Not Quite Mine (Not Quite series) (19 page)

The elevator opened to a short hallway with rooms only on two sides. One suite took up the west end of the hotel, the other took the east.

Katelyn’s was number one.

Fitting.

The same key that let him on the elevator flashed a green light over the hotel door so he could enter Katelyn’s personal space without so much as a hello.

He opened the door and at the same time removed a small notebook from the inside pocket of his jacket.

Who makes the electronic keys?

Who has access to the codes to Katelyn’s suite?

He made a few more notes about housekeeping and room service. All of whom would be able to get up into the suite without detection.

Much like the hotel he’d first met Katelyn in, this one was packed full of opulence and the evidence of money. Big money.

Marble tile floors were a softer hue than the one in California, the decor feminine. There were fresh flowers in the vase by the door, which struck him as funny since Katelyn wasn’t expected to return to Houston anytime soon.

He flipped on a switch and the room lit up. The sun was setting in Houston and the lights of the city were twinkling on the horizon. Patrick lost himself in the view for a moment.

Did the mother of the child know what a privilege it would be to have her child grow up with enough money to afford this view in whatever city they lived? Did they know flowers would greet the baby every day?

Did that play into the decision to give up Savannah?

Patrick moved into the room and noticed a small light above his head turn red.

Motion detector.

Before continuing his perusal of Katelyn’s personal space, he opened the outside door once again and looked in the small corridor. Above the elevator, a motion detector turned red.

He scribbled more notes in his notebook.
Who was in charge of watching the detectors? When did they go off and alert the authorities?

Patrick removed his jacket, hung it on the back of a chair, and noted the time on his watch. He sat on the large white sofa and crossed a leg over his opposite knee before picking up a magazine. Any security worth their salt would be at the door in less than two…

Click!

Make that thirty seconds.

Patrick turned the page of the magazine and glanced up when two men wearing suits, but who certainly were armed, stepped into the room.

“Miss Morrison?” they called out.

“She’s not here,” Patrick told them.

One of the men moved into the doorway but kept his left hip toward the hall. The other had a hand on a radio.

“You would be who?” the large man in the doorway asked.

Patrick stood and moved slowly to the man, extending his hand. “Ben Sanderson. Katie told me I could crash here tonight. I had an unexpected layover. Damn airline lost my luggage.”

The security guard straightened and looked around the room. “She didn’t call ahead.”

“She said she’d try…but she was with friends…out. Well, you know Katie. Call her, she’ll vouch for me.” He removed the key from his pocket and waved it in the air. “She gave me her key. I’ll be back in LA with her next week.”

The guards exchanged a glance and proceeded to relax.

“We’ll check with Miss Morrison.”

“Suit yourself.” Patrick moved back into the room and picked up the phone. “Is the kitchen still open? Damn domestic flights don’t even serve peanuts anymore.”

If there was one thing Patrick had learned in all his years of being a PI, it was that when you acted as if you belonged, people seldom questioned if you did.

“Yeah, the kitchen’s still open.”

“Thank God. I’m starved.” Ben allowed the kitchen to patch through the line and proceeded to order the chef’s special. He glanced around the room, noticed a bar, and knew he could pour himself a drink.

The guards talked among themselves before they excused themselves, apologizing for their presence, and left. Patrick knew the guards would be back if Katie hadn’t dropped his name with someone in power at the hotel.

Patrick kicked off his shoes after they were gone in case the place held hidden cameras. Best to act like he’d just gotten off an airplane.

He poured himself two fingers of Crown Royal and brought the whiskey to his lips.

The TV provided background noise while he waited for room service to arrive.

Patrick noted the large cart in which the food arrived. One that could easily conceal an infant seat.

He scribbled a note.

He ate. Made himself at home.

Enjoyed the opulence of high-rise and high-dollar living.

Only after he’d forced himself from the room, under the guise of needing a cigarette and considering the home owner, he sauntered outside after dark and “accidently” got lost in the far reaches of the hotel.

There were plenty of his assignments that left him cold, hungry, and tired.

This wasn’t one of them.

I’m drunk.

OK…maybe not drunk in the truest sense, but tipsy beyond anything Katelyn had been in the past several months.

Many of the employees had stuck around long past five. They cranked up the music and kept drinking until the caterers had left and Dean pulled the plug. He called a series of cabs that arrived to take his more inebriated employees home.

Such a thoughtful boss.

Katie couldn’t bring herself to stand, let alone even consider driving home. And this was the one night a week that she spent at the hotel…alone.

“Ready to go, darlin’?” Dean walked around the massive room turning off the work lights. Most of the mess had been cleaned up
and what wasn’t would be picked up by the early morning workers over the weekend.

“I think you should call me a cab, too, Dean. I haven’t drank that much since the wedding.” The wedding that changed her life in the most unexpected way.

“Jack would have my ass if I poured you into a cab. Give me a minute and I’ll lock up the office before I see you home.”

Dean walked from the room with all his Texan swagger and Katie had to close her eyes to help her focus. She hadn’t drunk that much but, on the legs of a lack of sleep, the alcohol must have shot straight to her head.

She rested her eyes for a few seconds and waited for Dean to return.

“Wake up, darlin’. Don’t want the staff to think I’m a schmuck taking advantage of the queen bee around here.”

Katie woke with a start. She was in Dean’s truck with a seat belt over her lap. The bright lights of the hotel parking lot illuminated the truck and made her blink. “How did I get here?”

“You were out. I managed to get you in here without waking you.”

“Oh, my word.” She shook the fog from her brain and glanced at the clock. At least an hour had passed. “Look what time it is.”

“Like I said, you were gone. I thought about taking you to my place but I didn’t want to scare you off.”

She rubbed a hand over her face, completely ignoring her makeup. “What makes you think I’d scare that easily?”

Dean fixed her with a stare. “You pass out at work and wake up in my bed…you don’t think that would cause you to freak?”

Well when he put it that way.

“I—I trust you.”

He shook his head before getting out of the truck. “That makes one of us.”

A grin settled over her lips and warmth spread throughout her body as he walked around the front of the truck before opening her door.

“Steady enough to walk?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She’d been more tired than drunk. Sure her head still swam a little, but there wasn’t a dense fog over her eyes shading her vision.

His arm snaked around her waist even though she didn’t need it. Part of her wanted to push him away, but the other part…the woman who enjoyed the deep heat of his hand resting on her hip and the masculine scent of his skin as it reached her nose…that part wanted to snuggle up and enjoy the cocoon of his arms.

Huddled close, they walked to the lit drive of the hotel. A valet opened the door for them as they walked through and addressed Katie by name.

“Good evening, Miss Morrison,” the receptionist said as they walked by. “Did you want your messages?”

She waved the woman off. “In the morning.”

“Yes, Miss Morrison. Have a nice evening.”

Dean walked her through the lobby and to the bank of elevators. “Do you have your key?” he asked as his fingers skimmed over her arms. Shivers ran down her skin despite the warm temperature of the California summer evening.

She dug into her purse and removed the elevator key. They stepped inside, alone, and she waved the card over the lock. The key accessed the penthouse level and bypassed anyone going up along the way. It was a small measure of security she had living in a hotel with often hundreds of strangers.

They arrived on the top floor without saying anything to each other.

It wasn’t until they were inside her hotel room that she managed to say, “I don’t even feel tipsy anymore. You don’t have to keep holding me up.”

Dean didn’t let go.

She didn’t wiggle out of his arms.

He did, however, remove her purse from her fingers and toss the bag on a nearby table.

“Not tipsy?” he asked.

“No. Tired, but not drunk.”

He let a grin spread on his lips and he returned his hand to her arm. They were face to face, and his body heat warmed her skin.

“Good. I don’t want you thinking I’ve taken advantage of you.”

She narrowed her eyes and stared at his lips. Lips she’d kissed more times than she could possibly count. “Taken advantage of what?”

“Of this.”

Those perfect lips slid over hers and the room around them disappeared.

Dean held her in his arms and kissed her so completely, hours could have slid by. He’d stared at her lips all night wanting a taste. Katie may have told him she wasn’t ready to see him romantically again, but she hadn’t stopped watching him. In fact, since Jack had returned to Texas, Katie managed to set his blood on fire almost hourly with the nibbling on her lips as she watched him working…or the hunger in her gaze when he roamed the job site with her in tow.

Katie might have said she wasn’t ready, but her body screamed for him to risk kissing her again.

She released a tiny hum, one he vividly remembered from their past as she tilted her head back and opened to him.

Dean held her tight enough to tell her he wanted her, but loose enough so she could escape if she truly wanted to.

Please don’t want to.

Her breasts pushed up against his chest and her arms circled the back of his neck. He smiled under her kiss and followed the lovely curve of her hip with his hand. Katie lifted her leg into his touch. The heat of her center made direct contact with his growing erection and he moaned.

She nipped at his lips and broke their kiss. “This is such a bad idea.” Her breathless words would have alarmed him if Katie’s soft fingers weren’t tugging at his shirt.

Dean kissed her neck and the sensitive lobe of her ear.

“God that feels good.”

“We always feel good together,” he reminded her. He’d never forgotten the feel of her body over his, the taste of her skin. The globe of her butt met his palm and he brought her closer. Her hips buckled along with her knees.

She wanted him; there was no doubt in Dean’s mind. But he was a Southern gentleman and he’d never seduce an unwilling woman. As much as it would kill him walking away now, he’d force himself to.

Lifting his lips from her neck, he waited until her hooded gaze met his. Soft, warm desire spoke to him in silence.

“I want to hold you, make slow sweet love to you until your body is draped over mine like silk, and both of us are too weak to open our eyes.” His words were delivered in a hoarse whisper.

The pulse in her throat moved faster as she swallowed with his words.

He lifted a hand to her cheek and stroked her swollen lips with his thumb. “If you’re going to ask that I leave, have mercy, and do it now.”

Katie drowned in the depth of his gray eyes. He had the perfect amount of Southern drawl lacing his words. She’d never forgotten how in sync they were together, how well they fit. The image of them naked and rolling around on satin sheets was intoxicating. The sad truth was she’d not so much as kissed a man since she and Dean had broken apart. It wasn’t that she’d closed herself off from men, she simply didn’t feel a big enough spark to dive into that pool again.