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“So he went on his own? Without any orders from you?”
“Like I said. He would be the one to ask. My business is knowing everything here at the hotel.”
The way she saws her knife through the perfectly tender meat tells me she would rather use that knife on me.
“Are you in the habit of following orders when you have no idea who gave the order?”
She barely glances up from the plate, making me wait until she’s chewed a bite of steak before answering. “It depends. Do those random orders basically threaten my brother’s life?”
“I don’t think anyone threatened your brother’s life. It was just the opposite.”
Her eyes twinkle, and I know she has me trapped before she swallows her potatoes and opens her mouth. “How would you know if you didn’t send the message?”
Most people become slower when they drink. This girl only gets sharper. I need to learn to expect the unexpected. “Did you send it?” she challenges.
“What difference does it make? You’re here, and it’s because you want to help your brother.”
“And am I helping my brother?”
Her gaze is clear. She doesn’t back down from my penetrating stare the way most people do. Am I wrong to assume she needs help? She seems fairly on top of things. Or is that bravado brought on by alcohol? I’m overthinking this. The girl I met when she faked her way into my room is the real Teagan. Wide-eyed, innocent, naive. Well-meaning but harmless.
“Where are the guys who got arrested?” she asks before accepting a fresh glass of wine. “The guys from the car? Dave and Karl.”
I wonder how she’d react if I told her where she could find Dave this very minute. The idea is almost tempting enough to make me go ahead and shock her. She would learn to stop asking questions. “You assume I would know.”
“Come on.” Her amused snort tells me the wine is starting to work its magic. “Don’t tell me you didn’t find out all about them just like you did about me.”
“How is your food?”
She looks down at her plate, which is now mostly empty, thanks to the way she’s plowed through everything in front of us. “Obviously, inedible. I’ve been forcing my way through to protect your feelings. I might puke later.”
“If you ever decide to abandon the glamour of the grocery store, stand-up comedy might be a good fallback.”
Her lips twitch before she lifts her glass. “Everything was delicious.”
“You should be grateful for that rather than asking a lot of questions you know I’m not going to answer.”
Something inside me rears up in recognition of the grim determination that flashes across her lovely face. Something that’s always there but usually sleeping, like a dormant volcano that decides to show signs of life all of a sudden. She’s a challenge. I have enough of them in my life already. I shouldn’t welcome yet another one.
And I don’t. I do not welcome her. She’s a burden I can’t cut loose. There’s enough blood on my hands already. I don’t need her grisly murder on my conscience.
I can tell once she starts slowing down that she’s had enough. She also managed to drink most of the bottle and is a little clumsy when she gets up from the table. “What now?”
I can see through the false bravado. She’s still scared. That shows she has good sense. What a shame she didn’t have enough sense to tell her loser brother to get fucked when he needed her help. I have half a mind to tell her he isn’t worth the risks she takes, but I don’t enjoy banging my head against the wall.
“Now, I’m taking you back to the room, where you will spend the night behaving yourself like a good girl.”
“You make me sound like a pet.” She hiccups softly. “Are you sure I shouldn’t be in a cage?”
You are in a cage.
But that cage is in place to protect you, not hold you hostage. Keeping that thought to myself, I wait until we’re back in the elevator to answer. “Are you going to behave, or aren’t you? Because I could easily assign a guard to your suite if you need a little motivation.”
She leans against the wall and blows out a heavy sigh. “Sure. I’ll be a good girl.”
I hope she plans on sticking to her word as I punch in the code to unlock the elevator panel. When I look her way again, she has pushed away from the wall and taken a step toward me. “Do you like good girls, Mr. Grant?” she asks in a tone I haven’t heard from her before. There is a seductive note in her voice that has blood rushing straight to my dick.
She takes another step, eating up the distance between us. Her flowery scent fills my nose as she lifts her hand to run a finger down my collar. Her gaze falls to my lips before she pushes up on her tippy-toes.
