Her eyes danced with mischief. “Hassan has a Gulfstream. How big is yours?”
“I’m not going to get into a plane-measuring contest with your Arab prince, Slade,” Carrick told her. He carried her farther into the room and kicked the door shut. “But I do have a couple of questions for you, Doctor.”
Sadie ran her fingers over his cheek, along his jaw. “Can they wait?”
“No. Why didn’t you check the peephole before you opened the door? I could’ve been any old serial killer.”
Sadie leaned forward and kissed the side of his mouth, inhaling his gorgeous cologne. “God, I love the way you smell,” she murmured.
Carrick squeezed her butt. “And that leads me to my second question...why did you lie to me?”
Sadie pulled back and frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You said you were naked.” He held her with one arm and tugged at the round neck of her sweatshirt. “Clearly you are not.”
Ah. “Well, that can be easily remedied.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Carrick said, gently lowering her to the bed. He stood up and glanced across the room. “And, God, yes, that painting is damn ugly.” He looked down at her, his smile charmingly crooked. “But you sure as hell aren’t.”