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The signing tonight. Shit! Right!
The elevator stopped, and for a second, his heart did, too, as his brain flooded with images—not of sexy elevator time but of them frantically calling for rescue before the event.
Then the doors opened, and he realized they’d reached their floor.
Daphne stepped off, and his hand slipped from her waist. He reached to… to what? Pull her back onto the elevator? Awkwardly get his hand around her waist again while she strode off, luggage in tow?
She glanced back, frowning at him. “Are you on a different floor?”
“Just wiping off a sweat streak.”
Sweat streak? Mmm, sexy.
Still, having made the really bad excuse, he had to take a moment to look as if he was wiping the elevator wall. Then he followed her to their rooms. She stopped outside one and held up both cards.
“Randomized room choice. Pick a card. We’ll see whose works.”
His did.
“Meet you at the adjoining door?” she said, and then headed to her own room before he could reply. A moment later, they were both unlatching the adjoining door from their respective sides. He pulled it open first, making her laugh as he nearly yanked her off her feet. She stuck her luggage in front of the door, propping it open, and ducked her head into his room.
“Nice.”
“Identical to yours?”
“Yep.” She leaned against the doorjamb. “So I guess we should shower first.”
“Nah. I thought I’d go to the signing like this.” He plucked at his tank top. “Think anyone will mind?”
“Oddly, I doubt they would.”
“The smell might be a turnoff, though.”
“I don’t smell anything.”
He turned toward her, a smile tugging at his lips as he leaned in—then his phone buzzed with a text.
Seriously?
He took out his phone without looking at the screen and went to set it aside. It buzzed again. His jaw set.
Not looking at it.
“You’d better check that,” Daphne said. “In case it’s Sakura, and there’s a problem.”
He picked up the phone.
Gemma: Rough day.
Gemma: Can we talk?
His shoulders slumped. “It’s my sister. She had a rough day in the divorce proceedings.”
“Ouch.” Daphne backed up, straightening. “You should call her.”
When he hesitated, she reached out, hand touching his. “Call her.” Her gaze rose to his. “Then we’ll talk.”
DAPHNE
