Kelly Jamieson by How (html) (best fiction books of all time txt) 📕

water pummeling her body like a massage therapist, easing out tensionand knots. She stayed under the spray for long moments, trying to let herstress swirl down the drain along with the foamy shampoo suds. She used thehotel hair dryer to dry her hair partially, but her curls dried better if shejust left them alone. She'd packed so quickly she didn't have her anti-frizzserum with her, so she ran conditioner through her damp hair and hoped for thebest.

She swiped eye shadow onto her lids,brushed mascara over her pale lashes, and slicked gloss over her lips. Justthat made her feel a little better as she gazed at her reflection in the steamymirror.

She took a deep, shaky breath. Shewas okay. She was here, she was alive, and she was with Trey. She barely knewhim, but she felt safe with him.

Not that she needed a man. She couldlook after herself. But damn, it felt so good to have him there.

And not just for protection.Watching him sit at the table in front of his laptop, she'd studied his chestand shoulders. He said he'd lost weight, but he was still impressively muscled,his shoulders thick, biceps rounded, his pecs and abs well-defined. He had justenough dark body hair to look masculine, but not gorilla-like.

He still hadn't shaved and his darkbeard gave him a dangerous look, along with those deep-set, intense eyes.Intelligent eyes, which had roved over the computer screen quickly, reading andabsorbing information.

She wasso attracted to him.She was trying not to flirt, but apparently, she just couldn't help it. Eveninnocent remarks came out wrong. But the electricity sparking between them, theheat, that intense pull, almost made her forget she was not supposed tobe having fun. She was supposed to be miserable and grieving, being punishedfor her sins.

She went back into the room whereTrey still sat with his laptop and cell phone. He was talking to someone namedBill and scribbling notes, focused and intent, and sexy as hell.

She threw the covers up in ahalf-hearted attempt to make the bed. Then she wandered to the window and gazedout at the ocean, blinding and blue, the sky dotted with puffy white cloudszipping along. It must be windy.

She sighed and turned back to theroom, restless and edgy. She spotted a familiar magazine provided by the hotel,advertising Rocky Harbor attractions, and grabbed it off the desk. She floppedonto the bed on her stomach, facing Trey, her feet in the air, and flippedthrough it while he talked.

"Okay," he said, soundinglike he was wrapping up. "Thanks, man. I'm going over there now. Yeah,yeah, I'll keep you posted." He snapped his phone shut and looked atMarli.

She gazed back at him inquiringly.

"That was my partner, BillPatterson," he said. "Former partner." A note of bitternesscrept into his voice. "He gave me contact names at the LA bureau."

She nodded.

Trey stood. "I'm going to havea quick shower."

She nodded again, watched him walkinto the bathroom. God, he was gorgeous. She wanted to run her hands over thesmooth skin and muscle, feel how hard he was. A throbbing ache started betweenher legs, and she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

She pictured him naked in theshower. He'd seen her practically naked, but all she'd seen was his chest.Although his chest was delicious enough to make her mouth water. Her breastsswelled a little, nipples tight. She closed her eyes. A flood of longing wether panties.

He was probably soaping his body upnow. She knew his thighs were big, could tell from the jeans he'd worn. God,she wanted to see them, to see where they joined his hips, his groin...

With a moan, she rolled back ontoher stomach and pressed her hot face into the silky cool bedspread. Her pelvispushed into the bed instinctively. She was still lying like that, trying tocontrol the throbbing heat, when Trey flung open the bathroom and emerged in acloud of steam, clad only in his underwear.

She peeked at him through a veil ofhair without lifting her head, watching him rummage through his suitcasewearing only a pair of snug black boxer briefs.

Oh, yeah. His thighs werebig. His ass was tight. Muscles rippled as he pulled on a pair of black dresspants and the white shirt he'd been wearing the night they met. This time hetucked it in and added a sleek leather belt to the pants.

When he was dressed, she lifted herhead. "You look very professional," she told him. "Very hot, butvery professional."

Why had she said that? Why, why,why?

His cheeks flushed a little as hefinished buckling the belt, then shoved his hands into the pockets.

"Hey, look," she said,rolling off the bed. She grabbed the magazine and moved over beside him."Nice photo, huh?"

She folded the magazine open anddisplayed a glossy page advertising a local restaurant.

He looked at the photo, then at herface. "Yours?" he guessed.

She nodded, smiling. She flipped afew pages. "And this one. And...this one."

The last was a full-pageadvertisement for Surf Coast Brewery, featuring a huge golden dog smilingand...winking.

He grinned. "How did you getthe dog to wink?"

"I winked at him...likethis..." She demonstrated. "And he winked back."

Trey laughed. "Bullshit."

She laughed, too. "Okay, it wasPhotoshop." She studied the image. "I did a damn fine job if I do sayso myself."

He looked at it again and nodded."It looks so real." He smiled at her. "I don't know much aboutphotography, but you're obviously good."

His compliment made her feel good.Warm. Almost happy.

Except she wasn't allowed to behappy. Her mood sank like a brick in water.

"You ready?" He grabbedhis wallet, cell phone and the papers he'd scribbled notes on.

"You betcha." She pickedup her purse, a big soft brown leather sack, and slung it over her shoulder.She took a deep breath. Leaving the sanctuary of Trey's hotel room was just alittle scary.

Fear, however, seemed silly as theywalked through the busy, bright lobby of the hotel and out into the parkinglot. The sun hurt her eyes, the breeze