Jessica huffed as though they were both missing the point. “Emmitt, whether you think you have a responsibility to her or not, you do. If I would’ve been in the room this morning when Mathew cooked up this idea for her to go with you, I would’ve said no. Evie saved my ass, and I know it cost her a lot. Recording Pierre and making a formal statement to the police against him lost her a job on his movie and hurt her career indefinitely. She’s fragile right now, and it’s partly my fault. I’ve been calling her for hours, and she hasn’t picked up.”
“Then you come up here and babysit her,” Emmitt snapped.
“It’s partly your fault too,” Jessica argued. “You used her as your cover to spy on me for Mathew.”
“It wasn’t spying,” Mathew chimed in quickly, the same way he always did when the topic came up. Calling it spying always infuriated him.
But Jessica plowed through his words. “It’s you who pulled her into this in the first place. All I’m asking is that you keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t get in trouble. She’s probably out right this minute getting hit on by some loser in a bar who won’t take no for an answer. Find her.”
“Are you two finished?” Emmitt asked, drawing in a ragged breath.
“Just do the right thing,” Jessica ordered in a maternal voice. “She needs someone right now.”
Emmitt laughed hardily. “I’m not my brother. I know he’s your knight in shining armor and all, but that title doesn’t run in the family. If Evie gets herself in trouble, she’s just going to have to get herself back out. I don’t have time for it.”
“She’s a nice girl, Emmitt,” Mathew said in a defeated tone.
“And you knew that this morning,” Emmitt reminded him. “And you know who I am. You know better than to put a nice girl in my path.”
“Send her back,” Mathew said sternly. “I was being selfish this morning. I was too focused on the Barringtons and how she could help. You’re right. She shouldn’t be up there with you. Send her back.”
“Guess I’ll have to find her first,” Emmitt replied. “Should I start with amateur night at the strip club down the street or the closest crack den?”
“Send her back, Emmitt,” Mathew ordered. “Don’t fuck with her.”
“What’s the one thing you never tell the bear?” Emmitt joked, knowing his brother’s blood pressure must be skyrocketing by the second. “Don’t tell him he can’t have the honey . . . or he’ll take the whole fucking bees nest out of the tree.” He hung up the phone and tucked it into his pocket. He could picture Mathew now, circling the office, cursing under his breath. Mission accomplished.
But there were other things to be done besides fuck with Mathew. He had an architectural business to research and dissect without being noticed.
He tried to push the image of Evie at some bar being groped out of his mind, but his hands kept balling into fists as he thought it over. She was painfully sweet and wide-eyed and soft-skinned and smelled good . . . He was losing the thread of his thought as he conjured up her image. The point was, she was the kind of girl you wanted to put in a bubble and protect. The kind of girl who attracted the attention of all the wrong men and probably didn’t realize she was in trouble until it was too late.
He headed back to his room and flipped open his laptop. There was a quick solution for tracking Evie down. A pinpoint of her cell phone would give him a good start. Pulling up the application he typed in her number and watched as the small red electronic push pin settled right on top of the address of their hotel. She was exactly where he’d left her.
Pulling his shoes back on, he thought through what he’d say to her. The orders had been clear. Send her back. But he didn’t take orders anymore. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed doing the opposite of what he was told.
So he thought over what he knew so far. Evie wasn’t going to sleep with him just because he told her she should. He’d already tested the waters. To sleep with a woman like her he’d have to be “all in.” He’d have to care. To feel. A cold shiver ran up his back at the idea of it. So if he was going to cross off the idea of sleeping with her, he’d just keep her in Boston long enough to piss his brother off. One more spin of the wheel in a game he loved to play.
Chapter 7
Evie jumped at the loud knock on her hotel door. “No thank you,” she gulped out, trying to yank on her robe. She’d pulled the curtains tight after her massage, facial, manicure, and pedicure were done and decided ten thousand calories from room service menus and a few hours of sleep was just what she needed. But now foggy from her nap and in odd surroundings she was disoriented. “No thank you,” she said again.
“What?” Emmitt’s voice called through the door. “It’s me, just open up.”
“I’m not decent,” she stammered, wondering if he’d found out how she’d been using his credit card.
“Come on,” Emmitt barked again. “Just open up, already. I’ve got shit to do.”
Evie closed her robe as tightly as she could but still felt strange with just the cotton between her and Emmitt. Pulling open the door she stepped back quickly as he charged in and took an inventory of her room.
“You’ve been here all day?” he asked, sounding disappointed. “Jessica was sure you’d be out getting yourself into trouble.” He lifted a paper off the desk in the corner of the hotel room and laughed. “So you were insulted by my cash but you don’t mind running up my card at the spa?” He took in the pile of empty plates on a tray by the door. “And half the room service menu too.”
“What do you mean Jessica thought I’d be getting myself into trouble?” Evie asked, moving a step or two back every time he moved.
“She told me all about your night out, how it ended with you kissing my brother.” Evie watched his face and thought the glint in his eyes might actually be jealousy. But it faded fast.
“Oh,” she said, dropping her head in utter embarrassment. “I can’t believe I did that. But does Jessica really think that’s what I’d do up here? It was a stupid mistake and a crazy night. I don’t go around acting like that all the time.”
“So much so they told me to send you back. Now.” He pulled back the thick black-out curtains and let the light from the setting sun pour in.
“I’m not going back there. They can’t just treat me like I’m a package, a Christmas sweater no one wants.” Evie was certain the only thing waiting for her in Texas was more failure. “And I’m not about to get drunk and make a fool of myself again either. I’m going to . . .” she hesitated, knowing there was no plan.
“You’re going to help me,” Emmitt said as he closed the gap between them. With the wall to her back she couldn’t move away, but truthfully she didn’t want to. The smell of his cologne was wafting by her, and the urge to grab his shirt and pull him the rest of the way toward her was powerful. But she didn’t.
“How?” she asked, bringing one hand up to her face and pushing her hair back. “How can I do anything for you?” His wide muscle-bound chest was at eye level, and she tried to focus on something else in the room.
Emmitt recounted the conversation he had with Asher and explained how he couldn’t easily move in and out of Lance’s office without being noticed. But she could. If she was hell-bent on staying, she’d have to pull her weight.
“I can do that,” she said with an anxious smile. “I can do whatever you want me to. Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”
“Don’t say shit like that when you’re standing there in a robe. It’s not fair.” His hand rose up and brushed her cheek, his deliberate breath rising and falling as he stared into her eyes.
Without warning he leaned down and crushed his lips to hers. A shock of heat and desire bolted through her and tingled its way down to her core. As suddenly as it had started Emmitt was pulling away. And she moaned a little protest at the absence of his lips.
“I didn’t want you to think kissing a Kalling is like the kiss you had with Mathew. He’d give me a bad reputation that way.”
<
br /> She murmured something stupid and then threw her arms up around his neck, trying to yank him back into a kiss. She could feel pulsing shock waves splitting her open, and he’d be the only person who could slam her back together.
Dropping open the robe, exposing her bare body to him, the small hesitation she felt in his lips melted away. Whether it was in her character or not, no longer mattered. She wanted him. She wanted to feel something unmistakably real. Something just for her that quieted her mind and settled her nerves. She knew he was capable of that. Emmitt looked like a man who could make you forget your biggest problems. At least for a little while, until he became one of your problems.
A second later his body banged into hers, pinning her to the wall as he ground himself against her. She could feel his large excited rod eager to enter her, though he was still clothed. His hands slid down and cupped her ass, lifting her from the floor. Instinctively she parted her legs and wrapped them around him. His arms easily held her weight off the floor as he thrust his hardness against her. Unplanned and unparalleled by anything she’d done before, this moment made her fully alive. His passionate kisses landed on her neck and collarbone with bites and licks that were driving her further down the abyss of passion.
They should be talking. Evie should say something, explain what this meant to her and why she was throwing her body at him so willingly. It needed context, and she deserved to know what was going through his head. But words didn’t come. He said nothing as he plunged a finger inside her and rubbed his thumb against her sweet spot. And any chance of her forming a sentence evaporated.
Evie was panting with desire, practically begging for him to plunge inside her as she clawed at his shirt. An incessant chirping noise broke them from each other. He kept her pinned to the wall as he dug his phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen. A text message.
“Everything all right?” Evie asked as a wash of something she couldn’t identify fell over his face. Something had just changed and the room felt suddenly cold. Where a moment ago he was hungry for her, he now seemed distracted and uninterested.
“It’s work. I’ve got to go,” he breathed out as he loosened his grip, letting her body slide down the wall and her feet hit the floor. Leaving her empty and unfulfilled.
He tucked his shirt back into his pants and wiped her lipstick from his lips. “Flip the lock on this door when I go. You should keep it locked.”
“You won’t be back tonight?” she asked, covering herself up as best she could with her hands and trying to feel anything besides mortified.
“No.” He was pulling at the door before she could ask him anything else. As his back disappeared and the heavy hotel door clanked shut she froze. What the hell had just happened?
Emmitt looked down at his cell phone and nearly crushed it with his bare hands as he read the text from Jessica again.
Jessica: Did u find her? I have this terrible feeling she’s with some dirtbag who is trying to make a move on her.
She wasn’t all that far off in her worries. Though he hadn’t planned it, seeing Evie in that thin cotton robe had left him feeling helpless against the lust. It was painful to think what he could be doing to her body this very minute if Jessica’s timely text message hadn’t reminded him who he was dealing with. It’s not that he hadn’t broken dozens of hearts before. It didn’t bother him to think about how many women he left in his wake. But there was something about Evie. Something delicate and endearing he couldn’t seem to shake. The women who had come before would inevitably bounce back from his leaving, but Evie didn’t seem like she would. He’d been a great barometer for women in the past: the lowest measure of a man that they could use to build the list of things they actually wanted in a relationship. He was the before, and the next guy they found was always the after. But Evie was different, even if he couldn’t articulate why.
The idea of using her, owning her body, and then leaving her behind, made his gut twist up with guilt. It was a weakness, something he hated, but for some reason it grew more powerful by the minute. The more time he spent with her the more he knew it to be true. The right thing to do was to forget the idea of fucking her. Stop imagining her long golden hair swept over one of her shoulders as she rode him, his hand clamped on her hips, guiding her up and down. He couldn’t continue to picture her hidden behind the thick steam of the shower, touching her body coyly, and begging him to join her. He couldn’t . . .
“Fuck,” he murmured to himself as the ding of the elevator brought him back to reality. Emmitt’s reputation was one of a selfish, thoughtless prick. Usually he didn’t walk away from a horny woman just because he was afraid, in the end, he might hurt her. So what the hell was happening to him?
Chapter 8
Two days. Emmitt had been gone for two days without so much as a phone call or a text message. She’d called his room a couple times and even knocked on the door. But there was no sign of him. The woman at the front desk assured her he hadn’t checked out, but she wouldn’t provide any other information if she had it.
Evie had spent the time mostly in the hotel. Since she threw Emmitt’s cash back in his face, she was relying mostly on billing things to the room. It wasn’t technically the high road since it was still his money, but a girl had to eat. The money she had in her bank account had to be conserved since she had no real prospects for a future at all.
She rinsed the last bit of lavender conditioner out of her hair and spun the shower knobs to the off position. Grabbing a clean fluffy towel, she wrapped herself up and swept her hand across the steam of the mirror. She looked hard into her own face as though the answer to the nagging question might be there. Why the hell did he leave?
Evie was no prude, but she wasn’t promiscuous either. Her high school boyfriend was her first, and they stayed together for a couple years after that. When he went off to college she dated a few guys and slept with a couple of them. None had ever touched her the way Emmitt had. But none of them had ever left her so abruptly either. She must have done something or said something to run him off.
She was shaken from her thoughts by a knock on the hotel door. “Yes?” she answered tentatively.
“It’s Emmitt.” His gruff voice penetrated the door and sent shivers up her spine.
“I’m just getting out of the shower; hang on, I’ll get my robe,” she said, running her fingers through her wet hair to bring some life to it.
“No,” he bit back quickly. “Just get dressed and meet me in the lobby in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay,” she said through the door, looking quickly through the peephole to see if he was still there.
He looked annoyed, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he clenched his mouth shut. Emmitt stood for another moment or two, looking like there was more to say, then shook his head and walked away from her door.
After dressing quickly and blow-drying her hair, Evie hustled toward the lobby. She had a million questions for him and kept faltering between being angry and being sorry, even though she wasn’t positive why she felt either.
“Where have you been?” she asked, trying to sound cool and unaffected when she strode up to him in the glamourous hotel lobby.
“Doing recon,” he answered, without looking up from his cell phone. “You still dead set on staying up here? If you are, I have a job you can do.”
“I thought you might come back or at least call me. Did I do something wrong? The way you left—”
He cut her off, finally dropping his phone down. “That’s not happening again,” he asserted. “You want to do some stuff and make some money here, fine. I can probably use you. But we’re not doing that again.”
“Why?” she asked, fidgeting with her hands nervously. “You’re the one who kept saying—”
“You just aren’t my type. I’m not interested.”
“Oh,” she croaked out. “Yeah, all right. That’s fine.”
“So when I knock on your door, don’t answer it with just that robe on again
.”
She looked up at him curiously as she worked it over in her head. “Why would it matter what I had on if you’re not interested in me?”
He opened his mouth to speak but closed it quickly as if the wheels in his head spun for an answer. “I need you to go to Lance’s office today and plug this into one of the computers.” The subject changed so fast and with such assertiveness she didn’t feel she could drive him harder toward answering her question.
“All right,” she said, taking a small zip drive from his hand. “Am I just supposed to walk in there and do it? Won’t I need a badge or something?”
“Those are your badge,” he said, pointing to her chest.
“Excuse me,” she asked incredulously, covering herself with her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The daytime security guard’s name is Sinclair. He’s a sucker for a damsel in distress and a nice set of boobs. You wear that pink top you have with the little roses on it, give him a few kind words, wink, and he’ll let you right up.”
“Which pink shirt?” she asked, ignoring how insulting the rest of the proposal was.
“That one with the lace trim. You wore it to Mathew and Jessica’s that night they were celebrating some shit. I can’t remember.”
“You can’t remember it was Jessica’s birthday, but you remember the shirt I was wearing?” She cocked her head to the side as she glared at him. There was something behind the shutters of his eyes but they were nailed shut.
“Go change,” he said, looking down at his watch. “I’d like to be in and out of there early.”
“Then what?”
“Then I take the data and information you download and start formulating a proposal for Asher on the security assessment.”
“But I mean, like what about lunch? Or tonight, what else are we doing up here? I’m sick of eating room service.”
“I’ll pay you for the work you do today, then you can go eat wherever you want.”
Crazy Nights (The Barrington Billionaires Book 3) Page 4