And ignited her.
Her hands rose. Curled around his shoulders. She should push him back. She should do something, anything but—
Pull him closer.
Kiss him back.
Fear and shame knotted within her, fighting with a tide of hot desire that caught her by surprise.
Noah’s hands were on her hips. Holding her so tightly and he was—
Pushing her into the elevator. Still kissing her, but guiding her movements.
She heard the elevator ding, and Claire pulled away from Noah. For a moment, she stared up at him, lost.
“Will that be all, sir?” The question came from the man standing near the elevator doors. He had his hand up and was holding the elevator open. Chuck Collins. Claire had met the hotel manager earlier. As she stared at him, Chuck cleared his throat and asked again, “Will that be all?”
Noah glanced over at him. “Not quite.” His words were low and lethal. “That ass**le never comes into the hotel again.”
Chuck nodded. “Understood.” Then he dropped his hand and the elevator doors slid closed.
Claire was still in Noah’s arms. Still shocked and lost and aching in a way she shouldn’t be.
“You can…you can let me go,” Claire managed to say.
Noah shook his head. His eyes were on her mouth. “I knew one taste wouldn’t be enough.”
It wasn’t enough for her, either. Noah tasted good. Very good. Good like the kind of wine Claire had when she saved her money and splurged. Not that she’d done any splurging, not in the last year. Like the wine, he also made her a little drunk.
“Ask me to kiss you again, Claire.”
He wanted to keep kissing her? After what had just happened in that lobby?
“Let me go.” She pushed against his chest. The elevator was rising, and she didn’t even remember Noah hitting the button on the control panel. But she knew where they were headed.
The top floor, of course. What she was thinking of as his floor.
The faint lines around his eyes deepened, but Noah let her go.
Claire rubbed her arms, chilled without him. “He shouldn’t have been here. I’m so sorry—”
“Apologize again, and I swear, Claire, you’ll push me too far.”
Her breath caught.
He nodded. “Good. Here’s the deal. Colby Harrison is your past, got it? He doesn’t matter. What he says…doesn’t matter.”
“But all of those people…they saw. They heard.” They’d all been staring at her. When she’d lived in Alabama, she hadn’t even been able to walk down the aisle at the grocery store without people stopping to stare and whisper.
Did you hear…that’s the girl…she seduced that poor boy…made him crazy…
Got him to kill her folks…
Claire shook her head as she tried to make those voices vanish. They’d haunted her for too long.
“I don’t care about those people.”
“It’s your business. Your hotel. You should care.” She’d been so worried about doing something to tarnish his image. And now…
“Scandal sells, baby, or haven’t you realized that?”
Claire flinched. She hated scandal. She wanted…secrecy.
The elevator doors opened.
“So much for dinner,” she muttered.
He caught her hand. Brushed his fingers over the ribbon on her right wrist. She’d learned to be creative over the years. When people saw the scars there, well, there was no mistaking them. You got scars on your wrist-those long, thin scars—from one act.
Claire had wanted to die when she was sixteen. When she stood at her parents’ graves, when it seemed that the whole world hated her, she’d wanted to escape.
To be with my mom and dad again.
People had spray painted her home. Written words like “whore” and “killer” on her windows. Senator Harrison had done a massive job on the local media. He’d worked so hard to convince everyone that his son was just the poor, misled boy.
And Claire was the evil seductress.
He’d told her, time and again, that she should be the one to suffer. The one to be punished.
I just wanted to escape.
The scars would always be there. She covered them so she didn’t have to see the curiosity, the pity, in the eyes of strangers.
“Come back to me.”
Claire blinked and focused on Noah.
He had lifted a dark eyebrow. “I told you, the past is over.” Anger pumped in his words. He pulled her toward his room. Not just a room. A suite. One as big as the place he had in New York.
He opened the door. Kept his hold on her and pulled her over the threshold. When the door closed behind them, Claire exhaled slowly as relief hit her.
Safe.
“He’s the reason, isn’t he?” Noah asked her. “The reason you lose your other jobs. The reason you move around the country so much.”
Claire nodded. Her gaze was on the D.C. skyline. She’d wanted to walk through the city at night.
But Harrison is out there.
“He…I think he hires someone, a detective maybe, to watch me. Each time when I feel like I might have a life, Colby Harrison comes in. Reveals my past. Gets me fired.” An endless cycle.
“He won’t be a problem any longer.” Noah’s voice was grim.
Claire glanced over her shoulder at him.
“He’s done, Claire. Done. He won’t ever get near you again.” He yanked a hand through his hair. “Nine years? Jesus, you put up with this for nine years? Why didn’t you get a restraining order against him? Why didn’t you—”
“He’s never physically hurt me.” There were so many other ways to hurt. Like when she’d been nineteen and her grandfather had been struck down by a heart attack. She’d flown back home to bury him. And at the funeral, Colby Harrison had been there…telling everyone that the whore was back in town.
“Never again,” Noah vowed.
She wished it could be that simple. “Noah, he’s not going to stop. Not until I’m dead or-or he is.”
Noah held her gaze. Nodded. “He’s done,” he said again, simply.
A chill skated over Claire’s spine.
His stare drifted over her face. Down her body. Lingered on her legs. “I was supposed to wine and dine you tonight.”
She’d never been wined and dined.
His golden eyes lifted. Locked on her mouth. “I knew one taste would do it for me. Claire, sweet Claire, you taste like candy.”
She could still taste him.