From Dare To Due Date. Christy Jeffries

much more than a good time. Or a notch in her D-list celebrity belt.

      How could he have been so stupid?

      Had his father set this up? Had she been sent by the show’s assistants? Was the caller standing outside right now with a camera, hoping to catch them in the act? He hadn’t watched any of his dad’s shows in several years, but at dinner last night, his old man had confided that ratings were down and if they couldn’t breathe some new life into the series, he could be facing cancellation.

      God, he hoped this wasn’t some sort of last-ditch publicity stunt.

      No. He was pretty sure his gut reaction last night had been on target. The caller sounded surprised that the woman would take a man up to her room. So hopefully she had simply been a lonely traveler looking for a little excitement and companionship.

      His official discharge from the military was right around the corner and he didn’t want to worry about any risqué photos or incriminating evidence ruining his career.

      Still. He’d hate for any news about him to leak to the press. He’d spent his whole adult life avoiding the cameras, and the only place he’d been able to feel comfortable in his own skin was in the navy. Garrett had purposely volunteered for the most remote assignments whenever possible just to escape the constant media attention that came from being Dr. Gerald McCormick’s son.

      He damn well wasn’t going to blow his cover now, which was exactly what he’d told his father at dinner yesterday evening when they’d gotten into their heated argument about the career path he’d just taken.

      Garrett sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the abandoned luggage stand in the open closet. He remembered the woman had an open suitcase there last night. And she’d already had a key to this room when they’d come upstairs. He let out a breath and eased back onto the bed. So she had obviously been a registered hotel guest, and since even he had no idea that he’d end up at some hotel bar when he’d stormed out of the restaurant a few blocks away, then nobody would’ve had the foresight to set him up.

      That was one crisis averted. There was also the fact that he’d been the one who’d approached her. Fragments of conversation were slowly coming back to him. She’d said she was a dancer—well, she’d definitely had the lithe and graceful body to prove it. She’d also mentioned not being from Boise. Maybe she was just some bored housewife who had to fly home before her husband and kids woke up.

      Wait, she’d said she didn’t have kids. He couldn’t remember anything about a husband, but would she have been honest if she’d had one?

      He pulled a pillow over his head, wishing he could bury his shame along with his guilt. He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t the cause of some poor cuckold’s broken heart. But inhaling was a big mistake because when he did, the lingering aroma of jasmine tickled his nose, reminding him of her intoxicating fragrance and of how he hadn’t been able to get enough of her heady scent. Of how he’d smelled, kissed and tasted every square inch of the woman’s perfect, flexible body last night.

      Crap. The woman? He still didn’t even know her name.

      This wasn’t like him. Lieutenant Commander Garrett McCormick was a trained battlefield surgeon and an orthopedic specialist. He was cool under pressure and never got rattled. He for sure never let his guard down and didn’t do anything unbecoming an officer. So then why had he allowed some sad-eyed, incredibly stunning woman get to him? What had come over him?

      He took one last sniff and then threw the pillow to the floor. Lust, he thought before standing up and striding toward the bathroom. That’s what had gotten into him. Pure, old-fashioned lust combined with frustration at his old man and a need to establish his autonomy with a woman who’d actually taken the time to listen to him and could relate to having an overbearing and egotistical parent.

      He wasn’t his dad. He didn’t sleep with every beautiful woman who fluttered her eyelashes at him. But Garrett deserved to have a little companionship in his life, didn’t he?

      He stepped into the shower and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it before trying to unscrew the cap off the miniscule shampoo bottle. He’d wash all trace of the woman from his body and then try to banish all indications of last night’s events from his mind.

      The problem was, he didn’t think he could forget how perfect she’d felt in his arms. How warm and willing she’d been when he’d eased himself inside her. Or how her breath came in short gasps when she’d reached her peak and begged him not to stop.

      Man. He needed to get over it. To get over her.

      He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist before going out into the room to look for his clothes. He spotted his smartphone on the bedside table, and his heart flipped over when he recalled her slim fingers running along his screen in the bar, showing him how to block his incoming calls.

      Maybe she had programmed her telephone number in his list of contacts.

      His pulse picked up speed as he scrolled through his phone, only to slow down until it was a disappointing lump in his throat. Nope, there was nothing but four missed calls from his father and one from his dad’s assistant, Marty. Well, Dad and Marty would have to wait until hell froze over.

      Control yourself, McCormick. He hated getting worked up like this. But he was angry with himself for falling for the beautiful woman in the first place and coming upstairs with her. And he was angry with her for disappearing into thin air.

      He got dressed and took one last look around the room, maybe so that he could memorize this moment or maybe because he was searching for one last clue about the woman’s identity. A knock sounded and his stomach flipped over.

      Was that her? Had she come back after all? Or was it security?

      He opened the heavy door and frowned when he saw a tall, older lady in a maid’s uniform. “Sorry.” She spoke in halting English. “I thought you checked out already.”

      She picked up the clipboard hanging off her service cart, as though to make sure she hadn’t made a mistake. Likely, she hadn’t, and the woman who’d spent the evening with him had in fact checked out of the hotel. Garrett took a step closer, thinking he might be able to find out the woman’s name by looking at the guest info sheet.

      But the motion forced him to accidentally release the room door, and it whooshed closed with a heavy thunk. The sound caused the maid to look up at him sharply, and she pulled the clipboard to her gray uniform. She stared at him and he glanced at the locked knob and realized he couldn’t get back in.

      If he stood here much longer, this employee would also realize that he didn’t have a key and he had no way to prove that he was a guest of the hotel. The walkie-talkie on her cart crackled to life and Garrett decided the last thing he needed was to have security made aware of his presence.

      “Yes, my wife already checked us out,” Garrett finally said, thankful he’d at least gotten dressed and that his wallet and keys were still in his pants pocket. “I’m supposed to meet her at the bar.”

      What in the world had made a confirmed bachelor like him refer to the woman from last night as his wife? Or mention that they were meeting at a bar. Who met at a bar at oh eight hundred?

      The maid lifted an eyebrow at him and he couldn’t blame her for being suspicious. Then again, this was a hotel and he was sure the employees had seen more scandalous behavior than his. But just to be on the safe side, he pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her. “Here. We forgot to leave a tip for the turndown service last night,” he mumbled before making his way to the elevator and down to the lobby.

      The bar was deserted except for the lone bartender reading a newspaper and a busboy wiping down the tables from the night before. He flashed back to a memory of entering the lounge last night, hell-bent on drinking his anger away. The nerve of his dad trying to talk him into moving back to California to film a new show. Those cuff links had been the icing on the smug cake his father had served after dinner over a nice cold glass of familial guilt.

      Garrett