Lust and Lies 04 - Pretty Maids in a Row

wreckage they were passing.
    Traffic was moving slower than a person could walk. As a reporter, he wasn't surprised at the number of people wanting to get a closer look at a disaster, but he was irritated that they were preventing him from getting his job done.
    It was nine o'clock by the time they reached the hotel where Holly had reservations.
    "Thank you very much for the ride, Mr. Wells. I really appreciate it."
    David grinned. "It was my pleasure. Listen, you were right about this being a good distance from the disaster. You're welcome to come with me the rest of the way."
    "Thanks, but I doubt if I could get a room for the night anywhere else."
    "You could stay with me." He saw Holly's disapproval and added, "I'd be a perfect gentleman, I swear."
    Holly smirked.
    "I have a press pass."
    "I have credentials from FEMA."
    David shrugged. "Suit yourself."
    As she climbed out of the camper, he did as well. "I can manage my bags myself," Holly assured him.
    "I'm sure you can, but a gentleman always sees a lady safely to her door."
    Holly thought he was being a little silly, until she reached the front desk and learned that her reservation had been given away when she didn't show up by six and hadn't called to let them know she'd be late.
    "But I'm sure my assistant would have guaranteed it for late arrival with my credit card," Holly protested.
    They were very apologetic but there was nothing they could do for her. The circumstances were unusual. There were no vacancies anywhere that they knew of.
    She was considering camping in the hotel lobby when David once again picked up her suitcase and headed for the exit. "Let's go," was all he said.
    As he pulled the camper out of the parking lot, Holly pointed across the street to another hotel. "I could try that one. Maybe they have something."
    David shook his head. "You heard the clerk. The motels and hotels are full. The campgrounds probably are, too. Fortunately, we don't need anything but a parking space."
    "We?"
    He shook his head at her. "Please be reasonable. I'm dead on my ass. I'm not going to drive around for another couple of hours in the dark in a strange area when we've been told it's a waste of time. You can try to find a place for yourself tomorrow. For tonight, you can sleep with me."
    "David!"
    He clutched his chest and gasped for breath. "Oh my god! She called me by my first name. Was it good for you too, darling?"
    "Stop it. I'm serious. We hardly know each other. Quarters this small would be cramped for an old married couple."
    "Look, I am so tired, I can't even think of a snappy comeback to that great opening you just gave me. It's getting late. All I want is a few hours' sleep and you don't have any options—unless you want to go wandering around in the dark with the looters." A shudder gave her fear away. "Okay then, I'll take the bed, since it's the only mattress long enough for me. You can have the bunk above us. You'll be perfectly safe up there, I swear."
    "Why? Are you afraid of heights, too?"
    "Ouch. No, I'm not. But I am afraid of falling on my head and that's a very narrow, short shelf. Not at all conducive to fun and games, even if I was up to it. Okay?"
    What choice did she have? She sighed and gave in. It seemed she was doing that a lot around him.
    Another hour in bumper-to-bumper traffic got them only halfway to Key Largo. Needing another injection of caffeine, he pulled the motorhome into a rest area. He excused himself and slipped into the tiny bathroom.
    When he came out, he opened one of the cabinets and removed a jar of instant coffee. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, soup? If it mixes with water we've got it. Or there are cold sodas in the fridge."
    She poked her head around the edge of the big captain's chair. "Tea would be nice. Need help?"
    He laughed and shook his head. "This is strictly a one-person kitchen." From another cabinet he removed two mugs, filled them with water and stuck them in the microwave oven.
    "Don't tell me you're one of those liberated males who knows the difference between a pot and a pan. I would hate to have to alter my biased opinion of you."
    That earned her a wink. "Nope. Strictly a macho-man through and through. Besides, if I learned how to cook, a whole string of restaurants would go out of business. What about you? Like to play with food?" He placed the two steaming mugs on the ledge below the dashboard, then climbed into the driver's seat.
    "I'm one of those modern women who