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He grins at me, tilting his head to the side. I watch as he bites his bottom lip, holding it between white teeth for a moment before letting it go.
“Only to pay your bar bill, Miss Marino.”
Ooof.
I know he’s a hotel employee and I’m a paying guest—I’m positive there are rules forbidding hook-ups between the two parties, but I can’t help the smack of rejection I feel. It stings. And it’s humiliating as hell.
I mean, we’re pretty much the only two people on the roof now. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. It’s not like anyone would see if something happened between us, and I couldn’t have imagined the flirtation we’ve both been enjoying for the past half hour...could I?
Maybe I’m already in an emotional state because of the reason I’m here in Brazil, or maybe I’m tipsy from my two previous Caipirinhas. But his gentle brush-off makes my cheeks flush with intense embarrassment. It makes me want to say unkind things to him that he doesn’t deserve.
“Whatever,” I say, sliding off the bar stool. “Room five-sixteen.”
He writes down the digits on a chit, then looks up at me, offering a polite smile.
The last thing a horny woman who’s just been rejected wants to see is a polite smile, take my word for it.
“Oh!” I say. “And give yourself a good tip. Twenty bucks for the drinks, and another twenty for the charm. Forty American dollars. You certainly earned it.”
His smile fades, his expression cooling down for the first time since I arrived at the bar, and it makes me feel a little better. I’ve embarrassed him back. Good.
“Forty bucks,” he says, his lips tight, his eyes flat. “That’s a lot.”
“Not for me,” I tell him, sliding my drink from the bar and chugging it. I plunk the empty glass in front of him. “Thanks for the drinks...and the misogynistic fairytale.”
“Have a good night, Miss Marino,” he tells me, his voice deep and level.
“Have a nice life, Mr. Gabriel,” I snipe, heading for the exit.
Thank God I’m checking out in the morning.
I hope I never, ever see him again.
CHAPTER 3
My head aches.
