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“It’s a keyed entrance. Where’s your key?” she asked.
The dark glass door mirrored their reflection back at them, and his gut clenched with love and desire for this woman. His wife. Probably the mother of his child.
Fuck, he had to get her upstairs fast before she caught on to his ruse, kicked him in the balls and left him in the landscaping.
“Key’s in my pocket.” He smiled down at her.
“Of course it is.”
She dipped her stare to his hips, causing his cock to pulse behind his fly. “Front or back pocket?”
“Why don’t you try both?”
“Say something like that again, and I’ll punch you in your Roman nose.” She slapped at his front pocket, her fingers glancing off his stiff cock and making him wince. When she didn’t feel a key card, she reached into his back pocket and dragged it out.
Was it his imagination or was she smelling him?The cologne worked.
She hurried to swipe the key, the door opened, and she dragged him through it. “What floor is your room?” She glanced at the key in her hand and huffed an exasperated noise. “Third. Un-fucking-believable. I have to drag your heavy, drunken ass up to the third floor.”
He didn’t respond as they navigated the hotel halls to his room. As soon as they were inside and the door was shut, she released him. He made a grab for her as though about to fall, and she propped him up using her own body.
Slowly, they made it to the king-sized bed. She practically shoved him onto it. Slade dragged his legs up and lay on his back, looking at her.
“I suppose I’d better take off your shoes.” She went for the laces of his boots, and seconds later, both hit the floor with a heavy thump.
Then she stepped back, hands planted on her hips as she glared down at him.
“Hey, Lena.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, Slade.”
He smiled. “I’m not drunk.”
EIGHT
Fury coursed through Lena’s veins. Just when she didn’t thinkanythingcould replace the constant nausea plaguing her all night, she found it—anger aimed at her ex.
She whirled for the door. “You fooled me again!”
His feet hit the floor and he dodged into her path. “When did I fool you the first time?”
She darted to the side to get around him. “When you convinced me to marry you and told me we were equals!”
“We are!” He grabbed her by the arms and held her in place.
She cocked her head and shot him a glare. “Are we, though, if you’re willing to blow a mission to protect me?”
He released her and sliced his fingers through that thick, dark hair that made her own fingers itch to touch every time she saw the alpha asshole. His hair was part of the reason why she was knocked up.
That and his damnable sexy body in a dress shirt. The one he wore now conformed to his broad chest. At one point as he was heading to the kitchen for more alcohol, she swore she saw the muscles of his back rippling under that crisp black cotton that was now rumpled from her dragging him to his room.
Red fury flooded her veins again. “Why don’t we talk about Bosnia?” she demanded.
He cut her a look. “What’s to talk about?”
“Maybe how I had it all under control but you couldn’t stop playing hero long enough to let me domy job?” She set her fists on her hips.
“The whole mission was a disaster from the start, MJ.”
