Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(32)

Guarding her, that was what he was signed up for. Seducing her was out of the question. She would end up hating him for it, and he would deserve it. Even he wasn't capable of that much self-delusion. He could see how it would look to Nick's eyes. Connor goes to a lonely, vulnerable girl's apartment at night, tells her the bad guys are out to get her. Then he kidnaps her, bullies her, sequesters her suitcase, sticks his tongue down her throat, gropes her tits, shoves up her skirt. He'd been a heartbeat away from laying her out on the hood of his car and having at her, in front of God and everyone.

What a f*cking hero.

She was huddled as far away from him on the seat as she could get, her fingers hiding her rosy, reddened lips. Probably wondering if he was going to leap on her like a wild animal.

"Almost there," he said.

Her face was pale gold again, except for faint rosy stains high on her delicate cheekbones. She nodded and looked swiftly away.

He pulled into the parking lot of the Crow's Nest Inn. It was a rustic place, covered with weathered gray shingles. Each of the rooms had a deck with an ocean view. He'd stayed here a few years back on a road trip, and had liked the place. "It's not as fancy as the millionaire's resort hotel," he told her. "But at least here you're on your own turf."

She got out of the car. "I'm on your turf, Connor. Not mine."

Her uppity tone stung him. "Do you think I'm making this stuff up, Erin?" he demanded.

Somehow she looked down her nose at him even though he was a head taller than she. "It's impossible for me to believe that Claude Mueller could have anything to do with Novak. Four times I've gone out on consulting jobs for him. Every time I've been treated with courtesy and respect. Which is more than I've gotten from anyone else lately."

"Like me?" he demanded.

"Yes, you," she said haughtily. "I didn't ask for your help. The only reason I am allowing you to force it on me is because I genuinely appreciate your concern, and—"

"Gee, thanks," he growled.

"—and I believe that it is sincere, if completely unnecessary—"

"Unnecessary, my ass!"

"—and I insist that you stop yelling. It's embarrassing."

He glanced around. She was right. People were gawking.

The next challenge to his self-control proved to be the check-in clerk, a gangly, pimpled kid who was hot to do his promotional spiel.

"A double room is eighty-five, but the Crow's Nest Suite is available. It's got a king-sized bed and a Jacuzzi," he informed them. "It's ten dollars more than the double, and we offer a complimentary—"

Connor slapped down two fifties. "Give me a room with two double beds," he said curtly. "Non-smoking."

The kid's spotted forehead furrowed in perplexity. "But the Crow's Nest Suite is only ten dollars more. Don't you want the Jacuzzi?"

He pictured Erin in a Jacuzzi, her dark hair spread out like a lily pad. Then, rising out of the water in a soft-focus cloud of steam, her hair clinging to every curve and contour of her flushed body, her skin beaded with drops of water, her breasts—

"No, I do not want the goddamn Jacuzzi," he snarled.

The kid jerked away from the counter at his tone.

Erin followed him to the elevator after he filled out the forms. Her eyes were downcast, her lashes casting fanlike shadows on her cheeks. It drove him nuts that he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

It was a nice room, large and fresh smelling, with a picture window and deck overlooking the beach. He bolted the door behind them, and mounted one of the squealers Seth had given him onto the door. Erin drifted over to the window and stared down at the sea foam pulsing over the gleaming sand. Seagulls strutted on it, as big as geese, leaving delicate tracks that washed away with every wave.

He stared at her back. She had such a proud way of holding her head, her back elegantly straight. Like a princess. Gleaming locks of loosened hair dangled below her chin. His body cramped with lust.

It was hard to believe that mind-blowing kiss in the parking garage had really happened. Here, staring at her upright dark silhouette against the gray ocean, the memory had the feel of a wishful dream.

"Uh, sorry you have to share a room with me," he said gruffly. "But if I'm going to guard you, I have to—"

"Of course," she said, cool as a cucumber.

He floundered on. "Look. I really don't intend to take advantage of the situation. What happened at the airport, I, uh… just lost my head. But it won't happen again."

"It's all right. Please don't give it another thought." She gave him a brief, dismissive smile, the equivalent of a pat on the head to calm down an overeager dog. She turned back to the window.

The subject was definitively closed.

He gritted his teeth. This had seemed so straightforward back in Seattle. Now he felt like he was walking a tightrope over boiling lava.

He needed a smoke. He sat down on a bed and pulled out his stash. When he finished rolling the cigarette, she was watching him, her expression disapproving.

"It's a non-smoking room," she reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. I'll smoke it out on the deck," he told her.

Her dark eyebrows flicked together. "It's raining out there," she said. "And you must know those are terribly bad for you."