by Jo Leigh
“Guilty as charged.” He didn’t know what to think at the moment. Except that since she knew Sam and who he was, she probably wasn’t trespassing. “What’s your name?”
“Kensey. I’m here for the conference but I couldn’t find a room anywhere in the city,” she said, shifting slightly to her right. “You’re early.”
If she moved another centimeter, he’d be seeing her religion. It was bad enough that the image of her shapely legs was now burned into his brain, and all of his conversational abilities had been overtaken by the potential movement of that small towel.
He needed that shower ASAP. Or ten minutes of privacy. Either one would do.
“Who’s Lisa?”
“My kid sister.”
“And you think she sent you a hooker?” The woman raised an eyebrow. A lovely eyebrow. All the parts of her that he could see were lovely. He doubted he’d ever used or thought that particular word before, but this gorgeous blonde in the tiny towel brought out the poet in him. Among other things. “Interesting family,” she said, with a look that didn’t just dismiss him. It dismissed him with prejudice.
“I don’t have to play nice with you,” he said. “I have no idea who you are. Until I speak to the owner of this apartment, I get to assume anything that makes sense to me.” He moved a few inches to the right and said, “Call Sam.”
Just like that, a screen appeared on the wall behind her. It looked like a large computer monitor with Sam’s company logo in the center. He could hear a phone ringing, the call signal created by the Skype program.
Seconds later, Sam herself was in the center of the screen. Her eyes widened as she got a load of Kensey. “Damn it, Logan. I’ve been trying to reach you. What the hell’s wrong with your cell phone?”
“Nothing.”
“Look again.”
He retrieved his phone from his jacket. It was off. He’d switched it off on the plane in a vain attempt to get some sleep, and had forgotten to turn it back on. That was worrisome on several levels. He turned the damn thing on. “Why were you trying to reach me?”
His cell phone beeped five times in a row. He slid it into his pocket while avoiding looking at the seminaked woman beside him.
“To tell you that you’d have company for the week. I assume you’ve introduced yourselves?”
“Not exactly.”
“Look, Logan, she’s one of the good guys. I know I promised you the place to yourself, but this is kind of an emergency, so please be okay with it.”
He hadn’t decided if he was happy or not, but if Sam said Kensey was good people, he believed her. “You gonna be around?”
Sam frowned. “Aren’t I always?”
Sam wasn’t her usual cheerful self. Normally, she never left a conversation before filling him in on what she was up to. In detail. He rarely understood what she was talking about because Sam was in a class by herself. He wrote her mood off to the security conference. She had a lot of spyware—not just for computers, but for equipment that men like him needed if they wanted to stay alive. She must be up to her neck in clients. “I’ll call you later. And Sam? The place is unreal.”
That made her smile. The definition on the wall monitor was so incredible that he could count the freckles on her nose.
She turned her attention to Kensey. “Sorry about this,” she said. “Yesterday and today have been nuts. I’m normally completely on top of things.”
“I understand. No problem.”
“You’ll get along great with Logan. He’s interesting. And funny.” She glanced at something behind her. “Sorry, I’ve got to run.”
With that, she vanished from the monitor. And the monitor went with her.
“Satisfied?” his guest asked.
“So you know Sam. And you’re here for the conference?”
“Yes.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Neil—” She pushed the hair off her right shoulder, making her appear even more naked. “My boss and I have parted ways. I’m currently freelancing. I understand you’re military?”
“I was, but we’ve also parted ways.”
“Do tell,” she said, moving her hips half a millimeter to the right. “I can’t wait to see if this is the part where you get interesting and/or funny.”
Good thing he’d had a lifetime of training with his sister so he was able to sidestep that comment like a crack on the sidewalk. “Sure you’re not chilly in that outfit?”
Her lips lifted a fraction of a second before settling back into a straight line. “If it bothers you, I’ll go change right now.”
“No. Nope. Doesn’t bother me at all.” He smiled. Tried to remember what she’d asked him about. And wondered how he could move over to where he’d be covered from the erection down without making it obvious that was what he was doing.
“How was your breakup with the military?” she asked.
“Amicable. For the most part.”
“I’m guessing you’re going to the conference because you’re in the security business?”
He nodded. “Cliché as that is. Even civilians need protection.”
“That’s very noble of you.”
“It keeps bread on the table and beer in the fridge. What about you? I think you would make one hell of a personal guard.”
She laughed, her eyes bright with surprise. Green. Definitely green. “I’d be terrible at it. I’ve got no training at all.”
He couldn’t help shaking his head. With those looks and that insane calm in a situation that would make anyone else run for cover, he imagined she’d do just fine. “What do you have training in?”
“You know what? I’m getting chilly. So, we’ll talk again, Logan...?”
“McCabe.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said. “But the reason I came out here was to get a snack. However, I’m reasonably certain that my derriere is not completely covered. I’d appreciate it if you turned away and closed your eyes.”
He let out a deep breath. “Depends. Have you ever heard of Pliny the Elder?”
“Ancient Roman big shot?” The way she looked at him, as if he were a complete wacko made him relax completely. “Wrote the first encyclopedia?”
“Yes. And if you see any bottles in the fridge that look like this—” he turned his beer so she could see the name “—they’re for me.”
She sighed and added a little head shake. “Awesome. A guy who doesn’t like to share. Fine. I won’t touch your beer.”
Walking casually toward the fridge, as if she went to work five days a week wearing a towel and nothing else, she passed him, close and slow. He got a whiff of something dark, sweet and hot. Then she twirled her finger for him to turn his back.
Sadly, he did as she asked. “I’m serious about that beer.”
The pantry door swung open behind him. Something rustled, the door closed and then the fridge opened and closed in quick succession. Kensey walked by him again, leaving her scent in her wake.
Damn, if he didn’t want to lick her like a popsicle.
“I’m serious about you keeping your eyes shut,” she said.
“They’re shut tight. Just slam your bedroom door so I’ll know the coast is clear.”
He didn’t hear any footsteps, so he followed the sound of what he thought might be her munching on potato chips.
Then in the next moment, a door slammed, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the lock was slipped into place.
He needed to have a private talk with Sam. But not before he did something about the burgeoning problem in his jeans.
3
KENSEY WAITED UNTIL the lock was fully engaged before she let go of the breath she’d been holding. From the second she’d seen Logan, she’d been consumed with the thought that her towel would fal
l. It wasn’t tightened all that well. But she’d just stepped out of the shower and hadn’t expected him for another two hours.
She found a thick white spa robe hanging in the closet and slipped into it, and nearly squeezed herself to death tying the belt. Then she turned to look at the wall. “Call—” She stopped. Sam was busy.
They had spoken before Kensey had left New York, and the woman had explained a little about the apartment and who she’d be sharing it with. But Kensey was in no way prepared for the reality of walls changing colors and a shower that had given her more pleasure than her last three dates combined.
And she sure as hell hadn’t been prepared for Logan.
A beep sounded behind her. She turned to see a monitor on the wall with text telling her it was Sam. Kensey quickly accepted the call.
“Hi, Kensey,” Sam said, from the wall.
It was so weird to see her image right there, larger than life. “You went to Hogwarts, didn’t you?”
“I wish,” Sam said. “I’m sorry about Logan. I left him several messages, but I was too swamped with appointments to follow up. I hope he didn’t give you too much of a scare.”
“Scare? No. It was fine, although I might’ve avoided meeting him wearing only a towel.”
“I don’t know how you managed to stay so calm. I would’ve just died.” Sam’s cheeks reddened. “Of course I don’t look like you.”
“Stop it.” Kensey shook her head. “Don’t underestimate yourself. Oh, and speaking of looks, you couldn’t have warned me that Logan is hotter than hell?”
“I guess I’ve known him too long. He just looks like Logan to me. One of my college buddies. But yeah, all the girls back at MIT loved him.” Sam wrinkled her nose. “Huh. Now that I think about it, all the guys I hung out with were pretty good looking.”
“Now that you think about it?” Kensey laughed. “Did you ever look away from your computer?” But what did she know? She had no friends at all, except Neil. She’d always been so worried about guarding her past that she hadn’t exactly welcomed new people into her life.
Well, after this week, maybe she’d make some friends with her fellow inmates at Bedford Hills Correctional Facility.
“Yeah, a group of us hung out. I was the only computer geek. Logan studied political science, forensics and languages. He speaks four. Anyway, our friendship was mostly accidental but it turned out to be one of the best parts of university life for me.”
Kensey started to ask which languages, but thought better of it. She couldn’t think of Logan as anything but a temporary roommate. In fact, she couldn’t afford to think about him at all, so she changed the subject. “The body sensors you mentioned yesterday...that’s what’s causing the walls to change color, right?”
Sam nodded. “They’re heat, movement and tone sensors that can pick up if you’re having a rough night’s sleep and cue up something soothing to listen to. Or if you’re anxious, they’ll surround you in calming colors, scents and sounds,” she said patiently, though there seemed to be a lot of activity buzzing around her. “I’m sorry. This week is kind of hectic.”
“It’s fine, Sam. Really. I’ll figure things out. Thanks,” Kensey said. “For everything.”
“Listen, I want you to know if you need anything, you can reach me pretty much all the time. Even if I’m at the exhibition hall. I promise we’ll meet in person at some point.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Me, too.” Sam smiled and disappeared, leaving the wall just a wall.
Except it wasn’t just a wall—it could read her moods. It was all so crazy. She would’ve loved being here under different circumstances. And Logan with those sexy hazel eyes? Under different circumstances, she would’ve loved meeting him.
Sharing the apartment would have been much easier if he’d been unattractive. And meeting him for the first time while she was wearing only a towel? Fantastic. At least they wouldn’t have much interaction this evening. She had to get ready to crash Holstrom’s reception at the Mandarin Oriental.
Kensey flipped on the light and walked into the large closet, a nice hint of cedar rising from the floor. She hadn’t noticed the scent before. Probably because she’d hung everything as quickly as she’d grabbed and purchased the clothes a few hours ago.
She looked at the long row of clothing: dresses, skirts, blouses, pants. All of it gorgeous. And sexy. Way sexier than anything she normally wore. But then, these were costumes. More expensive than anything she’d ever owned, and integral to the character she was about to play.
She’d been worried, at first, after she’d done a bit more research about Holstrom, that she wouldn’t be able to get his attention. From what she’d read, he didn’t seem to go for tall blondes, but that wasn’t enough to dissuade her. She knew he loved being the center of attention, and, tonight, she would bring that to him in spades. Then, after he was hooked like a trout, she would vanish into the night.
And come back here to have her coronary in private.
She decided she would go with the beautiful flowing number by Donna Karan for tonight’s party. The dress was the color of turmeric and clay, strapless and tight around her chest, with an airy, semitransparent skirt that flowed past her ankles. She hoped it was enough to get her into Holstrom’s reception and catch his eye. If he proved challenging, there were a few things she could do. The simplest of which would be to drop her small clutch at his feet. Eye contact would be easy once he picked it up for her.
God, all this reminded her of her father. Wherever he was. Before he’d taken a runner, she and her father had lived the high life. They went to extravagant parties and ate at the best restaurants in New York City, Paris and Rome. The memories made her heart race—but not in an entirely good way. Believing she could get Holstrom to show her his secret collection had seemed easier two hundred miles away in Tarrytown. But it wasn’t as if she had much of a choice.
After applying a good deal more makeup than usual and slicking her hair completely off her face, she checked her new dramatic look in the mirror. She decided against wearing any jewelry. It took her a minute to believe she was staring at her own reflection, and then she was ready to go, slippery clutch in hand.
“Hey,” Logan said, as he walked down the hallway from his bedroom. “I’m going to order a pizza. Want in?”
He blinked at her. Damn, he was good looking. The way his jeans fit him, the V of a tight waist and broad shoulders. His sun-streaked brown hair was slightly damp and slicked back. She would have loved to stick around and see if he was everything Sam claimed, but she couldn’t.
“I’ve got someplace to be,” she said.
He returned the toe-to-head scan. “Wow.”
Kensey smiled. Managed to look flattered but not overly so. “Thanks. Pizza would’ve been good, though,” she said, and probably shouldn’t have. “But now, I’ve got to run.”
“Have you ordered a taxi yet?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
The way his gaze moved down her body, slowly, then lingered on where the silky fabric grazed her thighs made her want to squeeze them together. If Logan’s reaction was any indication, the dress was doing its job.
His dark brows lowered. “Did you forget—” He met her eyes, cleared his throat and looked away. “Have a good time.”
Fairly certain she knew what he’d been about to say, she tried not to laugh. The flow of the dress was very tricky. Depending on the angle, the lighting, the motion of her body, it appeared as if she might be naked underneath the translucent fabric.
He turned around and headed back toward his room, the walls on both sides turning varying shades of red as he hurried down the hallway.
* * *
THE TAXI RIDE had been good for her, a way to settle and get comfortable in her role. Logan’s reaction had helped. She knew she’d picke
d the perfect dress. The slight alteration she’d made to the bodice made her breasts look larger than they were. But undeniably, it was the stunning gossamer fabric and what it revealed that would help her pass the next test.
A tall beefy man in a black suit stood at the entrance to the banquet room where Holstrom was hosting his reception. Thirtysomething, with hard features, she could tell he wasn’t an ordinary rent-a-cop. A member of Holstrom’s private security team, she imagined. This might not be as easy as she’d hoped.
“Good evening. May I see your invitation, please?”
Standing tall but looking at him through her eyelashes, she pretended to check inside her small clutch. She sighed with a hint of impatience, then snapped the catch shut and dipped her finger and thumb into her bodice, between her breasts.
The man tried not to stare. But he couldn’t seem to help himself.
Her smile turned pensive, not that he’d noticed. Interesting, because he seemed a little old and seasoned to be quite so mesmerized, but she’d take it. Of course she didn’t have the invitation, but she did have a tube of lipstick, which she pulled out. “I know I didn’t leave it at the hotel,” she said. “It may have come loose but I’m sure it’s here. I’d folded it so it would fit.”
She went in for a second time.
Kensey could have sworn his body had tensed, but his expression remained unchanged.
“It’s fine, ma’am. I’m sure you’re on the list.” He gestured to the open door. “Please, go ahead.”
She smiled and walked confidently into the elegant Mandarin Oriental ballroom, grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped from it as she took stock of the party she’d just crashed.
She’d wondered why Holstrom wasn’t entertaining in one of the more intimate suites. Now she understood. There had to be over a hundred people in attendance, plenty of strutting men with beautiful women close at hand. Premium champagne and chilled bottles of imported vodka were on display, as were six young women in tiny outfits who were extolling the virtues of Holstrom’s battle tanks, RPGs, submachine guns, sniper rifles and Lord knows what else.