by Beverly Long
It was no wonder that he wore thousand-dollar suits.
For the next forty minutes, Marberry clung to Megan. Perhaps not literally. He kept his hands off her but he was never more than a few steps away. They looked as if they were a couple. And by the time the event was over, Seth was hanging on to his temper by a thread.
He forced himself to relax when Megan finally broke away from Marberry and approached. “How’s it going?” she asked.
“Fine,” he said, picking up on her word that meant everything was indeed not fine.
She didn’t seem to notice. “Weston and I are going to get a bite to eat after this. You can take the car and I’ll grab a cab home.”
No way, no how. “Get a table for three. I was hired to provide security and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“You’re being ri...really somewhat difficult.”
He was pretty confident that she’d started to say that he was being ridiculous but at the last minute, had softened her words. He didn’t care. He excelled at ridiculous. Damn badge of honor.
“I don’t want to have to pull rank but I am the client here. I hired you.”
“That’s true. And you signed a contract, which it appears you may not have read in its entirety. That document clearly states that you agree to comply with reasonable requests to ensure your ongoing security.”
She sighed, sounding weary. She had to be tired. She’d been “on” all day. But he wasn’t simply being a jerk. He certainly wasn’t convinced that the danger was over. As recently as this morning that surprise fire drill still seemed suspicious. He would know for sure once the tapes were reviewed.
And even if there wasn’t any danger, the idea of giving Marberry a chance to get up close and personal was, well, simply a little crazy. He might be a lot of things, but crazy wasn’t one of them.
“If I have to have a babysitter, then I’m just going to tell him that something has come up and I can’t go,” Megan said.
“That works. There’s a restaurant at the hotel where we can get some food.” He looked around the room. It was clearing out nicely. “Same arrangement as last night? That Jasmine will close out the event?”
“Yes.”
“Then I think it’s time we make our exit.” If Marberry saw them leave together, that would give the lawyer something to stew on.
“Fine.”
He watched Megan cross the room and speak with Marberry. Her back was to Seth, which meant that Marberry was facing him. The man’s reaction was controlled—he was probably good in a courtroom. He smiled at Megan, leaned in for a hug that might have lasted a second too long to be considered impersonal, and turned to leave. But at the door, he hesitated and turned to give Seth a stare.
Seth gave him an index-finger wave.
He was pretty sure Marberry didn’t see it as being friendly. The man’s ears turned beet red. So red that even across the room, they were a version of Rudolph’s nose.
Maybe he could feel them heating up, because he turned quickly and left the room. Seth casually made his way over to a window that looked down on to the street. He didn’t relax until he saw Marberry get in a car and drive away.
His cell phone buzzed. Before looking at it, he checked to make sure Megan was in sight. Then looked at his phone. Trey Riker. He’d sent a text to him while Megan was doing her interview in the hotel lobby, asking him to call when he could.
Seth moved to the back of the room, away from everyone. “Hey, Trey. Thanks for calling.”
“No problem. Would have gotten to you earlier but I was on a plane.”
“How’s Kellie?”
“Good. I’m a wreck about these babies and she’s very Zen. She’s really just amazing.”
“She is,” Seth agreed. “Hey, I wanted to follow up on a conversation I had with Royce.”
“I just got done talking to him, too. He told me about his visit to Marta’s Deli and that Ross Lewis is the lone male employee of the deli. He mentioned the possibility the Ross might be related to Logan Lewis. I confirmed that I already knew that to be true. I’d come across it in the background information. But the brothers, if not estranged, aren’t buddies. We got information from a couple of Logan’s friends who didn’t even realize that he had a brother.”
“Any reason for the distance between the two of them?”
“I don’t know,” Trey said. “There’s an age difference of ten years, but I suspect it has more to do with the fact that Ross hadn’t ever held a job for longer than six months and has a couple short-term jail stints for nonviolent crimes. He apparently isn’t very good at stealing things. Logan is definitely more settled. He’s a middle manager at a bank in Cincinnati, Ohio. Has a house in the suburbs. Still has a pilot’s license although he doesn’t regularly fly. Is married with two preschool daughters. His wife stays at home with them.”
Logan Lewis had moved on. It didn’t make Seth like him.
“I want you to talk to Logan,” Seth said. “First of all, we need to know if there’s new information about the crash. If there isn’t, then we need to know what kind of game his brother might be playing.” It killed him to ask Trey to handle the task. He wanted to be the one in the room with Logan, to get a sense of whether he was telling the truth. But to do that he’d need to leave Megan and there was no way in hell that was happening.
Face it, he wanted to see the man whom Megan had been willing to leave.
“Will do,” Trey said. “I’ve got a meeting in Vegas tomorrow but will catch a flight to Cincinnati tomorrow night and talk to him the next day.”
“Thanks,” Seth said, and hung up. Ten minutes later, he and Megan were on their way to the hotel. It was a quiet drive. He did not intend to tell her yet about his conversation with Trey. Didn’t want to catch her up on her ex-fiancé. Didn’t want to have another conversation about Ross Lewis or Marta’s Deli again. He didn’t want her worrying about one more thing.
For her part, she didn’t seem interested in talking to him, either. In the parking lot, she found a space and pulled in. She turned the car off with a quick flick of her wrist and reached for her door.
“Just a minute,” he said.
“What?” she asked, sounding irritated.
“There’s a man by the door,” he said. “He’s got light hair and he looks the right height and weight.”
“Oh.” She turned in her seat to get a better look. “I didn’t even see him when I pulled in,” she admitted.
“That’s my job,” he said. “Does he look familiar?”
The man was smoking a cigarette and talking on the phone. “I never saw my guy smoking.”
“Your guy,” Seth repeated.
“I guess that’s how I’ve come to think of him. My stalker guy. And I really have only seen him from a distance, but this guy has a really thin face and that’s not what I recall. My guy had a rounder face, almost a baby face.”
“Let’s get out. But stay on my left side, a half step back.”
“Okay.”
It was forty-three steps to the front door. Seth watched the man as they approached. He didn’t appear to be paying any attention to them. They were six feet away when the man tossed his cigarette to the ground and looked at them.
Seth saw no recognition on the man’s part. He simply stepped another foot away from the door, as if he didn’t want Seth and Megan to hear his phone conversation. Still, Seth made sure that he stayed between Megan and the man, all the way through the automatic front doors. He put his hand gently on the middle of Megan’s back, to guide her toward the restaurant.
Her steps faltered. “I’m not eating dinner with you,” she said, her voice low. “I mean, I appreciate all this, your thoroughness in evaluating every possible danger, but I’m still...”
“Mad?”
She walked over to the elevator. Stabbed the up button. When th
e door opened, she stepped in. Finally, she turned to look at him. “Mad seems rather childish. Kids get mad when their parents tell them no. When they have to make their beds. When they’re grounded. You know what, maybe I should be mad.”
The door closed, leaving the two of them alone. “Are you implying that I treated you like a child?” he asked. He could feel his own temper spiking and worked to maintain control.
“Maybe,” she said. She ran her hands through her long hair. “I don’t know.”
The bell dinged, signifying the third floor. When the door opened, he went first, checking the hallway. Then reached for the key card in her hand. Their fingers connected and he could feel the zing run up his arm.
He opened the door. Quickly searched the room. Made sure the connecting doors were unlocked. “I’m not going to apologize for doing my job. I guess I didn’t realize how much you wanted to go to dinner with Marberry. What the hell was he doing there, anyway?”
“I don’t know.” Now she was yelling.
It was the first time he’d ever heard her raise her voice.
She threw her hands in the air. “I didn’t invite him.”
“But you didn’t seem too upset about it. The two of you were practically linked at the hip once he arrived.” Okay, maybe he was exaggerating.
She stalked toward him, pushed the heel of her hand into his chest. “We were not.”
Her eyes were big, her face was flushed, her hair was wild. She was fabulous. He wrapped his hand around her wrist.
If their fingers touching had sent a shock up his arm, his hand, her wrist—it was a direct hit below the belt. And her trembling lips told him that she might be feeling something similar.
For days he’d put aside his feelings, tried to temper his reactions. But it had cost him. “Megan,” he said, pulling her toward him.
She lifted her face. He bent his head.
It was a scorching-hot kiss, full of frustration and need and want. And when it ended, her back was against the wall and he was pressed up against her, his hands full of all that glorious hair. Her arms were wrapped around his neck.
They were both breathless.
“Megan?” he whispered.
She kissed him again. And when it ended, he was pretty confident that he had his answer. But he had to be sure. “I want you in my bed.”
“Then take me.”
He rarely needed someone to repeat important directions.
* * *
They didn’t make it to his bed. Hers was closer.
Once there, it was a frantic scrambling of getting naked. The undoing of zippers and buttons and snaps on a bra strap. Need. Want. So difficult to tell the difference.
Energy clung to them, then slipped away, to hover above them as skin touched skin and breaths stretched out, finally calming.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
And she felt as if she truly was.
They lay on their sides, both now fully naked. He was magnificently made, so strong, so male. She ran her hand up his arm, across his chest and laid it flat on his heart. It was beating fast. She bent her head and kissed one flat nipple.
And when he groaned and his body literally jerked in response, she felt superior. She was the cause of all this heat and desire, and it made her feel deliciously female. And when he cupped her breast with the palm of his hand and flicked his thumb across her nipple, she felt the response settle between her legs.
One hand on her hip, he gently pushed her to her back. Then crowded up next to her, so close that their bodies were touching almost everywhere. And then he started kissing her. His mouth was warm and wet and she welcomed his tongue.
As fast as it had ignited, now that the path had been chosen, he seemed to want to take his time. To meander about.
He worked his way down her body. Soft kisses to her neck, shoulder, breast, rib, stomach. He spread her legs. Oh...
She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, could only take. Until finally, she pulled at his shoulders. “Do you have a condom?”
In response, he reached for his pants. When he had the condom in his hands, she helped him put it on his pulsing length. “I want you inside me,” she said.
And when he slipped inside, it seemed as if it was perfectly right, that there had never been anything as wonderful as that moment.
* * *
He’d had sex before. Good sex. But it had never left him shaken. But now, as he tucked a sleeping Megan into his side, he had to admit. He was just about undone.
Her skin was so silky and it smelled so good. And when he buried his head between her legs, her taste had thrilled him. And he’d wanted to make her come with his mouth, but when she’d begged to have him inside her, no man could have resisted that.
Hot. Tight. So damn good that he’d been afraid that he might not make it last. But they’d moved together as if they’d been doing the dance forever, each seeming to know just what the other wanted and needed, until she’d come and he’d quickly followed her over the cliff.
Anybody would say that he wasn’t a man prone to poetry. But if he’d started spouting verse, it might not have surprised him. His damn heart had simply felt full.
He pulled her long hair to the side and kissed her neck. She stirred, stretched, but did not open her eyes. “Megan,” he said softly.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Can we talk about this?”
To her credit, she didn’t simply ignore the question and pretend that she was sleeping. Instead, she opened her eyes slightly, looked over her shoulder and said, “No.”
Then she closed her eyes again and in ten minutes, he was pretty confident that she was indeed sleeping. He wondered if he’d ever sleep again. Felt as if he could maybe do a 5K and then a twenty-mile bike ride. Energy was coursing through his veins.
He watched the clock. And some time toward morning, finally fell asleep. Woke up instantly when her alarm went off and she slipped out of bed. “Hey,” he said.
She was standing next to the bed, holding the sheet up in front of her. “I’m going to go for a run,” she said.
He stared at her. Her hair was tumbling around her face and the sheet wasn’t quite covering everything. Her right breast was visible and it was all he could do not to reach out. To touch. “How do you feel?”
“Great. Really good.”
It sounded forced but it was a definite improvement over fine. He patted the side of the bed. “Now can we talk about this?”
She shook her head. “No.”
His chest started to burn. “Ever?”
“Maybe not. Is it enough if I tell you that I don’t regret it?”
Damn sure better than her saying that it had been a mistake. “Glad to hear it.” He lay back on his pillow.
“Are you running with me this morning?” she asked.
“I was thinking that we could get our exercise another way.” He tossed back the covers, showing his naked body. Showing her exactly what kind of exercise he was hoping for. What he was ready for.
She stared at him. And her cheeks turned a delicious shade of pink.
“Let go of your sheet,” he said.
It took her a minute, but finally her grip loosened and the sheet fell to the bed. Her breath was coming fast. “Do you have more condoms?” she asked.
He was already moving. “In my shaving kit,” he said. “Don’t move,” he added, headed for the connecting door.
She didn’t. When he got back, she was still standing next to the bed. He came up behind her, stood close, close enough that they were touching. “What time do you need to be at the store?” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear.
“By nine thirty.”
That gave them four hours. “I’ve got three more condoms. If we run out, I’ll call room service for more.” And then he bent her forward over the bed.
Chapter 15
Over scrambled eggs and bacon, in the hotel breakfast area, she decided to set some expectations. “About earlier,” she said.
He looked up from spreading jelly on his toast. “Which time?” he asked, so innocently.
Except that she was never ever going to buy innocent from him again. Not after...well...all that. “All of the times,” she hissed. Why did there have to be so many other people eating breakfast?
“I’m listening,” he said. He took a bite.
How could he eat? Her stomach was a wreck. “I want to reiterate that I have no regrets.”
He cocked his head. “If this is the start with something positive approach to giving feedback, I think you can do better.”
“Okay, new rule. You don’t get to talk.”
His eyes told her what he thought of that rule. But he said nothing.
“I just need you to know that I’m not looking for anything serious right now. I have a lot on my plate and a relationship isn’t in the cards.”
He had no change of expression. But he’d stopped eating. His eggs were likely getting cold.
“I am also a very private person and I don’t really want people knowing about this. Especially Abigail. She has to be a hundred percent focused on having her baby. She cannot be worrying about me getting myself into something.”
“You make me sound like a patch of poison ivy.”
“No talking,” she reminded him.
He pressed his lips together.
“So nothing can change about how we interact with each other in public. We are business associates. You are consulting on security.”
She stared at him, looking for some sign of agreement. But it appeared that if he couldn’t verbalize his thoughts, she was just going to have to guess what was going on in his thick head.
“What I’m looking for is light and easy. Just light and easy. No pressure. No commitments. No drama.”
She let out her breath. Picked up her coffee, which was now too cool to drink. Set the cup back down. “I’m sorry that I said you couldn’t talk. That was juvenile of me. Of course you can talk.”