He walked out of the room, a man obviously used to being obeyed, and she did as he asked. She found the guest room to be more than adequate—it was nearly as big as her entire apartment with an enormous walk-in closet straight out of Carrie Bradshaw’s dreams and an en-suite luxury bathroom with marble tub and separate travertine tiled walk-in shower with dual showerheads. She nearly wept with joy. Living undercover for the past month might’ve gotten her closer to her story, but it had left a lot to be desired in the pampering department. Between hustling back and forth to change at the MacLeans and avoiding seeing anyone she knew at any cost, things had been stressful to say the least. By the time she got all her clothes situated and tried on several outfits—all of which fit her perfectly too, damn him—she finally got a chance to try out her new bathroom. Heaven on earth, that’s what it was. The hot water from the massaging showerheads helped ease her aching muscles and left her feeling drowsier than ever.
After drying off then pulling on a pair of her new flannel PJs, these in bright Christmas red with tiny green wreaths festooned all over them, she headed out to find Heath. From his damp blonde hair and charcoal gray robe that set off his stormy eyes perfectly, he’d had the same idea as her. The sight of his bare feet beneath the hem of his black silk pajama pants set off a funny flutter of butterflies in her stomach, as did the glimpse of toned, tanned chest visible through the open V of his robe. Damn, but the man really was devastatingly handsome, especially all relaxed and tousled like he was now. Molten desire unfurled within her and spread like honey through her body before she could stop. She wanted Heath Goldwin, III, no doubt about it, even if she could never have him. It would be wrong. They’d made a deal to work the EnKor case together. Not to mention it would be weird. He was her brother’s best friend. But man oh man, the fantasies she could have. Like tracing her tongue along his stubble-covered jaw, down the strong column of his tanned neck to the thudding pulse point at the base of his neck and beyond. A small moan lodged in her throat and she bit back the sound before it escaped.
At least she thought she had. But then she glanced up and found Heath watching her, his gray eyes filled with an answering need and more than a little wariness. He cleared his throat then looked away fast, a slight frown puckering the space between his brows. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. I’m going to bed so I can hit the research earlier in the morning. And just in case you get any ideas about reneging on our deal, this place is wired for security tighter than Fort Knox, courtesy of my father, and I’m a very light sleeper. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Why do you want to help me, really?” she asked, arms crossed to hide her stiff nipples. The last thing she needed was for him to realize how much he affected her. “Is it all about your promise to my brother?”
“Yep.” He didn’t look at her as he said it, just kept shutting off lights and securing doors and windows. “That about sums it up.”
“I don’t believe you. And I’m too tired for the tour tonight.” For some reason, she wanted to get a rise out of him, shatter that cool, untouchable wealthy-man persona he wrapped around himself like a shield. “And I’ll pay you back for the clothes I wear. I don’t need handouts.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“I mean no. No tour tonight. I’m too tired as well. And no, you won’t pay me back for the clothes and no you don’t need handouts.” He walked down the hall to what she assumed was the kitchen and secured it for the night before returning to where she stood in the living room. He stopped at the keypad on the wall and punched in numbers, which she did her best to read from where she stood. He seemed to notice that too, dammit, and shielded the pad with his hand as he finished up. “What you really need, in my opinion, is a good spanking.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” A loud beep issued, then a countdown from five to one. The lock on the front door gave a sinister snick as the security system sealed them in for the night. So much for her plans to wait until he’d fallen asleep to get out of there. Heath leaned one muscled shoulder against the entrance to the living room, watching her with a narrowed gaze, his robe gaping open even more to reveal firm pecs dusted with a light smattering of golden hair that formed a line through the center of his toned, taut abs and disappeared beneath the belt of his robe. Her mouth went dry as desert sand. And now all she could seem to think about were images of Heath sitting on the sofa with her draped naked over his lap as he paddled her behind.
Not helpful. Not at all.
To keep from melting into a puddle of goo on his pristine hardwood floor, Aileen fell back on her usual defense—sarcasm. “Look, Christian Gray, I appreciate your whole bad boy billionaire with a penchant for kink persona you’ve got going on here, but I’m not into that hurts-so-good scene, got it? And you try to lay a hand on me, you might not get it back.”
A small smile formed on his firm lips. “Is that so? You think you can take me out? Don’t forget I’m ex-military.”
“And don’t you forget I’ve been taking care of myself a long time. I’ve got a black belt in Krav Maga and I’m not afraid to use it. No one touches me without my permission.”
Heath pushed away from the wall, approaching her like a panther stalking his prey. “Is that so? Good to know. It’s been awhile. Maybe we’ll have to fight it out at the gym sometime. See who’s really got what it takes.”
“I can answer that for you right now,” Aileen said, her tone growing huskier and louder as her pounding pulse filled her ears. “That would be me. You might have more muscle, but I’m smaller and wily and that gives me the advantage. I’m warning you, mister. Don’t fuck with me.”
He stopped mere inches away, close enough that his heat and scent surrounded her—soap and musk and warm, clean male. Close enough that she could reach up and run her fingers along the stubble on his jaw and feel the soft bristle of it for herself. Close enough that if she leaned in slightly she could brush her lips over his and finally taste him.
“And I’m warning you,” he growled, his breath panting like hers, “don’t test me. You won’t like the results.”
With that he walked away, leaving her to stare after him, more hot and bothered and needy than she’d ever remembered being for another man in her life. All this over the last man on earth she should ever want—her brother’s best friend and the one person who could ruin everything she’d worked to achieve over the last few weeks.
With a sigh, Aileen headed for bed, shutting off the living room lights on the way, certain sleep would be hard to come by tonight despite her exhaustion.
4
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Heath said as Aileen stumbled into the brownstone’s kitchen, looking like death warmed over. He didn’t miss her flat glare or the fact she seemed to be staring at the empty coffee pot like she’d just lost her favorite puppy. “Don’t worry,” he said, taking pity on her at last. “The carafe over here is full.”
“I don’t do breakfast. Sorry,” she said, slumping down into the chair across from his at the table and grabbing the pot. “Guess I should’ve told you that before you made all this food.”
Heath snorted. “I didn’t make this, I ordered it. From the little diner down the block. Best brown-sugar bacon in town.” To prove his point, he took another large bite of it from the strips on his plate. “And all of this is actually mine. I might’ve been persuaded to share, but now that you’ve disparaged my favorite meal of the day, I don’t think I will.”
&nb
sp; Now, it was Aileen’s turn to snort. “I didn’t disparage breakfast, I just said I didn’t do it.”
“Same thing.” He downed several bites of fresh strawberries—out of season; being rich had its advantages—followed by a healthy mouthful of smoked salmon and cream cheese on an organic whole wheat bagel. “Why don’t you eat in the morning? You could stand to put on some weight.”
“Please. I’m healthy. I’m fine.” She shook her head and gulped her black coffee. “Why are you so concerned about my eating habits anyway? Don’t we have more important things to discuss today? Like how we’re going to nab Senator Lawrence. I called my office at the paper. They’re going to messenger over the work laptop from my desk today so I can continue researching remotely.”
He finished his bagel then wiped his mouth, sitting back to watch her closely, his inner analyst on high alert. A work computer would have all her links and information along with her passwords. If he could get that intel to Daveed, then they could hack into her research and find out for themselves what she’d uncovered. “What proof do you have of his dealings with EnKor?”