The Wedding Trap (Second Service #1)(13)
Author: Adrienne Bell

Woohoo. That’s what she’d been hoping for. Not that briefs would have been bad. There were very few games in life where everyone ended up a winner.

"What are you doing up?" she asked, stepping inside.

"I was about to ask you the same thing.”

"I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go downstairs and get a coffee. I thought that you might like one too." She handed him the cup. "I didn’t know what you liked, so I guessed."

He pulled off the lid and peered inside. "Black coffee. You guessed right."

"You seem the type. There’s a muffin in the bag if you want it."

He reached in and pulled out the oversized blueberry muffin.

"Thanks.”

Beth went over to the window and pulled back the drapes. The sky had just begun to lighten. A purplish glow bathed the concrete city across the bay. Beth curled up on the windowsill. At least there were benefits for being up so early.

"I thought you’d still be asleep when I got back," she said.

He moved to the opposite corner of the window and leaned his hip against it. "I heard you leave."

"Sorry about that. I tried to be quiet."

"I’m a light sleeper." He broke off a chunk of muffin and offered it to her.

Beth shook her head. "I had a banana in the cafe."

He looked at her for a long moment. "You didn’t eat much at dinner last night."

Beth looked out at the view and away from his gaze. "Yeah, well, I have a bridesmaid dress to fit into on Sunday."

"You’ll look great," he said, taking another sip of coffee.

The compliment, even as off-hand as it was, made her blush.

"Thanks.”

He finished the muffin in three bites, and downed the coffee just as fast. There was a casual efficiency to every move he made that was almost hypnotic. He fascinated her, she realized. She liked watching him do even the most mundane things.

But it wasn’t necessarily the best idea to spend too much time getting to know him. She might not know who he was, but she knew who he wasn’t. He wasn’t really Charlie Parker, the music executive who lived in a luxury penthouse in Nob Hill. He was some nameless car thief who was up to God only knew what.

Which meant that if she was any kind of smart, she’d get all her looking in now. She didn’t have any plans to jump in bed with him, no matter what Isobel said. But looking? That was another matter entirely.

"I’m going to take a shower," he said, pushing away from the wall. He crumpled the pastry bag and shot it into the waste basket on the far side of the room.

Good shot. Great one, actually. Beth clapped, and he flashed her the kind of smile that had her holding onto the windowsill for support.

She tried to talk herself out of watching him as he walked across the room, but it was no use. Halfway to the bathroom, he started to lift his shirt. Her eyes fixed on him as he pulled it over his head, revealing a back that was ripped with muscle. Beth couldn’t turn away. She couldn’t even close her mouth. Her hand dropped limply to her side.

Please turn around. Please turn around.

She repeated the prayer over and over in her mind. She didn’t even care if he caught her gawking.

All right, maybe she would mind a little.

But as it turned out, she didn’t have to worry about it. He walked straight into the bathroom without looking back. A moment later she heard the water turn on.

She took another sip of her hazelnut latte. Damn, what she would do to be in there with him. Hey, she needed to shower too, right?

What would he do if she walked in there, stripped out of her clothes and joined him?

Beth laughed. Yeah, right. Like she’d ever have the nerve to do something like that.

She’d be better served by getting ready for her day. She went to the wardrobe and picked out a blouse and skirt. She’d have to shave her legs, and then make it downstairs before everyone else had breakfast. She was meeting up with the rest of the bridesmaids to get their nails done. After that, she’d promised Isobel that she would walk the four blocks to the florist and check on the order for the ceremony.

There wouldn’t be time for that long soak in the magnificent tub today. Maybe tonight. This morning she’d have to settle for a quick shower.

Alone.

Beth paused as she was pulling out the pink silk shirt she planned to wear today. All the clothes in the wardrobe were hers. She looked around the room. She didn’t see anything that belonged to Charlie. No bags. No suitcases.

She shouldn’t pry. She knew she shouldn’t. Remember what happened to that curious cat, she reminded herself.

She looked at the bathroom door. It was still shut tight. The water was still running.

One little look around wouldn’t hurt anything. What if he was hiding something dangerous in their room? A bomb or something? She had every right to know about that, she figured.

The only other door was the one to the closet.

Just one look.

She rushed over to the door and slid it open. Just a crack. The suit he’d been wearing yesterday hung on the rack. There were two more, just as fine, next to it. There was also a duffle bag on the floor. That was it. Nothing that pointed to who her Charlie really was. But at least she hadn’t found anything dangerous.

Not unless it was in the duffle bag.

She stared at it. It was a plain-looking thing, military green and made out of a thick, well-worn fabric. It had seen some use. Years of it, given the wear around the edges. It was also incredibly out of place next to the Italian suits.

If there was anything real about her Charlie in this hotel room, it was in there.

It was closed up tight, except for one zipper that was undone on the far side.

Beth leaned forward, then stopped herself. She couldn’t. It wasn’t right. She’d flip out if she caught him going through her personal stuff.

But wasn’t that essentially what he had done by moving her to this room? Someone had to move her things from the first room to here. Someone had to hang her clothes in the wardrobe. He’d arranged all that without asking. If she’d had any secrets, they would have been discovered.

She still couldn’t bring herself to do it. Brazenly spying on him just wasn’t her style. But if by some accident she happened to sneak a little peek inside, well, that was different.

She let the empty coffee cup in her hand fall to the floor next to the bag.

"Oops," she said. She bent down, peering into the unzipped compartment. A glint of metal caught the light from the fixture above her.

Beth jetted backward, her paper cup forgotten. Her breath was heavy and fast. She struggled to control it.

She didn’t need a closer look to know what was hiding inside the pocket of the duffle bag. She recognized the barrel of a gun when she saw one.