After she parted ways with Conor, Trixie headed back to midtown where her hotel was located—and Mac’s, he’d mentioned. She needed to find it. Plan A was to keep wandering the streets hoping to run into him. Plan B was to sweet-talk the receptionist clerks at every hotel in the immediate vicinity. Then, of course, there was Plan C, which would be to simply reach out via cell phone.
But her phone was still dead and besides, she wanted to see him in person. Touch him. Smell him. Even when she was furious with him, the subtle scent of his skin had given her that feeling of safety that she only felt with Mac. He smelled like unscented soap and unwavering strength, and she found that wildly sexy.
Half an hour and eleven hotels later, with no sightings of Mac, she decided to go directly to Plan
