“I have nothing to wear and I want to go out to dinner. Grab me a pair of your jeans or something and a T-shirt.”
There was a long silence where Knight’s strangled breathing filled the phone. He seemed a little tense.
“What’s the matter? Did you have a bad day?”
“You could say that.”
“So let’s make it a better night.” One or two, or a thousand different ways to do that popped into her head. All involving her and Knight naked.
“I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
Derek had startedto suspect he’d lost his head over Reese, now it was confirmed. She had gone behind his back, infiltrated Delco Pharmaceutical, potentially compromising his case, and yet he was standing in front of her hotel room holding a bundle of fresh clothes for her to wear.
Insane, that’s what he was.
He pounded on the door vehemently.
Reese opened it, standing in her pajamas. “Good, you brought the clothes! You’re so nice.”
Nice was not what he was feeling.
Handing the bundle over to her, he stepped into the room. “Why didn’t you just order yourself some clothes?”
“I’m not made of money, Knight.”
“I would have thought you would with your new job and all,” he said carefully.
“What?”
Trying not to yell, he said, “Would you care to explain to me what you were doing in Delco’s board meeting this afternoon?”
Reese halted in her tracks in front of the bathroom door. “You know that already? Geez, that was fast. How did you know?”
Derek’s blood pressure shot up. She sounded so nonchalant, he found himself saying in exasperation, “Your voice was a dead giveaway.”
Reese broke into a smile. “You’re recording the Delco meetings? That is so cool. Did you get anything good today? Because I didn’t hear anything good. They just run on at the mouth as far as I can tell.”
Well, he had walked right into that trap. Now Reese knew what they were doing in the investigation, something he had never intended to tell her.
“I can’t tell you, Reese.” There were only so many ways he could say that, and yet she persisted in trying to pump him for information.
She shucked her pajama pants and shook out the jeans he’d brought her. And despite how totally pissed he was at her running into this investigation headlong with New York attitude flying, his mouth went dry at the sight of her in her panties, long smooth legs touching distance from him.
“That’s why I had to take matters into my own hands. So I called Chatterton and he gave me a job. Now I can gather evidence for my story and for you. If Markson trips up, I can help out. I’m your insider now, Knight. Isn’t that great?”
If that was her idea of great, he’d hate to see bad.
His hand automatically went to his pocket for his antacids. But when he’d gone home, he’d changed into jeans and had left them in his suit jacket.
“Reese, honey, babe, that is not a good thing. You can’t be a reporter and my girlfriend and working for Chatterton, all while being aware that meetings are being recorded. There’s about half a dozen different ways that would be a conflict of interest and probably illegal.”
She paused while pulling his jeans onto her narrow hips. “I’m your girlfriend? Since when?”
That’s what she had pulled out of that whole explanation? “Since we started seeing each other every day, taking meals together, and sharing a bed. I think that would be called dating by most people’s standards. ”
Reese zipped the jeans, buttoned the button, and let go. They promptly slid back down to her hipbones, where they came to a saggy rest. “Give me your belt,” she said, holding out her hand.
Derek did as he was told, undoing his black leather belt and silently handing it to her.