“She doesn’t know you.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Goth Girl and I have nothing in common—except you.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “Ready?”
Carlotta nodded, biting back a smile. Little did Peter know, Goth Girl was the heir to HAL Properties, a holding company for exclusive hotels. Carlotta had caught Hannah red-handed in designer duds and airbrushed makeup looking downright gorgeous at a business event. Peter would probably change his mind about Hannah if he knew…which disappointed her a little. And she wasn’t ready to tell him Hannah’s family was one of Randolph’s clients who lost big when he was accused of fraud over a decade earlier.
She was still grappling with that news herself.
On the walk back to the hotel, Peter clasped her left hand and smiled every time she caught his glance. But she could tell his body language was tense, and she wondered if he was worried about being intimate with her. Things in that department had nowhere to go but up—literally. But hopefully their new status as a couple would be the catalyst they needed in the bedroom.
When they turned a corner, Carlotta looked back and stiffened.
“Is something wrong?” Peter asked.
She continued walking at a slightly faster pace. “Those men from the restaurant are following us.”
“Where?”
“Don’t look back.”
“I’m calling 9-1-1,” Peter said, his head pivoting. “Where’s a taxi when you need one?”
“Quick, in here,” she said, pulling him into a souvenir shop.
“But they’ll catch up to us.”
“They won’t know it’s us.” She walked down the aisles, picking up packages as she went. Without breaking stride, she carried the items to the nearest checkout counter. A bewildered Peter paid while she opened the packages.
“Is there a back door?” she asked the guy at the register.
He pointed. “Through the stock room, but once you go out, you can’t get back in.”
“Fine,” she said, already heading that way. She handed a wrinkled white paper jumpsuit and plastic wig to Peter. “Put these on.”
“But—”
“Hurry.”
She pulled a cheap white dress over her head and situated a cottony wig over her dark hair. They’d gone in the front door Carlotta and Peter, and when they went out the back door, they were Marilyn and Elvis.
“This way,” she said, when they exited onto a side street. “We’ll get behind them. How’s 9-1-1 coming?”
“Still on hold,” Peter said, exasperated.
They turned right and right again, then merged with foot traffic on the main thoroughfare.
“There they are up ahead,” Peter said, squeezing her hand. “They’re looking for us.”
“Keep your phone up to hide your face. Be casual.”
A few minutes later, they walked right by the men who were craning and scanning the crowd. Fifteen minutes later, they walked into their hotel lobby.
“Hello?” Peter said into the phone. “Thanks, but never mind.” He ended the call and made a disgusted noise. “What if our lives had been in danger?”
“But they weren’t,” Carlotta said, threading through the bank of slot machines meant to snag guests who had just arrived. Then she laughed at the picture Peter presented—an outraged imitation Elvis. “Look at you.”
He grinned. “Look at you! That was fun. Wait—where did you learn to do that?”
“I improvised,” she said breezily, stabbing the elevator call button.
But he was looking at her sideways. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Newly engaged and you’re already doubting me,” she chided as the elevator doors opened.
He walked on behind her and picked up her beringed hand. “Newly engaged,” he repeated. “That sounds amazing. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” she murmured.
While Peter pushed the button for their floor, she snapped the elastic bracelet against her wrist.
As they approached their room, she breathed deeply to calm her nerves. She could tell Peter was nervous, too, from the way his hand shook slightly when he used the key card to open the door. When they walked inside, the room seemed smaller and the bed seemed larger. The cover had been turned down in invitation. Their gazes met…
Carlotta wet her lips.
“Why don’t we get out of these costumes?” he suggested.
Undressing each other sounded sexy to her, but when she took a step toward him, he walked past her.
“I’ll meet you back out here?”
“Oh…okay.”
“Do you want me to put your ring in the safe in my closet?”