“Can you? Aren’t you afraid I’ll melt your resistance and have you begging for my body tonight?” He flashed her that cocky grin. “I don’t blame you for being worried. Let’s face it, I’m awesome. I’m smart, I’m wealthy, I’m hot, I’m, like, the perfect guy. It’ll be a real challenge for you.”
She burst out laughing. “Right. You wish.”
Smiling agreeably, he took hold of her hand in what should’ve been a casual gesture, but it sent electric shock waves zipping up her arm and had her stomach muscles trembling with need.
“Look,” he said. “We can check the room availability if you insist, but even if they do have something, I’d rather we stayed together. In case you forgot, you’re my date for the week. You agreed to that, remember?”
“I remember.” How could she forget when he kept reminding her? And she had agreed to abide by his terms of the deal. Not that she’d had a choice, but it was too late to whine about it now. She sighed inwardly. He was just doing this to get back at her for leaving him ten years ago. He wanted to teach her a lesson. Fine. She could handle his little power trip. If staying with him meant that she would obtain the loan money, she was willing to do whatever it took.
That money was vital to her future.
As she crossed the hotel lobby, it was clear to Maggie that as long as she kept looking for a way out of their deal, Connor would fight her at every step. And she wouldn’t put it past him to fight dirty, either. So was it worth her time and energy to keep trying to pitch a flag on this hill? Probably not.
But that still didn’t mean she would sleep with him, no matter what he might be planning.
After confirming with the reservationist at the front desk that there were definitely no rooms available, Maggie needed coffee. She was in luck; there was a coffee kiosk right in the lobby. After slugging down a medium café latte, she again felt capable of adult conversation.
She spent the rest of the morning on the lower level of the conference center, checking in with the judging officials. It took a long time to go through all the necessary paperwork and get her cases of beer unloaded and marked. She didn’t mind the rules and procedures. The officials wanted to make sure that the so-called blind tastings were carried out in a forthright and aboveboard manner.
It was common knowledge that anyone who won a festival award was practically guaranteed thousands of additional orders along with a tremendous amount of free advertising and marketing. So to ensure that each entrant’s beverages received a fair review, the festival operators went to great lengths to set up numerous firewalls and protective measures.
Maggie had no idea security would be so elaborate. Because of her need to remain anonymous, she’d managed to personally avoid the contest circuit for the past three years, so she almost laughed when she was instructed to step behind a thick red drape in order to shield herself from the curious eyes of other contestants in line.
Once behind the privacy curtain, she was greeted by a tall, beefy fellow in a tight black T-shirt who wore a name tag that read Johnny. He looked like a bouncer. “Got your copy of the entry form?”
Maggie handed him the multipage form and waited while he checked off boxes on a sheet of paper clipped to an official-looking clipboard.
“You’re with Redhead Brewery?” he asked in a low voice to avoid being overheard.
“Yes,” she whispered. The paranoia was contagious.
“I’ve never heard of Redhead Brewery and I’ve never seen you around here.”