Letting Loose!

Was she nuts to also feel like it was kind of cozy under the warmth of his arm?

Of course not. She wasn’t the cozy type any more than the hugging type. It must be the hangover.

“Please get up. This is getting embarrassing.”

“Just give me a second.” The voice sounded muffled but familiar.

Of course it was familiar—she’d just been intimate with the man. “I’ve given you more than a minute and I’m running out of patience.” There, she’d used her cutting courtroom voice. It should have him out of here in minutes. She hadn’t been christened The Shark for nothing.

The hand slid up her arm, intimately, seeking. It felt good, which angered her, so she reached over to push it away. Then she struggled out from under the dead weight until she came to the edge of the bed, where for some inexplicable reason, she hesitated.

She was naked.

She needed cover. The sheet and thin blanket were tangled around at least six feet of male flesh. The bedspread wasn’t an option, as it was probably gross from the hundreds of guests who stayed in this hotel. She had no robe, because she liked to be naked, and she was usually totally comfortable with her body. Yet she hesitated to get out of the bed.

Why? Why should this time be any different? Maybe it was the paid part of the situation that bothered her, since she’d never paid for sex before.

“Why should I have to get up when technically this is my bed bought and paid for?” she mused aloud.

“Because I seem to have thrown out my back.”

She looked over at him. With the mask gone and those incredible blue eyes blinking at her, there was no denying she’d seen that face before. “Tyler?” Her voice went shrill. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?”

Still lying on his stomach, he rubbed his hand over his beard-stubbled gorgeous face. “You hired me.”

“I did no such thing. I hired The Bandit.” She clung to the corner of the sheet as if it were a lifeline because her heart was sinking fast.

“You can negotiate for a refund, but I counted your orgasms last night, and I’m pretty sure you got your money’s worth.” He sounded so very smug.

“Get up. Get out. Just get.” Her voice rose with every get. Her heart was not sinking. She was just disappointed in Tyler for lying so spectacularly to her. And she was angry. Very angry, she told herself.

Okay, why wasn’t she furious?

“I can’t. I’ve thrown my back out.”

She scooted off the bed. It seemed safer to be naked and exposed than to be close to Tyler. “What exactly does that mean?” she asked scathingly.

“I’m having muscle spasms in my back, probably from our workout last night. I’ll be okay if you’ll soak a towel in hot water and lay it on my back. Eventually the muscles will loosen up, and I’ll be able to get up.”

“Our workout? It wasn’t even supposed to be you last night. And I will not soak a towel and put it on your back. I’m never touching you again. You…you, low-life probationer!”

“Okay, then just leave me. I’ll call down to the desk for some anti-inflammatory medication. I’ll request a later checkout, take a nap, and in a few hours I’ll be just fine.” He flexed his shoulders, and then with a grimace stopped trying to shift.

He looks like a fish floundering.

Offering him no sympathy, Tina looked around for her clothing. It was strewn around the room with an abandon that made her grind her teeth. “Technically, this is my hotel room.”

True, she hadn’t even brought in her overnight bag from the car—she’d barely had time to tuck her toothbrush into her purse because of some last-minute dinner glitch—but it was the principle of the thing.

“I’ll be happy to reimburse you the cost of the room,” he said so reasonably Tina just exploded.

“And what about the cost of our little interlude? What the hell did you think you were doing pretending to be a stripper?”

He started to shrug, and then tensed up again. The pain on his face stood out in stark relief, and for a moment she almost felt sorry for him.

“I’m not sure I knew what I was doing. All I could think about was that I didn’t want him to touch you. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any embarrassment. But hey, I saved you from a stripper. Who knows where the man’s been or whether he even intended to use a condom!”

“I brought plenty of condoms!”

“You were too far gone to tell if he even used one or not.”

“I was not. I was in control. In fact I remember every detail….” She trailed off. The blush started at her forehead and seemed to travel down her body. She did remember every detail, and it had been incredible. And it had been Tyler.

She swallowed hard.

Tyler, who strode into a courtroom with the careless elegance of a 1940s actor. Tyler, with dark blond hair still streaked from the cruise, since he wore it just a little longer than was absolutely professional. Tyler, with eyes so intensely blue they warmed like a summer sky, which had his witnesses, both male and female, stammering to please during their testimonies.

He simply had that effect on people.

And that body. He’d sculpted it even more since the last time they’d made love. Tyler was so perfect, he was scary.

Not scary.

She was never scared.

And she just didn’t do relationships, even with perfect men.

Perfect? What was she thinking? He was just like every other man in the world, telling lies to get what he wanted. She couldn’t trust him!

“How could you?” she raged. “After I told you that I didn’t want to see you again? I think I was rather explicit after you stayed at my place. What part of never again didn’t you understand?”

She took a breath and then it hit her. She even pointed a finger at him. “And you had your hand up Sheila’s skirt last night. If you ever touch me again, I’m going to fillet you!”

Did he smile? Had he dared to smile? She would teach him while she had him at her mercy. Her own smile felt feral.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just angry.” His eyes were earnest. “You haven’t even given us a chance.”

“We were together on the cruise.”

“That wasn’t reality. It was a singles’ cruise. We have a lot in common in real life.”

“And we had a few dates after that, but you’re a lawyer, how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t date lawyers!”

“More times.”

She wanted to stomp her foot or throw something at him. “How many more times?”

“A lot more times.”