Actual Stop (Agent O’Connor #1)(30)
“I do not!” I’d have done better to pretend not to know what she was talking about. My fervent denial pretty much confirmed her suspicions. For both of us.
Shit.
“Come on, Ryan.” Stacey placed a tender hand on my shoulder, and the gesture touched yet aggravated me. “I see the way you look at her. It’s obvious that—”
I held up my hand to stop her, positive I was better off not knowing what she intended to say. I believed in plausible deniability. Oh, and plain old denial. I was a definite fan of that, too. At least in this instance.
“Stace, we really gotta go.” I turned abruptly and walked away from the conversation, trying to sweep the entire conversation—revelations and all—to the back of my mind. I brushed the palm of my hand along Allison’s back briefly to get her attention on my way to the elevators but averted my eyes. Stacey’s words had resonated within me on several levels, and I was sure Allison would immediately know something was up.
“Ryan.” Stacey’s voice carried after me and sounded a touch upset.
I got into the elevator with Allison following closely behind and turned back to face the now-closing doors. “I’ll call you later.”
I suffered a brief stab of remorse at Stacey’s forlorn expression. Like I needed that on top of everything else. I sighed and roughly removed the hair tie keeping my tresses pulled back, twisting it around and around my index finger until it hurt.
Allison terminated her call and returned the phone to its place on her belt, turning to study me intently. Silence reigned, and my face grew hotter the longer she stared at me. I resolutely kept my eyes on the doors in front of me and wrenched the rubber band around my finger so hard I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from crying out.
“You okay?”
“I’m good.” I didn’t meet her stare, preferring instead to step off the elevator the second the doors opened and stride with purpose down the hall to her room. I released my now-purple fingertip from the hair tie and shoved it in my pocket.
Allison kept pace with me. “Did that woman say something to you?”
“Nah.” I kept my attention focused on the room numbers as we passed.
“You sure?” She sounded skeptical.
I glanced at her and decided to change the subject. “You know what I am sure about?” Allison shook her head, and I threw one arm companionably around her shoulders. “I’m sure someone promised me a whole lot of beer.” I gave her a final squeeze and let her go as we stopped in front of her door.
Allison chuckled and slid her key card into the lock, shaking her head, and a few stray locks of her thick black hair tumbled across her forehead and into her eyes. The longing to brush them back was almost painful, and I thrust my hand into my pocket to finger its contents in an effort to have something else to occupy me.
“You Irish girls are so easy.” She gave me a sly grin as she opened the door and led the way into her hotel room. “Give you a beer, and you’re thrilled.”
“Hey, that’s not always true. Sometimes we require whiskey.”
Allison laughed again and deposited her bag on the floor in the corner. She shrugged out of her suit jacket and hung it carelessly over the back of the chair at the desk. I started to set up my computer while she methodically removed her equipment and laid it out neatly across the dresser.
“You don’t mind if I take a shower, do you?”
I glanced up at the question. She’d turned to face me, and her fingers were poised over the buttons of her dress shirt as though she were awaiting my permission to take it off. I ducked my head to continue scrutinizing the diagram I’d sketched for the LZ site while I waited for my laptop to boot up.
“Knock yourself out,” I managed to say, pleased that I didn’t sound too shaky. Peripherally, I could see her unbuttoning her blouse. She was clearly trying to kill me. I took a shuddering breath and deliberately concentrated elsewhere, although, admittedly, I wasn’t really seeing anything at all.
Once Allison finally tired of trying to incite an aneurysm by prancing around the room in her underwear, she disappeared into the bathroom, and I could finally breathe somewhat normally and use my scrambled brain.
Sure, occasionally my thoughts strayed back to Allison and what I knew her lean, taut body looked like as she stood under the scalding hot spray, rivulets of water running down her silky smooth skin. And, okay, maybe I entertained a few images of joining her and licking all those stray droplets off, making her moan with pleasure. But mostly I just concentrated on work. More or less.
“Hungry?” Allison asked softly from behind me.
I jumped and hastily shot to my feet, then spun around. For the briefest second, we stood face to face. Our eyes were locked, and our lips were far too close to touching for my comfort. The clean scent of her shampoo intoxicated me, and I had to fight not to lean into her.
Fortunately, a knock sounded at the door before I could fall too far into her midnight gaze. I could only hope my jumbled emotions hadn’t been too clearly on display for the length of time she’d held me prisoner. Fat chance. But at least I hadn’t made an idiot of myself. That was something.
“Stay here.” My voice was barely louder than a whisper. I was aware of how breathy and desire-laden I sounded but was unable to disguise my tone. I ran one hand over the soft skin of Allison’s bare upper arm as I went to answer the door, marveling at the tingles along my own skin.