Free Weekend Lover by Melissa Blue

Chapter One
     
    Nicole Harrison ignored the sudden warmth
along her right arm. If she ignored the person in the barstool next
to her, he'd go away. Her day had started at too-goddamn-early in
the morning, and she had every intention of ending it with the shot
of tequila in her hand. The liquor would dull the ache in her
arches enough to give off a low hum of pain, instead of screaming
at her. The last thing she wanted was flirtation or an indecent
offer from some horny man.
    Out the corner of her eye Nicole could see
one long, muscled leg stretched out in navy blue slacks. That long
leg was connected to a large, expensive shoe planted on the floor.
The other foot rested on the barstool's rung. From the neck down
the man faced her. His posture had all the earmarks of waiting her
out. An irritated sigh forced its way out of her lips.
    Ignoring him wasn't going to work. Nicole
knocked back the shot. She had to use more drastic measures. “Give
me your best line. I can shoot you down and we can end this pick up
a woman at the bar bit.”
    Most men, when faced with one of her blunt
propositions, would have apologized and backed away. Or call her a
shitty name. This man let out a deep, rich laugh that dragged her
gaze to his. Her skin prickled with sexual awareness.
    No wonder her peripheral view of him only
went up to his neck. The careless way he leaned one elbow on the
wooden bartop couldn't diminish his height. He had enough bulk to
his tall frame to escape the kiss of death of being all limbs and
elbows.
    And . . . she really, really should adhere to
her personal rule of behavior while in a hotel on business: always
be polite. As a publicity manager for Limelight, a PR boutique,
someone could recognize her. One day she could mouth off to a
potential client and wouldn't that be awkward?
    Shit. She tipped her shot glass in hopes of a corner of liquid.
Nope. She met the man's blue eyes. Amusement darkened the
steel-blue shade and she couldn't look away. Could he guess she
regretted the words? More than likely. With a face like his, women
didn't send him packing. Chiseled jaw line, sharp angles, and
purely masculine from hairline to chin. Her pulse skittered under
the open appraisal of his gaze, and then he smiled. The action
should have been outlawed in every known universe.
    “ Have we met
before?”
    The heat of his frank assessment hadn't
lessened, but Nicole laughed at the horrible pick up. His smile
widened to a grin. No doubt he knew the line for the cliché it
was.
    “ You're a handsome looking
bastard, so I'll bet that line works for you anyway.”
    He rolled his shoulders in a shameless shrug.
“I assumed you've heard it all. Might as well spin a classic.”
    Nicole sighed. Just her luck. A handsome and
charming bastard. If she sent him packing, another man would come
along. Her uncharacteristic need for solitude with a stiff drink
would be interrupted again and again until she left. She was a
woman, alone, at a bar in an upscale hotel. Nicole had to face the
fact she was the equivalent of the last fun-sized candy bar in a
dieter's cabinet.
    Press junkets had filled her day, and with
more to come in the next two, she'd wanted one flipping moment of
quiet. Normally, she'd be riding from the high and getting revved
up for tomorrow. Except her boss, Anna, had been breathing down her
neck, pointing out any missteps. Nicole was so close to getting the
brass ring of directing manager, but this weekend she'd started to
feel the wear of the constant pressure. She needed to stay focused
and rough it through this momentary falter.
    Warily, Nicole glanced down at her silent
phone. It was a Friday night, and by now a client or two should
have called, needing some wheels greased to get into a hot and
exclusive club. She checked the bars on the phone and, yes, she had
service.
    She cast a fleeting look in the man's
direction. He seemed affable enough and didn't mind waiting for her
final verdict. He had the ability to laugh at the