Wyatt's War: Hearts & Heroes, Book 1 Read Online Free Page A

buttoning his shirt as the car slid toward the ground floor. By the way she glanced sideways at him, he figured he was getting to her. Either that, or the bright pink in her cheeks was the result of too much sun, a distinct possibility in Texas.
    The elevator car stopped on the second floor and a group of teenage boys in matching baseball uniforms scrambled in, laughing and poking at each other.
    The redhead eased to the back of the car, backing over Wyatt’s boots. She wobbled and would have fallen if Wyatt hadn’t slipped an arm around her middle to steady her. “Easy there, darlin’,” he whispered against her ear.
    She stiffened. “I’m not your darlin’,” she said, her voice low, her comment meant for his ears only.
    He liked that even though she’d started out stiff, by the time they reached the lobby level, she was leaning against him.
    The boys piled out quickly, leaving Wyatt and the woman to exit at their own pace.
    The redhead bolted, heading straight for the reception desk.
    Wyatt hurried after her, a step behind, thinking damn, she has a great ass every step of the way.
    Several people stood in line, many wearing business suits, some speaking Spanish, others speaking languages Wyatt wasn’t as familiar with.
    “Damn,” the redhead muttered. “I don’t have time to wait in line. I have a meeting in…” she glanced at her watch, “…three minutes.”
    Two of the people checking in gathered their key cards and documents and wheeled their suitcases off, opening up a clerk for the next two in line.
    Wyatt glanced at his own watch. He’d be late for his meeting as well. “Next!” a female receptionist called out.
    The redhead hurried toward her. “Excuse me, but there seems to be some confusion. This man claims he was assigned to the room I reserved over two months ago.”
    “Name, please?”
    “Fiona Allen.”
    Finally a name to add to the beautiful face. Fiona. It suited her. She had that red Irish look to her, with the pale skin and freckles.
    The clerk’s fingers flew over the keyboard and she glanced up. “The system shows you in room three twenty-eight.”
    Fiona’s head jerked up and she gave him a triumphant smile. “See? It’s my room.”
    “Your name, sir?” the receptionist demanded.
    “Wyatt Magnus.”
    Again the clerk’s fingers skimmed across the keys. She frowned and hit a few more keys. Then she glanced to the side at the man wearing the manager nametag. “Scott,” she called out.
    Busy welcoming another guest, he ignored the clerk’s entreaty.
    “Scott!” she called out, louder this time.
    Scott turned toward her, the smile he’d been sharing with a customer fading when he looked at the clerk’s face. “What seems to be the problem?” He joined her at the monitor and added his frown to hers.
    “It appears we’ve inadvertently double-booked the room,” he said.
    “What do I do?” the clerk asked.
    “Assign Mr. Magnus another room,” Fiona shot back as if it were the most obvious solution.
    “But—” the clerk started to say.
    “Here, let me.” The manager brushed her aside and pounded the keys, glancing up only briefly. “We apologize for the inconvenience. With the International Trade Convention and the All-Star baseball tournament going on at the same time, we’ve been super busy and corporate loaded new software, just in case we didn’t have enough to deal with. It’ll only be a moment.” He tapped the keys, frowned, tapped more keys and his frown deepened. “I’m sorry, but it seems that all the rooms are booked.”
    “What do you mean booked?”
    “As in full,” the manager said. “Let me call around and see if there are any other rooms available at the neighboring hotels.” He lifted a telephone and called one hotel after another, each one reporting no vacancy. Finally, he glanced up. “I can get you into a motel on the outer loop.”
    Wyatt shook his head. “No can do. My business in San Antonio requires that I stay downtown, as