“Thank you,” Claire softly said.
“You don’t need to thank me, baby. If I’d realized that SOB was in the city, hell, I never would’ve let him get within thirty feet of you.”
What had brought the man back to D.C.? She’d thought Colby stayed close to his place in Alabama these days.
“Get some sleep,” Noah told her from his position near the bedroom door. “I’ll be back soon.”
She climbed from the bed. The lush carpeting swallowed the sound of her steps as she went to him in the darkness.
“Claire?”
Her hand lifted. Pressed to his chest. She would’ve liked to see him naked. His shoulders were so wide. So built. He probably had a six pack.
She swallowed. “Thank you,” she said again, and she rose onto her toes. Her lips skimmed the hard line of his jaw.
But then his fingers sank into her hair. He tilted her head back. Took her mouth. Kissed her long and deep.
Her ni**les tightened as they pressed into his chest.
“If you really want to thank me,” Noah rasped when his head lifted, “you’ll stay in that bed and be ready for me when I come back.” He let her go. “I will be back soon, Claire.”
She believed him.
She stood there, in the darkness, and a few moments later, she heard the sound of the suite’s main door closing.
Her body was so sensitive. He’d touched her—everywhere. Claimed her. Marked her.
Taught her about pleasure.
Claire knew she wouldn’t have much time, so she dressed quickly. She yanked her hands through her hair. Rushed to the smaller room she’d been given when they checked in.
She grabbed her bag. Wrote him a note. Because she suspected that he would look for her, and she didn’t want Noah to worry.
She also didn’t want to throw her troubles onto his doorstep. He’d been too good to her. He didn’t deserve to be yanked down into her hell.
Her note was simple. Short.
Then Claire rode the elevator down to the lobby. Even at midnight, there were still plenty of people milling around the hotel. She didn’t see Noah or Chuck, so she dashed across the lobby and hurried outside.
She paused to talk with the bellman, just for a moment. When he offered to get her a taxi, Claire refused. Why waste the money? Claire turned away and marched down the sidewalk.
And she didn’t look back.
***
A hard knock pounded against the hotel room door.
Colby Harrison jerked at the sound. Who the hell would be coming to see him at this hour?
Muttering, he climbed from the bed. He’d just gotten to sleep a few moments ago.
He shuffled toward the door.
The knocking came again. Harder. Almost…desperate.
Colby weaved a bit as he reached out for the knob. He’d been drinking. The drinks helped him. They always did. Without them, he couldn’t sleep at all.
When he tried to sleep, he thought about Ethan. Poor Ethan. Wasting away in that prison.
He squinted as he tried to see through the peephole on the door. He couldn’t see a damn thing.
A rough knock had the door shaking.
Furious now, Colby jerked open the door. “What the hell do you—”
His visitor’s hand flew away from the door. Had that hand been over the peephole?
Colby frowned. “I sure as hell didn’t expect to see you here—”
A gun was shoved into his face.
Terror flooded through Colby as he stumbled back. “Y-you can’t do this!”
Laughter. Then… “I can do anything.” The door was kicked shut. They were sealed together in that room.
The gun’s barrel was too long. A silencer. Colby licked his bone-dry lips. Tried to think. “I didn’t mean—”
The bullet blasted through his head before he could finish.
“I know exactly what you meant.”
Colby’s knees hit the floor.
“At least I didn’t make you beg.”
Colby slammed face first into the carpet.
Chapter Four
“Claire?” Noah opened the suite’s door, frowning as he called her name. He’d been gone longer than he’d planned, but there hadn’t been any help for that delay.
He’d had to be careful and not rush his return to her.
“Claire?”
She didn’t answer him. Noah figured Claire was probably asleep. He strode into the bedroom, but the bed was empty. The covers had been carefully arranged, re-made, and Claire was gone.
No.
He spun on his heel and nearly ran from that suite. When they’d checked in, Claire had been given a separate room, and he was in front of that room moments later. He had a key, and he opened the door, not bothering with a knock. He was too pissed for a knock. The woman didn’t get to just run out of his bed in the middle of the night.
Her room was smaller than his, and in an instant, he knew she wasn’t there. The bed hadn’t been touched. Her bag was gone.
Hell, no.
The woman wasn’t about to pull one of her disappearing acts on him. Not when he could still taste her on his tongue.
Not when I want more.
Then he saw the note. Folded, right in the middle of her pillow.
He scooped it up and instantly recognized the hotel stationary. He should, he’d picked that shit out.
A flowing, feminine handwriting told him…
Thank you, Noah. You taught me more about pleasure than I ever expected.
And she’d made him hungry for more.
Noah balled up the note and shoved it into his pocket. We’re not finished yet, Claire.
Three minutes later, he was storming outside of the hotel. He turned to the bellman. He knew the guy—Blayne—had started at the hotel just a few months back. “Claire Kramer.”
Blayne swallowed nervously and straightened his suit.
“Blonde hair, five foot ten. Slender. She would have left here alone, probably within the last two hours.”
The bellman nodded. “I saw her. She was in a big hurry. Only stopped to talk with me for a few moments.”
“Which taxi company did she use?” Because he could call them. Track her down.
“She didn’t use a taxi, sir. I offered to get her one but…” Blayne pointed down the street. “She just started walking that way.”
Noah glared down that street.
It’s not that easy, Claire.
He started walking.
***
Vincent Finch stared down at the senator’s body. He’d called the cops less than fifteen minutes ago, and they were already on the scene and trying to push him out of the room.
“You found him just like this?” The detective asked. The detective was a woman, barely five feet tall, with coffee cream skin. Her partner was a blond male, and the guy towered behind her.