Page 8 of Herding Cat

Catherine’s eyes widened and she eeped, but she said nothing else.

The ride to their floor took moments. Garrett gestured for Catherine to stay back as he checked out the hall. To his relief, there was no one there. He quickly ushered her to the double doors of her suite and, again, motioned for her to wait. It took less than a minute for him to clear the room, but the entire time, his pulse slammed in his veins. He hated leaving her outside while he checked the closets and the bathroom, but it was safer.

When he was finally certain there was no one there, he pulled her inside and locked the door.

Finally.

Finally she was safe.

He nearly collapsed with relief.

Until she turned to him and said, “I’m hungry.”

He frowned at her. “We’re not going back out.”

“But I’m hungry.”

He stormed over to the desk, grabbed the room service menu and thrust it at her. She wrinkled her nose. “They charge an extra seventeen percent for room service.”

Really? She was a multi-millionaire. “It’s safer.”

She gusted a sigh, but dropped on the sofa—the one he’d be sleeping on, not that that thought winged through his mind—and studied the offerings. “Do you want anything?”

Well hell. He was a little hungry too. They’d had lunch at Hong Kong City Hall, but the dim sum had long ago been burned off. The adrenaline, probably. “Do they have burgers?”

She nodded. “That’s what I’m getting too.”

He liked that about her. Liked a woman who ate real food.

As she called in the order, he did a quick assessment of her suite, checking for any potential security issues. Her rooms were on the top floor of the hotel with no balcony, so that was a nonissue, but the locks on the door were not the best. Also, double doors could be easily breached if they weren’t bolted into the floor. It annoyed him that these were not. He had zip ties though. He could lash the handles together and provide some added security—and time, should anyone decide to attempt an incursion.

After she called in their order, Catherine went to the bathroom. She was in there a long time. Long enough for Garrett to suspect that what she really needed was some time alone. This had been a rough day—for all of them.

Still, after a while, he knocked on the door. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she called, but he noticed it was a watery response.

Yeah. She just needed time to deal with all this. He could hardly blame her.

She emerged just before the knock came on the door, announcing their dinner had arrived. He waved her back into the bathroom and peeped through the fisheye. Just to make sure. And while the waiter rolled in the tray, he kept his Sig close at hand.

You never knew, after all.

Anyone could be a threat.

It was tough, sitting there at the table, watching her eat. Watching her swirl her fries in the ketchup and suck it off. Watching her lick her fingers. Fucking lick her fingers.

Did she have any idea how sexy that was?

He wanted nothing more right now than to yank her into his arms and kiss her.

But he couldn’t. Shouldn’t.

She looked up. Caught him staring at her. Instead of a glower—as he expected, being caught out like this—her eyes widened like a gazelle on an African plain sighting a predator.

And fuck. He felt like one.

Especially when that wanting look flickered through her eyes.