Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Chapter thirty-seven
Cole
Idon’t turn my phone off. That’s simply not an option, but neither is me doing or saying anything in this room worth watching or hearing. I decide I should have turned it off when I’ve barely stepped out of the shower, and Tara sends me a text: Should I just come to your room? “No, you should not just fucking come to my room,” I murmur before I text with: I’ll tell you where to meet me when I’ve acquired a secure location. More soon.
It’s then that I realize there is no place in this hotel that I trust to be secure enough to have a private conversation with my extremely famous client. I dial Royce again. “Is the ex-SEAL I dealt with here in LA still running this office?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Aside from him doing damn good work on the Jerome Knight case, I need him to let me use your local offices here to question Tara Knight.”
“Hell, no, you cannot bring that press bomb to my LA office. I can just see the hell that would unfold, and land me on a plane to LA when I should be right here, in New York City with my newborn child and my wife.”
“Right. Understood. Tara’s here at the hotel for that very reason. Her home is a nightmare of press, but I’m also dealing with an uncontrolled environment.”
“She’ll have security that should be able to clear a room for you to meet,” he says, and then seems to think out loud, “but of course, if I were you, I wouldn’t trust anyone but me. I’ll have Adam, or someone on his team come to you now and clear your room. Get a new room that hasn’t been reserved for you. That lowers the odds of a bug.”
“Will do,” I say. “I’ll text you the details.”
“In the meantime, I’ll get Adam moving.”
“Can you record the session?” I ask.
“Yes.”
We disconnect, and I call the front desk, rent a suite with a living area, arrange entry for Adam, and then text the room number to Royce. Next, I punch in Lori’s number, which goes to voicemail as it should. I told her to turn the damn thing off. I decide to just meet her in the hallway and we’ll go eat breakfast.
Thirty minutes later, I’ve arranged for Adam to be given a key to the room, tipped well to have my key delivered to me, and I finally knot the navy pinstriped tie that I’m wearing today. I pull on the jacket that completes the three-piece ensemble, grab my briefcase, and head to the hallway, where I knock on Lori’s door.
She opens it immediately, her hair knotted at the back of her head, and I’m damn certain that the only thing that would hug her body better than the light blue suit dress she has on is my body. “Hi,” she says sweetly, almost shyly, her green eyes warm.
“Damn, woman,” I murmur, hard as fuck with no fuck in sight. “You really are beautiful.” I press my hand to the doorframe before I touch her. “Do you have any idea how much it’s going to destroy me to keep my hands to myself for nine fucking months?”
“Only in public and as you’ve already proven when you think no one is looking.”
I arch a brow. “Your point?”
“Only that I doubt it will be nine months.”
“Meaning what?” I ask.
“Nine months is a long time, Cole,” she says, her hand pressing on the wall opposite mine.
“You think this will fizzle out,” I say and it’s not a question. “You’re wrong, but that’s okay. You told me you’d expect the worst, and as long as we’ll be glad when I’m right this time all is well.”
“Yes,” she says softly. “It’s okay if you’re right and I’m wrong this time.”
“Good,” I say, and fuck, why am I looking at her mouth. I can’t kiss her. Not here. Not now. “I managed to get a suite for the interview, and the Walker Security team is securing it. The meeting with Tara is at ten now. Let’s go on up and order breakfast. I’m fucking starving, and since you’re not on the menu, at least right now, I’ll take bacon.”
“Me or bacon,” she laughs that soft, sexy musical laugh of hers that wreaks havoc on my willpower. “Glad to know I’m ahead of bacon,” she says. “Let me grab my purse and briefcase.” She steps back into the room and I catch the door, watching her enter the bedroom, that damn dress hugging her cute little ass that is presently off limits, before she turns back and walks toward me. I savor every damn step until she stops in front of me, close enough for me to inhale that floral scent she wears. I back up to allow her to exit before I end up inside with her. I punch the elevator button and we stand side-by-side, staring at the doors.