“Sure, hon.” Luis said, picking up his drink and lifting it toward her, making the motion of a toast.
Maria smiled once again and tipped her head, and then turning on her heel, she began walking toward Garrett. When she reached his side, he put his hand on her elbow with a pissed, precise motion and began leading her out of the room.
Keeping his hand at the underside of her arm, he walked her to the bank of elevators. The car was already waiting, so they stepped inside and the doors slid closed with a silent whoosh. He pressed the number for the fourth floor, and then with a rapid, impatient movement, he maneuvered her against the wall.
Maria held her drink out to the side, attempting to keep the liquid in the glass from sloshing her skirt and blouse.
Garrett leaned both arms on either side of her head, enclosing her in his space. “What’d I tell you last night?”
Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. “I’m sorry?”
“Last night,” he said again, “What’d I tell you?”
“You told me a lot of things.” She took a quick breath, knowing good and well he was referring to Luis Calderon and the arm the man had wrapped around her a few moments before. “You told me to stay out of the stairwell.”
His eyes turned glacial. “I told you nobody touches you.”
She lifted her chin and clenched her jaw. “And I called bullshit on that, didn’t I?”
Just as a ferocious look crossed his face, the door pinged and the elevator slid to a halt on her floor. Garrett stepped back and held the door open, obviously expecting her to step out. Where the hell else was she supposed to go? She had no choice but to follow him out.
He grabbed hold of her arm again and began marching her toward her suite. The butterflies in her stomach expanded into a ribbon of need that began rocketing through her system, even though her brain was in a contest with her body. Why not? her girl parts wailed. Because he’s an arrogant ass, her brain replied.
As he all but frog-marched her down the corridor, she almost stumbled and he immediately gripped tighter. “How much have you had to drink?” he asked, pissed.
“Nothing.”
They’d arrived at her door, and he swung her back against it. “You’re drinking now. Are you telling me that one’s your first?”
“I’m telling you that this is Diet Coke.”
He looked more than skeptical; his expression said she was lying. “Bullshit.”
Fire lit her spine. “Smell it. Take a drink,” she challenged.
“Why’s it dressed up to look like a cocktail? And why’d you stumble?”
“I didn’t stumble.” Stumbling meant ending up face-first on the ground, right? She prayed her little trip-up hadn’t been nearly as ungraceful.
He growled as if out of patience with her answers. “Where’s your key-card?”
Seeing another couple leave their suite a few doors down and not wanting to continue standing there making a scene, Maria slipped her card from her pocket and slid it into her door. When she did it, a hard, dark hand reached around her and pushed the latch down and the door opened.
She gasped and tried to turn, not expecting that he’d try to get inside her room. She thought his intention earlier had only been to try to separate her from the men she was sitting with. She mumbled, “You can’t come in,” but it was already too late.
He propelled her forward into the suite with a firm hand at her back and then he stepped inside and turned and latched the door. As if in a daze, she stood still as he took the glass from her hand and put it to his nose. Looking her in the eye, he took a sip, obviously testing her, and then set the glass on the bureau next to the television.
Ignoring his lack of faith in her word, she swallowed and tried again, “I don’t want you in here, Garrett.”
“Don’t much care,” he bit out succinctly as he took a small white card from his back pocket and tossed it on the bureau next to the glass.
“What’s that?” she asked, glancing at what looked like a business card.
His eyes narrowed and he said through gritted teeth, “The name of a good attorney.”
Her heart skipped a beat and then began pounding so hard she could hear it in her eardrums. “An attorney?”
He took a step closer. “The best in the state. He specializes in sexual harassment. You’re going to need his services.”
Chapter Six
Holy. Shit. He was calling her bluff. A rush of white noise drowning out her thought process, her vocal chords seized up and she was unable to say a word. He tipped his chin up in a nod, as if he were confirming something that was registering in her head, and she took another step backward as he took another step forward.