The Wharf. Carol Ericson
shoved that across the handles while I was in there.” She dabbed wet fingers across her forehead. “But it was no joke. I was getting weak and dehydrated.”
“Was there anyone out here when you went into the sauna?” Her flushed red cheeks and bright eyes made her look younger than her picture.
“There were some teenage boys horsing around in the hot tub when I first came down, but they’d left by the time I hit the sauna.”
“They could’ve come back.”
Her eyes darkened to rich chocolate and her nostrils flared. “Maybe. I’m reporting it to the hotel.”
“Of course.”
It seemed ridiculous to introduce himself now after he’d held her half-naked body in his arms, but protocol demanded it if they were going to work together. He cleared his throat and thrust out his hand. “I suppose we should start from the top with a more formal introduction. I’m Ryan Brody. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Ms. Manning, even though the circumstances could’ve been better.”
“Kacie Manning.” She gripped his hand in a firm shake and then her face reddened even more as she glanced down at her wet bikini, plastered to her body and covering just the bare essentials.
Dropping his hand as if he had the cooties, she jerked upright and swung her legs from the chaise.
He hunched forward in his chair, ready to catch her in case she toppled over. “Whoa. You shouldn’t be making any sudden moves. Do you want more water?”
“I want,” she said, her gaze darting across the pool, “my robe.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea yet.” He swirled his finger in the air. “You want to give your skin plenty of ventilation.”
It sounded good, anyway. Truth was, he didn’t want her covering up that beautiful body just yet. The small triangles covering her breasts and nestled between her legs left the rest of her curves on stunning display. The photo on her book cover of her in a blouse and jacket hadn’t done her justice. She’d probably sell even more books if she posed in this bikini.
Good thing she couldn’t read his male-chauvinist thoughts. His earnest look must’ve won out over his lustful one because she collapsed against the chaise longue, crossing her legs primly at the ankles.
“You’re right.” She pressed the back of her hand to her cheek. “But I think my body temperature is returning to normal.”
At least someone’s was.
He scooted his chair closer to her and leaned forward, brushing her wet hair aside and skimming his fingers across her forehead. “You’re hot.”
Her gaze slid to his face and she folded her arms across her chest. “I think maybe I should get back to my room, get some clothes on and report this to the hotel.”
“I’ll help you.” He scooted his chair back and held out his arm for support as she rose from the chaise.
She ignored him, but not for long. As she straightened up, she swayed to the side and clutched at his proffered arm.
He curled the other one around her bare waist. “Take it easy. Just lean on me.”
She took a few shuffling steps and then dragged in a long breath. “I think I’m good now.”
“I can carry you up to your room. It’ll make your complaint to the hotel even better.”
Her dark eyes flashed and he felt their heat. He’d gone too far.
He raised his hands, palms facing forward. “Just a thought.”
She swept her robe from the back of a chair and folded it around her body. The entire pool deck seemed to drop a few degrees.
By the time she reached the door to the hallway, her steps were steady. She turned toward him. “What are you doing at the hotel? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“I left work early and decided to make the drive down tonight instead of in the morning. Don’t feel compelled to move up our meeting time from lunch tomorrow just because I’m already here.”
“Lunch still works for me.” She shook her head and smiled. “Crazy way to meet.”
“I’m just glad I decided to hit the gym for a late workout.”
“Me too.”
She checked out his shoulders and arms, visible in his 49ers muscle T, making him glad he’d just been pumping iron.
He ushered her into the elevator before him. “Floor?”
“Fourth.”
He got off on the fourth floor with her, and she raised her eyebrows. “Are you on this floor, too?”
“One more up, but I’m not leaving you alone.”
“I’m not going to faint, Brody.”
“You never know. You were sweating buckets.”
“That must’ve looked...attractive.” She shoved her key card into the door and a row of green lights flashed.
“That looked scary. You lost a lot of fluids in that sauna.”
She shoved her door open and then spun around, wedging her hands on either side of the doorjamb. “You can wait out here while I change. If you hear a big thump, you know I went down.”
The door slammed in his face, and he jumped back. A little hostile, but he could understand why she wouldn’t want a strange man lounging in her hotel room while she got dressed.
And they were strangers, despite their intimate beginnings on the pool deck.
When she’d first called him a few months before, he had recognized the name. Hell, he’d already read her book on Daniel Walker. Fascinating stuff—former college-football player, respected businessman, Pop Warner coach—went berserk and murdered his entire family.
When she’d proposed writing a book on his own family tragedy, it piqued his interest. Kacie Manning, like many others, believed in his father’s innocence, and she had the resources, research skills and platform to prove it.
In the end, he’d had to run it by his brothers, especially Sean and Eric, the two oldest. They’d known Dad the best and had been affected by the dark cloud over the Brody name more than he and his younger brother, Judd, had been.
He’d braced himself for their opposition, but they surprised him by agreeing, or at least not objecting. They’d even uncovered a few pieces of evidence about the old case that Ryan planned to hand over to Kacie.
A loud thud resounded from Kacie’s room, and he banged on her door. “You okay in there?”
The door eased open and she poked her head out. “I’m still upright, but my suitcase isn’t—fell off the stand.”
“Are you ready?” He nodded at the water bottle in her hand. “Keep hydrating.”
“I’m so hydrated I’m ready to float away.” She stepped out of her room, pulled her door shut and shoved her key card in her back pocket.
As he followed Kacie down the hallway, he scanned her fully clothed form. The addition of a faded pair of jeans and a baggy T-shirt did nothing to conceal her attractiveness. Damn. At the pool, he’d figured his male libido had just been reacting to the way she filled out that bikini.
But this new iteration of Kacie Manning heated his blood as much as the bikini-clad one. The soft denim of her jeans tightened in all the right places, accentuating her rounded derriere. She’d finger-combed her shoulder-length copper hair into tousled, damp waves that looked as if she’d just had a roll in the sheets.
He couldn’t help it. Her appearance tweaked all his male parts. He had a hard time reconciling this lush body with the mind