One Sizzling Night. Jo Leigh
do.
“Who’s Lisa?”
“My kid sister.”
“And you think she sent you a hooker?” The woman raised an eyebrow. A lovely eyebrow. All the parts of her that he could see were lovely. He doubted he’d ever used or thought that particular word before, but this gorgeous blonde in the tiny towel brought out the poet in him. Among other things. “Interesting family,” she said, with a look that didn’t just dismiss him. It dismissed him with prejudice.
“I don’t have to play nice with you,” he said. “I have no idea who you are. Until I speak to the owner of this apartment, I get to assume anything that makes sense to me.” He moved a few inches to the right and said, “Call Sam.”
Just like that, a screen appeared on the wall behind her. It looked like a large computer monitor with Sam’s company logo in the center. He could hear a phone ringing, the call signal created by the Skype program.
Seconds later, Sam herself was in the center of the screen. Her eyes widened as she got a load of Kensey. “Damn it, Logan. I’ve been trying to reach you. What the hell’s wrong with your cell phone?”
“Nothing.”
“Look again.”
He retrieved his phone from his jacket. It was off. He’d switched it off on the plane in a vain attempt to get some sleep, and had forgotten to turn it back on. That was worrisome on several levels. He turned the damn thing on. “Why were you trying to reach me?”
His cell phone beeped five times in a row. He slid it into his pocket while avoiding looking at the seminaked woman beside him.
“To tell you that you’d have company for the week. I assume you’ve introduced yourselves?”
“Not exactly.”
“Look, Logan, she’s one of the good guys. I know I promised you the place to yourself, but this is kind of an emergency, so please be okay with it.”
He hadn’t decided if he was happy or not, but if Sam said Kensey was good people, he believed her. “You gonna be around?”
Sam frowned. “Aren’t I always?”
Sam wasn’t her usual cheerful self. Normally, she never left a conversation before filling him in on what she was up to. In detail. He rarely understood what she was talking about because Sam was in a class by herself. He wrote her mood off to the security conference. She had a lot of spyware—not just for computers, but for equipment that men like him needed if they wanted to stay alive. She must be up to her neck in clients. “I’ll call you later. And Sam? The place is unreal.”
That made her smile. The definition on the wall monitor was so incredible that he could count the freckles on her nose.
She turned her attention to Kensey. “Sorry about this,” she said. “Yesterday and today have been nuts. I’m normally completely on top of things.”
“I understand. No problem.”
“You’ll get along great with Logan. He’s interesting. And funny.” She glanced at something behind her. “Sorry, I’ve got to run.”
With that, she vanished from the monitor. And the monitor went with her.
“Satisfied?” his guest asked.
“So you know Sam. And you’re here for the conference?”
“Yes.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Neil—” She pushed the hair off her right shoulder, making her appear even more naked. “My boss and I have parted ways. I’m currently freelancing. I understand you’re military?”
“I was, but we’ve also parted ways.”
“Do tell,” she said, moving her hips half a millimeter to the right. “I can’t wait to see if this is the part where you get interesting and/or funny.”
Good thing he’d had a lifetime of training with his sister so he was able to sidestep that comment like a crack on the sidewalk. “Sure you’re not chilly in that outfit?”
Her lips lifted a fraction of a second before settling back into a straight line. “If it bothers you, I’ll go change right now.”
“No. Nope. Doesn’t bother me at all.” He smiled. Tried to remember what she’d asked him about. And wondered how he could move over to where he’d be covered from the erection down without making it obvious that was what he was doing.
“How was your breakup with the military?” she asked.
“Amicable. For the most part.”
“I’m guessing you’re going to the conference because you’re in the security business?”
He nodded. “Cliché as that is. Even civilians need protection.”
“That’s very noble of you.”
“It keeps bread on the table and beer in the fridge. What about you? I think you would make one hell of a personal guard.”
She laughed, her eyes bright with surprise. Green. Definitely green. “I’d be terrible at it. I’ve got no training at all.”
He couldn’t help shaking his head. With those looks and that insane calm in a situation that would make anyone else run for cover, he imagined she’d do just fine. “What do you have training in?”
“You know what? I’m getting chilly. So, we’ll talk again, Logan...?”
“McCabe.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said. “But the reason I came out here was to get a snack. However, I’m reasonably certain that my derriere is not completely covered. I’d appreciate it if you turned away and closed your eyes.”
He let out a deep breath. “Depends. Have you ever heard of Pliny the Elder?”
“Ancient Roman big shot?” The way she looked at him, as if he were a complete wacko made him relax completely. “Wrote the first encyclopedia?”
“Yes. And if you see any bottles in the fridge that look like this—” he turned his beer so she could see the name “—they’re for me.”
She sighed and added a little head shake. “Awesome. A guy who doesn’t like to share. Fine. I won’t touch your beer.”
Walking casually toward the fridge, as if she went to work five days a week wearing a towel and nothing else, she passed him, close and slow. He got a whiff of something dark, sweet and hot. Then she twirled her finger for him to turn his back.
Sadly, he did as she asked. “I’m serious about that beer.”
The pantry door swung open behind him. Something rustled, the door closed and then the fridge opened and closed in quick succession. Kensey walked by him again, leaving her scent in her wake.
Damn, if he didn’t want to lick her like a popsicle.
“I’m serious about you keeping your eyes shut,” she said.
“They’re shut tight. Just slam your bedroom door so I’ll know the coast is clear.”
He didn’t hear any footsteps, so he followed the sound of what he thought might be her munching on potato chips.
Then in the next moment, a door slammed, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the lock was slipped into place.
He needed to have a private talk with Sam. But not before he did something about the burgeoning problem in his jeans.
KENSEY WAITED UNTIL the lock was fully engaged before she let go of the breath she’d been holding. From