After the Rain (The Twisted Fate Series Book 1) (28 page)

“I had to give that guy all my money to avoid the…um, intimate search he was about to perform.”

“You could probably get some more at your hotel.”

“I don’t have a hotel.”

“So where are you sleeping?”

Damian shrugged again. “Not sure, I was going to go to a backpackers hostel but now I guess I’m sleeping on the beach until I can get more cash.”

He was making absolutely no sense.

“Why don’t you just go to an ATM?” It seemed so obvious to me.

“I don’t have a card.”

“What?” I looked at this guy with the clothes and the backpack and I wondered what on Earth his story was. Who the hell didn’t have a bank card? That was like not having a Facebook profile or Twitter account. It was madness.

“I’m backpacking. I just did Europe and moved around from place to place earning money from odd jobs, and now I’m going to explore the east.”

This guy was completely nuts.

“Anyway,” he spoke again. “I hope you don’t have to wait too long for your shuttle, Lilly.” He gave me one last smile, turned and started walking away from me.

I watched him walk away and a thought started bashing about in my brain. I didn’t like the thought. I didn’t like it one little bit.

No! Don’t say it, Lilly! Don’t you dare
bloody say it!

“You can stay with me.” The words came tumbling out of my mouth, and I regretted them immediately.

Damian turned around with a shocked look on his face.

“I mean, just for one night, while you figure out what you’re going to do for money. I have this big suite,” I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “Deluxe honeymoon suite. And it’s got a separate lounge area, so…”

Damian stepped forward and his eyes met mine with such intensity that I felt unnerved.

“You sure?”

“No, I’m not sure, but…what the hell, I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders, and looked around. “Besides, you’d be doing me a bit of a favor. I really want to get to the hotel, and I don’t want to take a taxi alone, so…”

He smiled that crooked smile at me again. He smiled a lot for someone who listened to Depeche Mode.

“Well, if I’d be helping you…” He strode out into the street and called a taxi with brazen confidence.

God, this was a bad idea. The worst idea. Ever. But it was too late!

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Copyright

Copyright © 2014 Jo Watson. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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