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Page 39
Page 39
He smiled a mischievous, wicked smile. And that’s when she realized it was too late to protect her heart, because he already had it.
So you should just enjoy what time you have left, a little voice inside her head said.
But she was still confused. On the one hand, she knew he liked her. A lot. And not for the fame or the money she represented but for her.
On the other hand, something shockingly amazing had happened to her in his bed earlier, and then only a few hours later, whatever that shockingly amazing thing had been, it’d been over.
And that made her . . . Well, she didn’t know exactly. But sad topped the list.
Not that it mattered. Whatever he made her feel—a complicated mix at best—she was writing again, and that was the whole purpose of being here. Not to fall for a guy who lived three thousand miles away who was already in a relationship—with his job.
She’d left his place with the intention of forgetting him and going to write. She’d already put out more pages in the two weeks she’d been here than she’d written in months, and that felt amazing—even if she’d taken her new book in a direction she hadn’t seen coming. It would fulfill her, she told herself.
It had to.
But now she stood there in front of the incredibly sexy man who’d helped her out of her crisis, and he looked like the best diversion she’d ever seen. And he was giving her the sexy, half-lidded bedroom eyes, a look so hot it singed her skin and gave her thoughts. Dirty thoughts. Especially since she knew now that he could back up that look with actions.
And oh good Lord, his actions . . .
He took her hand, using it to tug her into him. The minute her hands landed onto his hot bare chest, she knew she was sunk, that she was taking him to her bed. “I don’t know why I try to resist,” she murmured.
“Me either.” He added an eyebrow waggle that made her laugh and then they were tumbling to her bed.
And then, not two seconds later, he was out cold.
Spence came awake in slow, excruciating degrees. He was facedown, sprawled out in a bed that wasn’t his. Naked. And his aching head might or might not be attached to his shoulders. He couldn’t tell for sure.
With a groan, he managed to lift his head—oh good, it was attached, then—and open one bleary eye. He was in Colbie’s bed.
Alone.
Well he deserved that, he supposed. And he had to say, he wasn’t fond of being the one left behind . . .
No, wait a minute. He wasn’t completely alone after all. There was a weight on his calves. A moving weight. Something on four feet walked up his legs and back and put its wet nose to his ear.
“Meow.”
“Not the woman I was hoping for.” Rolling to his back and dislodging the unhappy cat—who glared at him—he stared up at the ceiling as the night came back to him in flashes. “This isn’t good.”
Apparently coming to the same conclusion, Cinder jumped down off the bed and stalked off, tail straight up in the air, quivering with disapproval.
Spence shook his head and tried to put the flashes of memories in order. Colbie, in his bed, blowing his mind, amongst other things . . .
Then her mentioning that she wasn’t who he thought, and him completely overreacting. Playing poker. Having those evil shots. Winning everyone’s money including Elle’s and then ending up on Colbie’s doorstep, pockets heavy, heart heavy . . .
Things got a little fuzzy after that.
He was definitely alone in her apartment, as the place was completely empty of the vibrant, warm, sexy, fun energy that she always brought into a room with her.
Somehow he managed to crawl out of bed and into her shower, though he groaned and bitched like an old man the whole time. Using her soap and shampoo was an exercise in torture because they smelled like her, which gave him a painful erection that told him whatever they’d done once he’d gotten into her bed last night . . . it hadn’t happened again this morning.
After, he pulled on his jeans and prowled through the apartment. Still no Colbie.
His phone rang and he looked hopefully at the screen, letting out a breath of disappointment at Joe’s name. “Talk,” he said.
“Mornin’ to you too, sunshine.”
When Spence didn’t say anything, Joe went on. “Okay, so you’re not caffeinated yet,” he said, and that’s when Spence started to clue in to the fact that Joe’s voice was missing its usual smartassery and good humor.
“What’s wrong?”
“This needs to be in person,” Joe said. “I’m at your office. Where are you?”
“Two minutes,” Spence said and then made it upstairs in one.
Joe took one look at him and shook his head. “You lost your shirt again?”
Spence ignored this and strode directly toward the coffeepot that Trudy kept here due to his inability to work without caffeine.
“Man, you’re spoiled rotten,” Joe said, working on his own cup. “This coffee is better than Archer’s, and Archer demands good coffee.”
“What’s going on?” Spence asked him.
“I don’t know. I think Trudy must fly to Colombia for this shit.”
“I meant what don’t you want to tell me?” Spence asked with barely there patience.
Joe flashed a grim smile. “I know. I’m stalling.”
Spence stared at him. “Spit it out.”
Joe sighed. Joe never sighed, so this wasn’t a good sign. “Okay,” he finally said. “But I need you to promise me that everything I’m about to tell you stays between us.”
“Or?” Spence asked.
“Or I’ll have to kill you.”
Spence didn’t laugh, because he was pretty sure Joe wasn’t kidding. “Many have tried, no one’s succeeded,” he said. “But yeah, we’re in the cone of silence.”
Joe paced around the office, looking more than a little edgy. Normally he was fun, at times hilariously inappropriate, and usually pretty easygoing when he wasn’t on the job. Today the easygoing was nowhere to be seen.
“Joe, I’ve got a bitch of a hangover. Speed this up before I croak, cuz I’ll be worthless to you then.”
“Okay, okay,” Joe said and turned to face him. “You know Elle asked me to dig into Colbie. And you said I should go ahead.”
“I did,” Spence agreed. “After stalling as long as you could.”
“Which I did. I was actually too busy to get to it. Until this morning.”
Spence nodded. “Thanks.”
Joe studied him for a few seconds. “That’s it? Thanks? You don’t want to know what I found?”
Spence shook his head and then seriously regretted the move.
“You already know,” Joe said. “You know what I found.”
“I do.”
“Pretty cool, right?” Joe asked with a good amount of genuine marvel. “And impressive.”
It really was. Spence still couldn’t believe it, but he wasn’t surprised. Colbie was special. And also, it seemed, especially talented.
“You knowing makes this a whole lot easier,” Joe said. “But you do realize that if I tell Elle what I’ve found, the whole beehive will know. And frankly, I think it should be Colbie’s decision what we tell anyone.”
“I agree.” But Spence understood Joe’s problem. He was in an untenable situation, as he worked for Archer, who was sleeping with Elle, among other things. “Colbie will be okay with Elle knowing. Elle can keep a secret when she wants to. And knowing the truth will make her understand Colbie’s secretive nature. Hell, it might even make her nicer, if not outright protective of Colbie.” He smiled grimly. “We all know she’s like a mama bear when it comes to anyone hurting those she cares about.”
Joe nodded. “But I can probably buy you another few days.” His phone went off. He looked at the screen. “Gotta go.”
And then Spence was alone. He stepped to the window, looking to the courtyard below, and felt something go tense inside him.
A guy in a suit had Colbie by the arm and was steering her toward the street gate. She didn’t look happy about it, but it was fairly obvious that whoever he was, he and Colbie were more than a little familiar with each other.