Olly had watched her closely while the friendly hotel manager had been opening the door to her room. He’d found her rambling amusing…and adorable as hell. But what had struck him the hardest was the look in Scarlett’s eyes when she’d glanced at her watch and noticed the time.
I’m sure the person I was supposed to meet gave up and is long gone.
Pure, heart-wrenching disappointment. That’s what he’d seen shining back at him from her gorgeous green eyes. A lingering look of devastation, as if she’d just missed out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
A chance to scam him, perhaps? It was a definite possibility. Though, despite wracking his brain trying to come up with an angle that made sense, Olly had yet to uncover a motive for such an elaborate scheme.
It wasn’t like Rose had any money to speak of, nor did she own any high-value possessions. In fact, the only thing his missing friend really had to offer to anyone was her time and generous heart. And the Rose he knew and cared for didn’t give away either of those things away freely.
Which left him still wondering…
What is your angel, sexy Scarlett?
The image of how she’d looked at him while officially introducing herself flashed through his mind’s eye.
I’m Scarlett, by the way.
Pretty smile. Relaxed posture. Strong eye contact. All signs that pointed to someone being truthful. But Olly had been around the block enough times to know not every actor worth their salt could be found on the big screen.
The world was filled assholes who used their God-given talents to steal from others. Whether they targeted material things like money or other valuable possessions or pieces ofsomeone’s very soul, it didn’t matter. A thief was a thief was a thief.
Lucky for him—thanks to the kind of life Olly had found himself living—he’d gotten pretty damn good at determining which side of the fence the people he met stood on. As for the Hathaway woman, he’d need to spend a little more time with her before making that particular call.
Preferably with her dressed in something more than just a skimpy-ass hotel towel that barely covered her luscious, mouthwatering, distracting-as-hell curves.
Olly thought back to the strange stirring that had swirled deep inside him when she’d introduced herself to him. An unfamiliar warmth had spread throughout his chest, radiating from the exact place where his heart used to be.
If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think the long-forgotten organ was trying to come back to life. But that couldn’t be right. Not when he’d made the conscious decision to lock that part of himself away from everyone around him.
Everyone but Izzy and Rose, that is.
Rose.
Olly cleared his throat and shifted against the generously cushioned seat. Having chosen a quiet spot in the back corner of the hotel’s lounge area, he rested an ankle over one of his knees while keeping his eyes on the area’s entrance.
Rose was the one he should be focused on.Shewas the reason he was here. And she was the only woman he should be thinking about right now. But as a vision of auburn beauty appeared in the lounge’s arched entryway, Olly realized some things were easier said than done.
Damn.
A ribbed sweater the color of gold molded to her upper body as if it had been tailored specifically for her. Breasts that hadbeen previously hidden beneath the towel’s knotted terrycloth were magnificently showcased to him now.
The perky globes were damn near perfect in size and shape. Not huge, but enough to fill a man’s palms. He’d always said more than a handful was a waste, and hers, well…hers were like the little bear’s porridge.
Just right.
And they were just the beginning.
Scarlett’s natural curves were every red-blooded man’s wet dream come to life. Or maybe it was just him. Either way, her feminine form was everything he craved in a woman.
Tall. Luscious breasts. Narrow waist. Denim-covered hips he could picture himself grabbing onto as he slammed himself in and out of her hot, wet?—
Nope. Not going there. Not with this woman.
If he wanted sex, he could find it. He’d seen the way women looked at him now, and as much as he hated to admit it, Izzy had been right. The new haircut and new clothes had definitely turned a few heads on his way to and from Scarlett’s room.
But Olly had never been one to hop from one bed to the next. Sure, he participated in the occasional hook-up. But with his attention and focus having solely turned to finding Rose, even his here-and-there nights of casual—and safe—sex had become non-existent.
Scarlett spotted him and waved, that same friendly smile lighting her eyes as she began weaving her way around the other chairs and coffee tables scattered around the wide, open space. A small brown purse hung from one shoulder, and in her other hand was a fairly full manilla folder.