Yet here she was, going up to a stranger’s room after he’d propositioned her earlier in the day. As hot as Liam Houston might be, he’d still offered her money in exchange for sex. So she wasn’t the type of person to have sex for money (which she’d been telling herself over and over again throughout the evening), but she also apparently wasn’t the type of person to ignore the man who’d issued the invitation. Grace somehow, despite all her reservations and fears, found herself knocking on the door to his room. It was as though she’d become a robot, programmed to do this one and only activity of knocking on Liam Houston’s door. But I’m not going to sleep with him. I’m only going to his room so I can tell him what a jerk he is for treating me like a cheap hooker. Was that true, though? Or was she just telling herself that because it would make it easier to convince herself that there was nothing wrong with going one step further, and one step further still? As the door to the room swung open, Grace felt like it was happening in slow motion. First she saw just the plush white carpet, and then the expanse of the suite falling away behind Liam, as he came into bright and vivid focus, standing there in front of her.
