Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(59)

A deep, sensual ache permeated her body. Her skin was strangely sensitized. The brush of the sheet against her body made her want to writhe and stretch. She opened her eyes a tiny crack and peeked.

Sure enough. It was the hotel room. Oh, God. It hadn't been a dream. It was real, all of it. Hours of it. A delicious shiver rippled through her. She took a deep breath and rolled over to face him.

Connor stood by the bed, looking down at her. He wore only his jeans, his hair waving loose over his shoulders. His eyes looked somber and shadowed. "Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," she echoed. "Did you sleep well?"

He shook his head. She thought of last night's strange, inexplicable phone call, and how badly it had upset him. Of course he hadn't slept, poor baby, but it was probably better to avoid the subject entirely. He was sure to be twitchy and defensive about it.

She sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts. "Was someone just here? I thought I heard voices."

He held up his hand. It was full of condoms. "Turns out there's a vending machine in the men's bathroom in the lobby. I was too crazed to think of it last night. The desk clerk brought them up for me."

He was so casual about it, like it was a given that they were going to make love again, again and again. Heated images from the night before raced through her mind, and liquid heat rushed and throbbed between her legs. She blushed and shrank back against the headboard.

His face hardened. He dropped the condoms onto the bedside table. "Don't give me that scared rabbit look. You don't have to be afraid of me. I would never force you."

Oh, good Lord, he was so proud and high-strung, and now she'd hurt his tender feelings. She grabbed his hand as he turned away and tugged at it. "Connor, don't. I'm just shy, and tired, and kind of overwhelmed. It would be too much, to make love again. That's all."

A slow, cautious smile curved his mouth. "That's cool with me," he said. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "They'll keep."

She stared at him, dazzled at how gorgeous he was. She finally managed to drag her eyes away, and focused on the heap of condoms. "Good heavens," she said blankly. "How many did you ask for?"

"I figured twelve would hold us until we have a chance to get to a drugstore," he said. "Based on how things went last night."

Her eyes widened. "Twelve? Connor, I have to walk past that guy when we check out of here! Twelve? "

"Sorry." He blinked innocently. "Don't worry, Erin. We don't have to use them all this morning. I was just being, you know—prepared."

She drew her knees up to her chest and hid her face against them. "This is a big deal for me," she said. "I don't know how to be cool and casual about it. I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to act."

He sank down on his knees next to the bed. "Don't act," he urged. "Just be. No masks, right? Didn't we establish that last night? I go for that, Erin. It turns me on. And this is a big deal for me, too. Believe me. Now give me a good-morning kiss."

His warm, teasing smile was magnetic. She swayed toward him, and their lips met. Soft and tentative, for the first nanosecond, anyway.

A blast of sexual energy roared through them. She found herself writhing beneath him, the sheet torn away from her naked body, both her hands buried in his thick hair. His mouth moved over hers in a savage, sensual kiss calculated to lead them straight into another bout of wild sex. He could manipulate her so effortlessly.

It took a huge effort of will to turn her face away. "That's enough," she pleaded. "I have to get ready. I have to concentrate. Don't do this to me, Connor. Please."

He rocked back on his heels. "So concentrate. Be my guest."

"You're distracting me," she snapped. She scrambled out of the other side of the bed. Her nightdress was the quickest way to cover herself. She tugged it out of her suitcase with desperate haste.

"Gee, sorry." His eyes roamed over her body.

She yanked it over her head and let it drift into place. "I have to take a shower, and iron my suit. And I have to do something about your clothes, too. They're in a terrible state."

He looked suspicious. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

She pulled out her travel iron and plugged it in. "The clothes you wore yesterday are all right for the meeting, if I iron them, but you won't be going to the restaurant anyway, so it doesn't matter if—"

"Hold on." His eyes narrowed. "Back up a step. What's this about me not going to the restaurant?"

She heaved her suitcase up onto the bed and braced herself for a struggle. No way could she contemplate having a business lunch with her most valued client while Connor hovered over her, being intense and difficult. "I looked up the restaurant on the Internet before I came," she said. "It has a formal dress code. I don't see a garment bag lying around here, so I assume you didn't bring a jacket and tie."

"You're not going anywhere that I don't go, Erin." His tone was cold and flinty-hard. "I thought we had an understanding."

"Don't be silly." She laid a fresh towel against the desk for an ironing board. "I arranged this lunch with Mueller before you entered the picture. Nothing can happen to me in a crowded four-star restaurant And you promised that you wouldn't disrupt—"