Page 236 of Chameleon Killer

“There she is.”

I almost smiled but a knock sounded. It was three hard strikes on the door.

“Carter.” Brewster was not being subtle or quiet. No question who he wanted to answer.

Flint looked at me again. “Get dressed.”

I considered arguing on principle. Then Brewster knocked again. “Mallory!”

Well. Shit. So much for that.

Flint's entire posture changed. His shoulders settled. His jaw locked. Something behind his eyes went very, very quiet.

I touched his arm. “Hey.”

His attention came back to me.

“He knows I'm here.”

“I noticed.”

“Then let's not pretend otherwise.”

Flint held my gaze for a second before nodding.

Together, we collected enough clothing to become socially acceptable.

Mostly.

I pulled on Flint's shirt because I wanted to. I’d like wearing it before he stripped it off me.

He noticed and I caught the look even if he didn’t say anything. We were going back to bed after this.

I didn't care if I had to physically throw Brewster into the elevator to accomplish it.

Flint pulled on a pair of sweats while I stood there in bare legs with his sweatshirt covering my ass. I found panties and tugged them on and then glanced around for—there they were. Sleep shorts.

Standing at the door, he didn’t open it. He’d pulled on a button down shirt but left it open. He checked the camera again while running his fingers through his hair.

Brewster stood outside.

Waiting.

No pacing.

No knocking now.

Just waiting.

That bothered me more.

Flint pressed the intercom button. “What do you want?”

Brewster looked directly into the camera. “I need to speak with Mallory.”

“No.”

Not even a pause.