Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch Read Online Free

He wanted her. She
wanted him. Badly.
    “Good night,”
Willa said distinctly, emphatically. Then she tripped into the hallway of her
room, turned and shut the door in his handsome face.
    “’Night, Willa,”
he said from the other side. With her cheek pressed against the door panel, she
heard him whistling as he moved further down the hall, toward 343. The
whistling stopped, and she could visualize Daniel focusing on getting the key
card into the slot correctly.
    “Damn.” He said
the word softly, but with feeling. In another second, he swore again…and again,
with more force.
    Willa opened her
door and peered down the hall. Daniel stood at the very end, next to the
emergency exit, jabbing his key card into the lock.
    He glanced back
her way. “It won’t open.” Growling low in his throat, he raised a fist to pound
on the door. “Dammit, the damn key won’t work.”
    As he drew back
his arm for another round of pounding, the door panel flew open. A short,
round-bellied, gray-haired man stood on the threshold in a T-shirt and red
plaid boxer shorts. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
    Daniel barely
managed to avoid punching the guy in the face. The effort sent him staggering
backward, up against the opposite wall. “This is my room!”
    “This damn sure
isn’t your room. And if you don’t shut up and get out I’m going to call
security and the cops!” The door slammed shut.
    Daniel closed
his eyes and dropped his spinning head back against the wall. “Why is he in my
room? Where am I gonna sleep?” He hadn’t been drunk in a long, long time. He
hadn’t been this frustrated in even longer.
    Cool fingers closed
around his wrist. “Come on,” Willa said as he opened his eyes. “You can call
the front desk from my room and find out what’s going on.”
    Her touch
soothed him like a soft salve on a hot burn. Blowing out a deep breath, Daniel
followed without argument. Inside her dimly lit room, he dropped to sit on one
of the beds and punched O on the phone. “This is Daniel Trent. I’m trying to
get into my room—my key won’t work and there’s a guy already in there. What’s
going on?”
    A bored voice
asked, “What room number is that, Mr. Trent?”
    “My room. 343.
Why is there someone else in my room?”
    After a pause,
the voice said, “Um…that’s not your room, Mr. Trent. You’ve mistaken the
number.”
    Daniel swore.
“Well, what’s the right number?”
    Another
hesitation. “I can’t tell you that over the phone, Mr. Trent. If you’ll come
down to the front desk and produce some I.D., we’ll be happy to give you the
room number.”
    “Oh, for God’s
sake. It’s just a room. Tell me the number and let me go to bed!”
    “I can’t do that
without being certain of who you are. Our guests’ security—”
    Daniel grunted
and hung up the phone. “Great. I have to go back downstairs and give them some
I.D. before they’ll tell me what room I’m in.”
    Willa sat on the
other bed, facing him, frankly laughing. “You’ve forgotten your room number?”
    He rolled his
eyes. “I haven’t had that much alcohol in quite a while.” Propping his cane in
front of him, he pulled himself to his feet. “I’ll get out of your—”
    The stick
tilted. His head swirled, his balance deserted him and suddenly he was falling
forward. Toward Willa. Daniel managed to twist enough to avoid landing on her,
but his weak leg wouldn’t support his weight. He bounced onto the mattress
beside her.
    Laughing hard,
Willa fell back to lie beside him.
    “I didn’t do
that on purpose,” Daniel said. “I told you—”
    “I know. We’ve
both had too much to drink.” She wiped her eyes, still laughing. “What a
disaster.”
    “Yeah.” He
propped himself on an elbow and looked down at her. “You’re beautiful when you
laugh.”
    She sniffed and
wiped her eyes again. “That’s quite a line.”
    “No line.” He
touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Soft.