Frayed (Connections, #4)(10)

When I stand up, she tucks her hair behind her ear and my breath catches. Her face is strikingly beautiful—eyelashes longer than I’ve ever seen, wide green eyes with a look of innocence about them, ivory skin with faint freckles on her dainty nose, and full lips that I want so much to have on mine.

There’s a shift in her gaze as I stare at her and the warmth suddenly disappears. She pouts her lips and then attempts to take the trays from me.

I’m bemused by her mood swing. “Let me help you to your car.”

She turns on her heel and leaves me standing there.

My lips twitch. “I guess that’s a yes?”

She walks toward her cabriolet and clicks her key fob to open her trunk while nodding. The guys holding the larger pans are already beside the car, where they help her deposit the items.

“See you, Bell,” one says.

“Good night, Matt,” she answers.

“Night, Bell. You sure you’re okay?” the other asks.

She looks at me. “Yes. And thanks for all your help,” she calls as they both walk toward their own cars.

They seem young, yet hot for her just the same. But I can’t help wondering if the taller one is having a thing with her. The thought makes my stomach churn. Ignoring it, I set the stuff I’m holding on top of the others and close her trunk. I’m relieved that she doesn’t hurry to get in her car but instead stays where she is. My hands feel a little wet and sticky from the dishes, so I rub them together.

“I have something to clean your hands with in my backseat. Hang on,” she says, and opens her car door, pulling out a pile of black linen napkins monogrammed with a BH in the corner.

I raise an eyebrow. “Contraband?”

Her mouth falls open. “No! I grabbed what I could find quickly from the ballroom when I brought the food in. I used them to wipe up the juice from a tray that spilled on my seat on the way here. I’ll return them the next time I come.”

“Isn’t that what they all say?”

She places her hands on her hips. “I will!”

“I believe you,” I say with a grin.

She hands me one of the napkins.

“You know there’s a reward for items like those.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re lying.”

My smile grows smug. “No, I’m not. Well, there’s a reward for seventy-five-year-old items like them. Come on, let me show you.”

“I don’t know, it’s late.”

“It’s not far, and who knows, we may even run into the ghosts who are said to haunt the place.”

I finish wiping my hands and reach for her elbow. She doesn’t flinch, so I let my fingers slide down her arm and rest on her tiny waist. Heat flares between us. “Come on. I’ll keep you safe.”

She slants me a look, her eyes settling on the position of my hands. She steps back. “This isn’t going to be like one of those Alfred Hitchcock movies, is it?”

I snort. “No, I promise.”

She shrugs. “Sure, okay, why not?”

As we walk side by side, I find that my glance keeps shifting down to her shapely legs and then up to her full breasts. She’s such a knockout. I blink a few times rapidly to erase the images playing in my mind and ask, “You watch Hitchcock movies?”

She clasps her hands together in the cutest f*cking way. “Yes, I love old movies. I used to watch them with my dad all the time when I was a kid.”

I open the side door, which is surprisingly unlocked. “Me too.”

She seems to consider this for a moment before she steps back into the building.

In the hallway of the hotel she’s very quiet. “Everything okay?” I ask.

“Why do you think this hotel is haunted?” she asks, and I think she might actually be a little scared.

“It was built on a cemetery and it’s said you can hear laughing inside the Crystal Ballroom, but when one opens the doors, no one is in there. Some people have even claimed to have seen a ladylike shape walking through it.”

“How did you become such an expert on the place?”

“I’m not really an expert. I bought a book over the summer about the history of LA, and haunted locations was one of the chapters.”

“You mean there are others?”

I step aside as I open a door for her to yet another hallway. “Yeah, like twelve more. The Roosevelt is one. Marilyn Monroe lived there for a while. In fact, her first magazine spread was shot there. It’s rumored that people who stay in room 1200 can see her. I guess that’s the room she lived in.”

Her eyes widen. “See her how?”

“They say they see her living in the mirror.”

The hallways are dimly lit, so I do my best to lead us back to the Crystal Ballroom. The sound of a door slamming makes her jump.

I stop to look over at her. “Hey, Red, you’re not really scared, are you?”

She looks a little pale and I take a step closer to her. She closes her eyes and I follow the line of her jaw to the peak of her collarbone, gently brushing my fingertips up that same line. “Hey, look at me.”

She opens her eyes and there is no denying it. It’s the way she looks at me, has always looked at me. As though she gets me. It makes me want her as I’ve never wanted anyone.

“What are you two doing in here?” a husky voice calls from the end of the hallway. “This is for staff only.”