Close call. “Thankfully. I’m glad you’re here. You look…”
“Tired. I know. I’m definitely feeling the effects of last night.”
Is she kidding? “I was going to say gorgeous.” I can’t stop staring at her. “It’s really a pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too.” She sticks out her hand, then retracts it with a laugh. “A handshake feels weird since I know you so much better than that.”
True, but I don’t want to make Sloan uncomfortable by assuming she wants more. “It does.”
“I’m a hugger.” She bites her lip, looking my way with eyes like a hazy blue day and a pouty mouth I’m dying to taste. “Is that all right?”
“That’s great.” I try not to sound lecherously enthusiastic as I open my arms.
She sends me a soft smile and walks right in. Then I’m holding her tighter than is strictly polite, but she doesn’t complain. In fact, she wraps her arms around my neck, puts her head on my chest, and sighs into me. “This will probably sound crazy, but I needed this. I feel safer already.”
“Not crazy. I feel better, too.”
A few moments pass, and neither of us speaks. I grip her. She clings. Together, we breathe. I inhale her hint-of-strawberry scent. It makes me hard. I exhale lust, watching with excitement as she closes her eyes, nestling her cheek against my chest, and breathes it in.
Fuck. We’re fully dressed and standing in the middle of a crowded public space, and I’m already more aroused—and invested—in Sloan than the last half-dozen women I took to bed.
Never mind being in trouble. I’m toast.
Finally, she steps back and breaks the connection. A laughing group of frat boys stumbling into the bar and 5 Seconds to Summer’s “Teeth” filling the bar ensure it’s too loud for me to hear her.
“What?” I mouth.
Sloan presses close again, lifting up on her tiptoes to murmur in my ear. And damn, her pert breasts rake against my chest. My blood boils in my veins. “I said that it’s kind of loud in here and asked if there was someplace else we could go.”
“My room is on the eighth floor, but if you’re not comfortable—”
“That’s fine.” She wraps her hand around my arm and smiles up at me. “Let’s go.”
Every time she touches me, my brain stops working. Worse, I feel my heart falling with an irrevocable thud at her feet.
I’m fucked. Absolutely, utterly fucked. She’s supposed to be a job. At the very least, I need to figure out who her spy is. All I can think about right now is getting her out of that dress, into my bed, and never letting her go.
Sliding my palm possessively onto the small of her back, I escort her out of the bar, abandoning my half-full scotch and leading her to the elevator.
In the bright lights and relative silence of the lobby, she turns to me with a frown. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. You don’t look much like the picture on your website.”
Shit. “Oh, you know. I hate having my picture taken, and I just…” I shrug off the rest of my reply, hoping she’ll fill in the blanks with whatever excuse makes the most sense to her.
“I get it.” Her frown deepens as she scans my face. “But from the photo on your site, I would have sworn your eyes were brown. But they look hazel green.”
I never noticed the fucking color of Jeremy’s eyes. “I get that a lot. It just depends on the lighting.”
I’m relieved when the elevator arrives. We step inside, and we’re blessedly alone. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to pull her closer. Part of me wants to settle Sloan against my body and has no problem seducing her for information. But the part of me that isn’t engorged and is still thinking rationally knows that if I do, once I tell her the truth, she’ll hate me.
Suddenly, making sure she doesn’t is really, really important. Examining why is terrifying.
Sloan merely sends me a nod and a little smile. “Thank you for coming. I know it was a lot, asking you to fly here. But I feel bolstered, like I can accomplish anything now.”
“You can. I’ll help you however you need,” I promise.
But with my hand still pressed to the small of her back and her taut ass mere inches below my fingers, I can’t deny how much I’m aching to help her out of her clothes and onto her back.
I clear my throat. “Were you able to get everything you need from the office tonight?”