Addison Fox - The Manhattan Encounter

“I enjoy games as a diversion. They let me relax and allow whatever problem I’m working on to float to the back of my subconscious for a while.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

The ready acceptance before he shifted his attention toward their driver, directing the man toward the turn-off for her hotel, gave her the few moments she needed to collect her thoughts.

For years, she’d heard so many things about Alexander Steele’s grandchildren through her grandfather that Isabella realized she’d begun to think of them in near-mythic proportions.

But maybe they were just regular people.

She’d almost convinced herself until Liam turned toward her, those blue eyes blazing once more. “You coming?”

“Of...of course.” She hated the stammer but quickly slid across the seat. The rain had died down to a gentle mist and it coated her immediately, a cooling balm to her heated skin.

She followed him toward the revolving doors of the hotel and nearly stumbled into him when he stopped to gesture her ahead. “Steady, Isabella.” His hand snaked out and steadied her, holding her still for a moment.

“I’m fine.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

Again, she fought the tug of those deep blue eyes and wondered how he did it. Liam Steele was just a man, nothing more. Yet he somehow managed to make her forget herself.

Made her wish for things she couldn’t have.

With that thought foremost in her mind, she stepped through the revolving door, using the few precious seconds as she walked through to center herself. He didn’t need to see her to her room. He hadn’t needed to even see her this far.

“Thanks for seeing me back. I’ll be fine the rest of the way.”

“Orders are orders. You’re under my watch now and I’ll see you upstairs.”

“It’s not necessary.”

His large hand settled at the base of her spine as he guided her toward the elevators. “If you won’t humor me, please humor my grandfather. I’d hate to have to call him and tell him you’re being uncooperative.”

“I’m no such thing!” She lowered her voice, the ricochet of her protest still echoing off the mirrored walls of their elevator car. “I’m just trying to save you a trip. I’m perfectly fine. This is a nice hotel and I left the Do Not Disturb sign up.”

That sly smile curved his firm lips and she couldn’t stop the sensation—yet again—of feeling as off-kilter as a brand new colt. “Then I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. This is simply a routine check so my mind can be at ease.”

“You’re not funny.”

He tilted his head as the elevator pinged for their floor. “And you are. Sweetly so. I didn’t expect that.”

“I’m—” She broke off as a couple greeted them from the other side of the doors. She could argue with Liam Steele later. Or, Isabella knew, not at all now that she had time to reconsider her actions.

The man had the upper hand, that’s all there was to it. If she was going to retain any sense of sanity she’d do well to accept that and go along for the ride.

Her room was a short distance from the elevator and she had her key out, the lock turning green in mere seconds. It was only when she pushed through the door, intent on saying goodbye to Liam as quickly as possible that she stopped, a cold wash of awareness slithering across her skin.

“What is it?” Liam flipped on the light.

She glanced around the room, the soft light doing nothing to assuage her panic. Instead, she only felt it ratchet up another notch as she carefully ticked off the various quadrants of the room.

Bed. Dresser. End table.

All appeared to be in order, nothing out of place.

But even as her vision filled with the signs that nothing had been disturbed, she knew better.

“Someone’s been here. Inside my room.”

Chapter 3

“Here?”

Liam reached for Isabella, pulling her toward him as the blood drained from her face, leaving nothing but a milky white pallor over her skin. A subtle shake gripped her, the vibration of her body evident even through her layers of clothing.

Although he didn’t doubt her, the small room was empty now, the limited space leaving nowhere to hide. Whoever had been here was long gone. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Liam pulled her forward toward one of the two double beds and settled her on the thick duvet. “Sit here. I’m going to do a quick sweep.”

He crossed to the entry of the bathroom, the small cubicle obviously empty, but he flipped on the lights all the same and checked behind the shower curtain. “All clear.”

The words were clearly of little solace as he caught sight of her huddled form when he stepped back into the room. Her eyes were bright orbs of green that took up almost half her face and that ghostly pallor still tinged her cheeks. “No one’s here.”

“They were here.”

Liam fought the protest that sprang to his lips and searched the room himself. The neat, military smoothness of the covers appeared undisturbed. A small stack of leather-bound folios sat on the desk, perpendicular to the edge and layered one on top of the other with neat efficiency. Even the TV remote edged the end table with a precise lay-down against the lamp. Nothing looked disturbed.

“Why do you think someone was here?”

“I know it.”

“Housekeeping.”

She shook her head. “No. They’d already come and gone before I left for your grandparents.”

“I’m sorry but I need a bit more. What set you off?”

He sat down next to Isabella, trying to make sense of her reaction. The woman appeared stable—and his grandfather’s endorsement of the same went a long way toward keeping Liam from second-guessing her—but the room looked as if no one had touched it since housekeeping. Was she imagining the threat against her?

“The curtains are off.”

“Where?” He crossed to the hanging drapes, the city visible through a veil of rain outside the window. He saw the London Eye in the distance, the lights of its bright wheel like diamonds in the wet mist, and wondered what Isabella could possibly be seeing.

“There. Where the edge hangs open. It was flush against my suitcase when I left.”

Liam didn’t touch the curtain, instead taking in her description. “And before?”

She got off the bed, her pallor fading as she took stock of her surroundings. She pointed toward her small black suitcase before brushing her fingers over the handle. “When I left, I settled my luggage against the wall, the edge lined up to the curtain. Look at it now. The drape hangs over the edge of my bag.”

Liam crouched down, and saw how the curtain hung over the edge of her small suitcase. “You’re sure?”

“Of course.” A small sigh drifted from her lips before she crouched down next to him, her fingers brushing the edge of the curtain. “I’m precise that way. I like things to line up. I know how I left it and that’s not how it is now.”

“Anything else?”

She got back to her feet and pointed toward the top of the suitcase. “The zippers aren’t lined up. I always put them in the center. Those are off. I’m—”

“You’re what.”

“I like order. It’s silly, I know, but they’re small things that comfort me.”

He knew about order. And the desperate need for it that formed from the midst of chaos. Her light scent filled his nose once more, that subtle blend of roses wafting from her skin, and Liam tried desperately to keep his wits about him.

Roses were for women his grandmother’s age. Women who perfumed themselves in tepid fragrances that were safe and watered down.

So why did the scent seem exotic and highly erotic as it drifted from her heated skin?

Liam ignored that subtle tug of attraction and got to his feet, pulling out his phone. His brother’s voice filled his ear a few moments later. “Twice in one night. First Kenzi and now me. What’s going on, O Silent One?”