16
Fire … and Fizzle
Never underestimate the superpowers of a man in love.
I’m at the door, fussing with a card key that evidently thinks I’m lying and won’t grant me access to our hotel room, praying that Lucy Collins is not on this same floor and she doesn’t smell that I’ve returned and then attack with claws and fangs exposed, when the door flies open. Before me stands a hunky, curly-haired fiancé in nothing more than a towel.
“That took forever,” he says, pulling me into the room, taking Nurse Bob’s shoebox from me, peeling off my clothes. “Close your eyes.”
“What are you doing? Tell me there’s food in here. Oh—wait—Dad gave me a hundred bucks for dinner.”
“Room service has come and gone. No peeking.”
“But you’re making me nekked.”
“As you should be.”
“But I need the foods.”
