Chapter Fifty-One

Joey blinked at the bus rushing past the hotel on the street far below the window. It was well past noon. The bright sunlight came down at an almost straight angle, cutting between the buildings of the bustling city, penetrating the thin fog that lingered in the streets.

Something was wrong.

She could feel it.

A sense of urgency churning in her gut, she tried to clear the mist that swirled in her head. What had just happened? Why was she standing here? These thoughts spun round and round, leaving her no peace.

At the sound of the shower running, her focus sharpened.

Rory.

The name shot through her, reverberated within her consciousness. Closely followed by memories of his near loss of control when she had taunted him earlier. So close. Just a fraction away from breaking through the barrier of professional behavior he wielded like some sort of shield whenever she tried to get close to him. Her kiss had been all about wanting to be closer to him, needing him. It had nothing to do with the dangerous game they were playing with the psycho killer on her ass.

She wanted him. Wanted him with a passion that surprised her.

Even now, she remembered what it had felt like to kiss him. To feel him respond to her, despite his obvious resistance and frustrating withdrawal.

So honorable, her Rory.

She grinned.

Hands trembling ever so slightly, she touched her lips. It had been so long since she had felt anything good. Especially tenderness. It was completely alien to her. But thrilling, too.

Her stomach flipped unexpectedly, startling her. The attraction she felt toward Rory frightened her as much as it excited her. With no idea what to do about these feelings, she refocused on the things she could handle right now.

They’d be meeting with the men Rory’s friend was sending shortly. She’d better prepare for it.

Joey turned and stopped, frowned at the phone in her hand.

Damn it, now the man was making her moony—she couldn’t even remember picking it up. Why was she holding the phone? Had she intended to call for room service before the view outside—and thoughts of her companion—had distracted her? Highly doubtful, considering they’d had a late breakfast after their return to the hotel just a few hours ago.

She pulled a face at such embarrassing flightiness and tossed the hotel extension on the bed. It wouldn’t do to let the man have that much effect on her. Not now. Not at this stage. She needed her focus for when she decided to confront Bobby…or Creed in this case.

Rory emerged from the bathroom dressed in trousers with the top button still unclasped. And no shirt. Distracting her all over again.

Oh, she was in deep trouble. Here she was, trying to be sensible, but thinking about walking up to him and finishing what she’d started earlier.

“What?” he asked. He stopped, shirt in hand, his muscles coiling under her close scrutiny.

“Nothing,” she lied. “I’m just wondering what’s taking you so long.”

He stared at her a moment longer, measuring her expression and the huskiness of her voice, then reluctantly nodded. “Give me five, and we’ll head on down.”

“You’ve got three,” she informed him, adding under her breath, “Before I decide to jump you, whether you want me to or not.”

He froze at her words, and a certain part of his anatomy responded to the provocative statement, she was pleased to note.

“Don’t start,” he warned. “I mean it, Joey. We don’t have time for games.”

Man, he had a cute butt. She got a little steamy, admiring the way muscles flexed under the pale, taut skin.

“If you say so. Your loss, though.”

Across the room, he swore colorfully.

She just smiled. He was so damn easy.