Page 37 of Never the Same

“And?”

“No sign of any dude having also been in your suite,” I said, assuming that was what she was asking, that her family had raised the whole “off with a guy” story to her at some point.

“Apparently, I haven’t dated since college, and the only guy I seem to think I, um . . .”

My hand went up, begging her not to finish that dangling thought.

She discarded a pent-up breath. “I’m sorry. Julian overwhelmed me in our family’s secret lair, and I learned some things, so I don’t feel”—she began unbuttoning her gold blouse as if this were the most normal thing to do right now—“like myself. Crazy, since I don’t know the real me, but you get the idea, right?”

“And you’re taking off your shirt because . . . ?” I had no choice but to close the gap between us and take hold of her wrist, halting her.

The glimpse of that nude lacy bra that couldn’t contain the swell of her breasts would live rent-free in my head forever.

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even realize I was doing it.” She clutched the fabric. “This is my mother’s, and it feels wrong to wear. I just wanted it off.”

I unhanded her, but I wasn’t ready to back up, worried she might reopen her blouse and kill me.

“Someone tossed your hotel suite and took a knife to your Prada, but I threw all your clothes back in it. I brought it here.” I hiked a thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll go find it if you promise to keep your top on in the meantime.”

“Someone searched my hotel room?”

“So, no one told you that?”

She shook her head.

“Your gun and purse were missing, and if you had a laptop or tablet—gone too.” I turned to the side, ready to exfil and hunt down her suitcase.

“I really didn’t do this to myself, did I?” she whispered as if that’d ever been a possibility and it had finally hit her that she was innocent.

She lost hold of the silk while stumbling backward, sending me forward yet again to keep her shirt and my shit together.

By the grace of God, I got to her in time before I got another eyeful of her gorgeous body. “What are you talking about?”

“I, um.” Her lip slipped between her teeth. She was acting like a lost sheep, scared and alone, waiting to be rescued.

“How about I get your clothes first, then we talk after that?” I suggested, painfully aware of how close we were standing and also how it might look to anyone who walked in with me clinging to her shirt for dear life.

I closed my eyes, let go of her top, then turned for the door. “Be right back. Don’t move.” I hightailed it from the bedroom and made my way downstairs to the bag still in the hall where I’d left it.

Back to her room fast, grateful for no awkward bump-ins, I hurried and closed the doors behind me, only to go dead still when facing her.

Her back was to me, but her shirt and bra were on the bed. Her low-rise jeans were snug on her hips, showing off her narrow waist and tight body.

I cleared my throat, signaling I was there, since the closing of the doors hadn’t alerted her. She had to be lost in her own world.

“Can you bring it to the bathroom? I’ll change in there.”

“Good idea.” I went in and out fast, ready to get this over with. “All set,” I announced, shutting my eyes to keep my sanity.

“Never seen a naked woman before?” A feminine huskiness slipped past her anxiety as she spoke.

And you’re still with us. “No comment,” I grumbled, catching a whiff of her as she approached. A different perfume than I was used to. More flowery, and probably her mom’s.

I didn’t open my eyes until I heard the door click shut. Didn’t breathe until then, either. I went over to the window she’d watched me from earlier and propped my hand on the wall by it.

There were two security guards roaming the property while a gardener worked nearby. Quite the contrast. Rifles and flowers.

At the sound of the door opening, my back muscles flexed. “Decent?”