with hers. “I’m taking the bed closest to the door,” she declared.
Roman scowled at the back of her head as he followed her inside, slamming the door shut behind him. “Why?”
She dumped her bag on the bed. “In case you try to sneak past me in the night.” She gave him a fake smile.
“You have major trust issues.”
She made for the door again—the one Roman was blocking. “Come on, move.” She waved her hands in a ‘shoo’ motion. “Out of the way—let’s go.” She poked him in the chest.
He recoiled—and so did she. “Where? We just got here.”
“Back to the store so we can buy some things.” Roman didn’t miss that she held her hands behind her back now, as if afraid to touch him again.
“Like what?” he demanded.
“Toothpaste, deodorant, water. Maybe you’re okay with wearing the same pair of underwear for five days in a row, but I’m not.”
He lifted the duffel in his hand. “I came prepared.”
She regarded him with suspicion, the eye that had a portion of darker green in the iris tightening. Roman hated how those eyes compelled him to look at them more than he needed to. “Do you always drive around with a suitcase in your car?” she asked him.
“Yes.” He wouldn’t expect her to understand. Her mom was a bitch, but rumor said the Cousens girls were spoiled. Shay was sheltered, and likely would be her whole life.
“Well, I need some things, and you’re going to come with me.”
“Why?”
She batted those ginger eyelashes at him. “Because you’re scary and tough, and that’s why you’re here.”
“I thought I was here to chauffeur your thieving ass around and help you find your sister.”
