Secrets of Summer - THE SPECTER SERIES [book four]

Chapter SIX

Kirby Carter

Heat flares in The Vikings eyes at your risque offer..

You can sense he's interested.. More than interested even..

Why the hell wouldn't he be?.. You're basically offering up a once in a lifetime fantasy here.. No strings, No questions, no names..

He finishes the rest of his drink in one swallow, placing the empty glass on the table and standing as he holds out a hand to you.. "Yes mam'.."

You cast one last look over his well toned, hulking stature, quickly finish your own drink
before slipping your hand into his.. The contact of his warm skin on yours giving you a
little jolt of desire that ripples through your heating core, as he pulls you to your feet..

Hand in hand he leads you out of the elegant bar and back through the ornate lobby to
the reception desk, where a tall dark haired gentleman with a cold smug, smile greets
you, without making eye contact.. "Yes, can I help you Sir?"

Ragnar clears his throat and the clerk looks up from his little computer.. "My beautiful future wife and I would like to check in for the evening.."

He wraps and arm around your waist and tucks you close to his side, grinning down at you playfully..

You stare back at him confused..
His what? Why would he say that?..

You flush at the exchange, pressing your lips together to keep from giggling as the clerk continues to ignore you.. "Of course sir.. We have an executive suite available.."

The Viking nods and shrugs a shoulder like he really doesn't care what the clerk is

saying at all, his intense grey eyes never leaving yours.. "Sure.. That'll be fine.."

He produces a tan leather wallet from his pocket, handing the clerk a shiny black credit
card that you don't recognise..

Your heart thuds like a techno beat in your chest as you watch the transaction unfold..
He's the epitome of calm, cool and casual..

Smooth and sharp..

Everything about him has you at ease and on edge at the same time.. You're beginning feel a lustful burn in your belly, everything about being around him feels dangerous.. Yet somehow, safe.. It doesn't make any sense.. But then, nothing really does.. Does it?

When the clerk hands back the credit card and room key, Ragnar takes them, tucking them into his pocket before he turns back to you with that cocky grin..

"Have a wonderful evening, sir.."
The Viking throws a hard glare at the clerk who suddenly turns to you with a smile, a smarmy smile, but still.. "And of course, you too, Miss.."

"Obviously we will." Ragnar leads you away from the counter while you frown back at the clerk in confusion..

Why just 'sir'?.. Why all the rudeness?

If The Viking hadn't made a point of having the clerk address you, he would have ignored you completely.. "Little fucking prick.. Come on, duchess.."

You're still trying to figure it out.. "That was kind of rude, he was--"

"An arrogant fucking asshole making an inappropriate assumption.." He growls in irritation..

You cover your mouth with one hand.. Realising what that clerk was assuming..
That you were a call girl.. An escort so to speak.. Freaking jerk!

Not that you believe there's anything particularly wrong with the profession.. but there is definitely something wrong with a person shaming someone else for such a thing..