Good Deed Bad Deed, Marcia Morgan [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

there’s a day at least half gone … if I report it,” he said. “Plus, that will delay the interview. I’m just saying … I have to leave in 48 hours to visit my parents, and you have a deadline.” Ben walked to the window and pulled one of the drapes aside, intending to let the morning sun warm the room.

“Forget the deadline. It’s not imminent. Alerting the police to what happened is the only task that matters right now.” Ana pondered his expression, wondering if she had reached his sense of conscience. After a short pause she asked, “How would you feel if someone else ended up hurt … or even dead?”

“Like I said last night, you’re a stubborn lady … but the prettiest one who’s ever tried to boss me around.” There was a certain twinkle in Ben’s eye and a restrained smile on his face that Ana found disarming. She looked down, not knowing why. He had meant to compliment, not embarrass her, so he added a footnote to his remark. “Well, to be honest, my mother is quite attractive.”

There was an awkward moment before she rallied and said, “Don’t try to distract me with compliments. I want to get up and dressed. You’ll need to look out the window or something while I dash to the bathroom.” After Ben obliged, Ana threw back the comforter and took hurried steps to reach the privacy of a closed door. She called out from inside, “I know you’ll wait for me because you can’t reach your shoes, let alone get them on.”

Just loud enough for her to hear, he said, “You’re pretty good at getting what you want, aren’t you?” However, he was thinking that shoes or no, he would not have a problem waiting for her, any time, any place. He sensed it would be worth it.

Ana’s answer was a purposely-loud laugh that came from behind the closed door. “Sure am,” she said, and then he heard the shower running.

Ben sat in a chair listening to the sound of water for a few minutes then decided to check for his phone again. He took his jacket off the chair and saw the phone lodged at the back of the cushion. It had survived, but the battery was run down. He had wanted to call a taxi but would have to use the room phone. First, he had to settle with Ana about the interview, which now seemed even more shallow and unimportant after what had happened to them. But it was the best excuse to see her again. The pain in his shoulder made him angry, angry that he now had to deal with this complication in his well-planned life.

He looked around the room for the pain reliever, but couldn’t find it. He called out, “Ana, when you come out would you bring the Ibuprofen, if you can find it in there?”

She answered that it was there and opened the door slightly to toss it onto the bed. With her towel wrapped head barely visible in the small opening, she said, “Your first stop has to be the druggist, or somewhere they have slings. If you don’t, you’ll pay for it later!”

Ben knew she was right, but what he failed to realize was that his resistance to her nurturing was just a way of hiding his fondness for the extra attention. He helped himself to the pills and washed them down with bottled water from the bedside table. He knew that he needed an ice pack, but was anxious to get out of the hotel room and away from the vague tension he was experiencing. He was locked in a private space with Ana, one with a bed. Even if she were interested, the timing was wrong. He fully intended to get closer to her, but preferred to have two good arms with which to do it.

He made his way back to the window and checked below for taxi stands, but soon realized that the room was located at the back of the building. Surely he would have no difficulty finding one nearby, once he could get things settled with Ana. He noticed that the pain in his shoulder was settling down a bit, but his body felt stiff and sore from the assault. The pills hadn’t helped that. Ben realized that he hadn’t checked himself out and was sure there must be some bruising on his ribcage. He also noticed that his right knee was reluctant to bend. Whether or not he should see a doctor was the last thing he wanted to consider. He would go home and see if some ice would put him right.

While deep in thought, he heard Ana come out of the bathroom. He turned to see her wrapped in a towel and rummaging through her suitcase. “I really won’t be a minute once I find something to wear,” she said, and then pulled out a pair of jeans, holding them high as if she had found a prize. She dug for a sweater and dashed back into the bathroom. Shortly she emerged looking fresh and well put together, other than her bare feet. From another bag she pulled out a pair of designer sneakers and quickly put them on.

Ben liked the casual-looking Ana. Her jeans were slim cut and fit her perfectly. He noticed immediately that the pink sweater was short enough to allow a complete view of her shapely derrière. The cause of the vague tension he had been experiencing was becoming clear, and he realized that he really had to get out of the room before he did something stupid and premature. He found himself moving toward the door, preparing to escape the environment, as well as his feelings. He wasn’t used to pacing himself when it came to women. His philosophy had always been one of seizing an opportunity, and he had the looks and charm that brought about such opportunities with regularity. But with Ana, something told