Free Reckless (Fractured Farrells: A Damaged Billionaire Series Book 2) by Mallory Crowe Page B

the lobby in thirty minutes!”
    Malia nodded again as she shut the door. Good grief. She padded into the bathroom and managed not to scream in horror when she looked in the mirror. Her hair was a hot mess; the ponytail it had been in was now pushed to the side, with bits of hair frizzing out all over the place. The main saving grace was that she hadn’t worn makeup to the painting job at Dean’s, so her face still held up okay.
    Robert’s jacket was still on the counter. Damn. In their sexual haze, they’d forgotten to call dry cleaning. She ran her hand over the stain, which had actually mostly come off. Maybe it was more a smear of dry paint chips. Lord knew she hadn’t worked any miracles on it.
    She continued to run her hand along the soft fabric, all the while imagining what Robert’s hard chest would feel like. Not that she had to imagine much considering that she’d felt it firsthand just a few hours ago.
    There was another reason she might’ve lost all control around Robert. Maybe she actually liked him.
    She shuddered at the thought even as she couldn’t think of any logical denial. His seduction routine of acting like a decent guy was actually working on her. No. She’d have to remember all the grief his family had caused her. How he’d showed up at her home that morning and practically ordered her to leave and come stay with him. Which he’d gotten.
    Shouldn’t be shocking. He was a Farrell, and Farrells got whatever they wanted.
    There was a knock on the door, and the bellman dropped off about three bags filled with more than Malia would’ve ever thought to ask for.
    She fished out a tip for the bellman. She didn’t have a lot, but at least none of her money was burned in the house. All she had was in her admittedly mostly empty checking account and the cash Dean had given her that morning.
    But she’d worked enough of these small service jobs to know the importance of giving a tip. Once she brought the bags into the room, she emptied them on the oversized conference table.
    She had to hand it to whoever did the shopping. They thought of things she would’ve never asked for. There was a phone charger—which was the right one for her phone—toothbrush, paste, floss, face cream, hair care products, a keycard for the room, and even a varied selection of snacks.
    Malia didn’t realize how hungry she was until the chocolate bar tumbled out of one of the bags. And as soon as she scarfed down the candy, she remembered that she hadn’t had anything to drink since Tina had brought her those ice-cold diet cokes.
    By the time she’d re-hydrated, organized the bags, and tamed her crazy hair, the half an hour had already passed.
    She tucked the room key into her pocket and headed to the elevator. Lindsey sat on one of the plush chairs in the lobby to the resort. Pretty much anyone could pick out Lindsey as a mainlander. Her long legs were shown off in a gray pencil skirt and back pumps with a heel that wasn’t too high, but would probably cause Malia to trip and break her neck.
    People in Hawaii weren’t big on business professional. Sure, people still dressed up sometimes for work. But Malia tended to see just as many professionals who wore Aloha shirts.
    Lindsey saw Malia and stood, waving her over. “Hello! How are you feeling? I can’t imagine how hard today was for you.”
    “I’m fine. I was just a little out of it when you stopped by earlier. You know, I really don’t want to put anyone out. I don’t need to go out for any nice dinners or anything.”
    Lindsey waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ve got the corporate card, so we can go wherever we want. Trust me, I volunteered for this. Besides, you need more than one pair of clothes, right? That’s one thing we didn’t want to buy for you without your input.”
    Malia chuckled. “That’s probably good.” She could only imagine the clothes Robert would’ve picked out for her. Probably everything super tight and