didn’t mind his so much, but he hated seeing all that creamy skin of hers, skin he’d tasted now, all raw and ravaged. He was happy the little heathen’s attack skills would come in handy in her new life…and equally grateful the cat would never get a chance to mark up Kirby’s champagne-sweet skin again.
Skin he was thinking of sipping, much like the finest Perrier-Jouet, and was dipping his head to put thought to deed, when the phone rang again. It occurred to him as the muzziness of sleep cleared with the continued ringing that she was running a business here, so he reluctantly aborted his mission. “You need to get that?”
All he got in response was a grunt, which made him smile. There wasn’t much about her that didn’t make him smile, he realized. She rolled to a sitting position, her lovely naked back to him, her hair all sexy in a mussed-up, bed-head kind of way. The kind of way that made him want to pull her back down and roll her underneath him. He felt his body come to life at the thought, and his smile widened. So, maybe he wasn’t all that road weary after all. Or she was the elixir of life. Either way, things were looking up for him. Literally.
The phone continued to ring. “Yes,” she said at length, fighting a yawn. “I should. But the machine will pick up. I’ll screen it.”
“Do you have more than one line? I mean, a private one for you?”
“My cell is my private line, and I have the line here forwarded to that one if I am out or away. But that line, the ringing one, that’s for the inn.”
He could have pointed out that, given the dearth of guests at the moment, possibly she didn’t want to avoid taking the call. But if ignoring the phone meant he had her all to himself a little while longer? Well, he was all for that. Who was he to tell her how to run her business?
The phone cut off, mid-ring, and he thought the caller had hung up until he heard the echo of a voice—a man’s voice—coming from the room beyond. There was a door between this room and that one, partially opened now. He vaguely remembered seeing the other space that looked like an office before he’d kicked the door shut and dropped them to the bed. He hadn’t really been paying attention, as he’d had a naked woman wrapped around him at the time.
“—know who that is staying at your place?”
Brett’s attention was immediately yanked from Kirby and all the wonderful things he wanted to do to and with her, and directed to the disembodied voice coming from the next room. He felt his spirit sink, like his entire body kind of just caved in a little. He could have spoken up, said anything, and drowned the voice out. But it would only have delayed the inevitable. He’d hoped, thought, that being the only guest here and not having left the inn since checking in, that he’d keep his anonymity a while longer. Like, until he decided to leave. He’d been in Vegas for so long, where everyone knew who he was. The thrill of being unknown hadn’t worn off yet.
But he remained silent and watched as Kirby slowly turned enough so she could look at him.
“—Brett Hennessey. The Brett Hennessey. He’s like the Tiger Woods of poker. Guy’s won millions.” The man on the phone chuckled like he’d personally hit some kind of jackpot. “Hey, maybe you should get him to do some kind of commercial for you. Or at least autograph something to hang on your wall. Guests would love that kind of stuff. When you get guests, that is. Anyway, just letting you know you have nothing to worry about.” There was a pause, then, sounding highly amused with himself, the caller added, “As long as you don’t play five card stud with the guy.” On a final, self-satisfied chuckle, the call finally, mercifully, ended.
Brett held Kirby’s gaze and braced himself, even as he mentally began packing his bags and wondering where he’d head to next. Maybe Dan was right, and he should just head home.
But she merely lifted her eyebrows in question. He lifted a shoulder in response.
And, rather stunningly, she didn’t ask a single question. Well, she did ask one.
“You still thinking about taking that shower?”
He stared at her a second longer. As if he wasn’t entirely sure he was