“He told me that I’d pay.” Goosebumps rose onto her arms. “Then he did say all the other stuff. That I wouldn’t get away from him. That he was watching.” This time, she made sure not to look away from his gaze.
“What are you paying for?”
“I have no idea.” She jumped to her feet. Immediately regretted the action. Probably looked to him like she was being deceptive. I am. “My job is to defend accused criminals. I’m very good at my job, so many of my clients never see the inside of a prison cell.” She began to pace. Too much nervous energy fueled her. “Perhaps we’re looking at someone who is angry that I got a client off the hook. Or, conversely, could be that it’s someone who is furious because a client did go to prison. It’s not uncommon for defense attorneys to be threatened.” More pacing. Her bare feet padded quickly over the carpeting.
“Nice toenail polish. The red is sexy as hell.”
Her steps faltered.
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry. “Just getting into the boyfriend persona. You should expect me to say things like that to you.”
Her head whipped toward him. “Not while we’re alone.”
“Saying them when it’s just us gets me in the habit of complimenting you. Makes it easier when others are around.”
Suspicion filled her.
“Trust me,” he murmured. “I’m the professional. I know how to build a believable cover. You need to get used to me complimenting you.” A hesitation. “And touching you. That will be expected if you want people to believe I’m your boyfriend.”
“Yes, I know you holding my hand or hugging me occasionally will be necessary—”
His bark of laughter cut her off. Her eyes immediately narrowed because the laughter…continued. She waited. Tapped the toes that he seemed to like so much, and, when his laughter finally died away, she gritted out, “So glad I can amuse you.”
“Sweetheart…”
Her eyebrows shot up.
Gideon cleared his throat. “That’s just me getting into the habit of using endearments.”
Uh, huh.
“No man in his right mind—no guy who is actually involved with you—would ever be happy just holding your hand or getting the occasional hug. He’d be constantly trying to get you naked and in bed. He’d be kissing you. Caressing you. Trying to get you as hungry and eager as he was. Hell, he’d be worshipping that perfect body of yours.”
Now she was the one to swallow. The hotel room was hot, just as Eric’s office had been too heated. What was up with these Atlanta rooms? She should adjust the temperature. “Just remember this is all pretend. Nothing real at all about it.”
“Pretend. Check.” His head cocked to the right. “If acting like my lover is too much for you, I could always pretend to be a long-lost brother.”
“No. Everyone knows I have no siblings. Lost or otherwise.”
“A friend? A down-on-his-luck guy who is crashing at your place for a few days?”
That was an option, only it was not one she was willing to take. “I need you to pose as my boyfriend.”
“Why?”
Aspen realized he’d pushed her directly to this admission. He was staring at her all intense-like, and she understood that Gideon was someone she could not underestimate. To do so would be dangerous for her. “Because my stalker has made some…sexual references to me.” Tread carefully. “I think having a boyfriend as a shield would work better.”
“Because you think this guy might be someone you were involved with in the past?”
She stopped pacing. “It’s a possibility.”
“You know I’ll need a list of all former romantic partners. Those you slept with. Those you didn’t.”
“How very intrusive.”
“Yep.” Just that.
She glowered.
“Intrusive is the business. I have a partner on this case, and he’ll be working in the shadows, digging up intel on all our suspects. He’ll check out the exes and the current associates—business and friends—in your life. He and I will also check out all your past court cases to see if anything shakes loose.”
She was the one nearly shaking at the moment. “I just need this to end.”
Gideon rose and stalked toward her. “It will. I give you my word—”
A shrill alarm filled the air. So high-pitched and blaring that her ears seemed to tremble. Her heart immediately lurched into her chest then began a frantic, wild rhythm.
“Fire alarm.” Gideon reached for her. His fingers curled around her wrist. “We need to go, now.”
The blaring continued as he pulled her toward the door. In her jammies. “Wait! I need to get clothes—shoes—”
“We need to get out.” He yanked open her door. People were already filling the hallway. A wild, nervous din of voices tangled in the air. “Stairs only, and we’ve got lots of flights waiting.”
“But—” Someone bumped into her from behind. Someone who was running for the stairs.
“Orderly exit, asshole!” Gideon snarled. His body shifted, and his arm moved to curl around her waist so that he was pulling her closer. Shielding her with his massive form. Then it was pretty much chaos. The alarm was blaring. Kids were crying. And Gideon was a huge wall between her and everyone else.
He got them to the stairwell.
He got them the hell out of there.
***
Everyone had gotten out. The fire trucks had rushed to the scene, and the firefighters had raced inside. All the hotel guests stood in a designated “safe” zone. People in all stages of dress. People of all ages. Some people who were pissed at the inconvenience. Some people who were crying out of fear.
Aspen wasn’t crying. She didn’t look pissed, either. Her face was expressionless as she stared up at the hotel. The wind caught her hair and sent it blowing lightly over her delicate cheek.
His gaze swept the crowd. This whole scene bothered him. He didn’t smell smoke, and, sure, maybe the alarm had just gone off in error. But…
We’re out of the hotel. We’re in the open. Uncontrolled environment. Because as far as the parking lot truly being “safe” for them? Ha. Safe, his ass.
A man with sandy-brown hair kept glancing over at Aspen. And that gaze of his kept dipping down her body.
What the actual fuck? “Keep your eyes somewhere else, buddy,” Gideon snapped.
The guy’s gaze jerked toward him. Fear flashed on his face, and he hurriedly stepped back into the crowd.
“You know him?” Gideon demanded as he surged forward.
“Know who?”
The guy who was eye-fucking you. “Jerk in the plaid shirt and blue jeans. He was staring at you for the last three minutes.”
A shiver slid over her. “Probably because I’m in my damn jammies. I told you I needed different clothes.”
And he’d needed to make sure she was safe.
He shrugged off his button-up. The thin fabric of the shirt wouldn’t provide much protection, but it was better than nothing. Especially with her shivering. He put the shirt around her shoulders.
She frowned at it. Then him. “What are you doing?”
“You shivered.” The shirt had long sleeves and it fell almost all the way to her knees. “Thought it would keep you warm.” And he still had on a t-shirt, so he was fine.