"I'll sleep in my car if I have to. I'm a cop, remember? I'm no stranger to a stake out."
When he finally looks at me, he looks tortured rather than pissed off like I'd expected. "You can't be here, Lisa."
His fingers drum against the wood as he resists admitting the inevitable: he's not getting rid of me.
"And yet." Spreading my arms wide, I smile. "Here I am."
He exhales through his nose, a sound caught between a growl and a sigh, and steps back from the doorway in defeat. It's not an invitation exactly, more a reluctant surrender, so I seize the opportunity before he can change his mind, ducking under his arm and into the room.
It's basic. The bathroom door hits the bed when you open it, and the TV is bolted to the dresser. His duffel is on the floor, clothes folded neatly on top, and the air smells like him. That woodsy scent I've been dreaming of for months.
"You can't stay." He closes the door but doesn't move from it, arms folded, filling the frame.
"You've said that already, but where else am I going to go? Not home, if that's what you're thinking. This is my case." Dropping my backpack on the only chair in the room, I turn toface him. "Or do you mean I should crash with your two friends next door?"
The look that crosses his face at that suggestion tells me everything I need to know about how that option sits with him.
"No," he growls. "That's not what I fucking mean, and you know it." He curses and takes a step toward me, sending my pulse racing. "One night." He holds up a finger.
I smile, victorious, then relaxing a little now that I know he's not going to bundle me back out the door, I allow my eyes to wander over his exquisite physique. We're standing mere feet apart, the atmosphere between us weighed down with everything that's happened, including his hand being under my dress last night.
Beau drags a pillow off the bed and tosses it onto the floor, then grabs the blanket from the foot of the mattress. "Take the bed."
Picking up his sad little pillow, I throw it back where it was. "We're a bit beyond that, don't you think?"
He retrieves it without looking at me, muscles in his tanned back rippling as he stoops, muttering something about me being sent here to test him. When he drops it back on the floor, I almost roll my eyes.
If anyone's patience is being tested right now, it's mine.
"Do I annoy you that much? You seemed to like me yesterday."
Then he straightens up and turns, and my gaze drops before my brain can intervene.
He's hard. Not fully, but enough that his shorts aren't hiding anything, and the rush of heat between my thighs is so sudden, my breathing stutters.
His nostrils flare, and a deep rumble starts to emanate from his chest. His eyes darken as they lock onto mine, and his whole frame goes rigid, every impressive muscle coiled tight.
"Just get in bed, Lisa." His voice is barely recognisable. "Please."
My feet remain rooted to the ground.
"Why won't you just listen to me?" Hands curled into fists, he takes a step toward me, mouth set in a firm line, his frustration written all over his rugged features. But intimidating as he is, with his sheer size, serious expression and his dominant demeanour, I don't feel even the slightest bit afraid.
In fact, he makes me feel brave.
"Why won't you let me do my job?" Hands on my hips, I glare at him, pretending to be mad, but as my chest rises and falls, breathing getting faster as he nears, his mere proximity is enough to send my libido haywire.
I force my eyes to stay above the waistband.
Do not look at the growing bulge in the front of his shorts.
Do not lick your lips.
"I'm trying to look out for you." He growls through gritted teeth, exasperated, his brown eyes boring into me. "These men are… and you're..." He clamps his jaw shut and drags a hand back through that messy dark hair.
"I'm what?" I press, my temper rising. "A girl? Weak?" I get into his face until we're chest to chest, practically touching. "No good at my job? If that's what you think, then go on and say it."
He moves so fast I don't register him until my back hits the wall and both of my wrists are pinned above my head. His body presses against mine, every hard inch of him, and his face is so close that his breath warms my lips.