steel lurked somewhere deep inside. There was certainly no question he had some level of authority over Hard-Ass. She hoped he was about to use it to her advantage.
“Now, be a good boy and unlock those handcuffs before she calls her lawyer.”
“She’s already threatened to do that.”
She watched as a grimace crossed his face. “I’m sure there’s no reason for that. I apologize for Zane’s behavior. He’s ex-CIA.”
He made the statement as if it explained absolutely everything there was to know about the other man. And dragging her gaze back over to him, she thought it just might.
Hard-Ass’s…no, Zane’s jaw tightened even more as he pulled a key from his pocket. His eyes stared down at it as if he wished for the ability to bend it and render it useless so he’d have a legitimate reason to keep her here against orders.
With heavy, reluctant steps, he walked behind her. Even though she couldn’t see him, she knew that he towered above her. His long shadow dropped over the table, the curve of his head obscuring the single light from above.
His fingers wrapped around her elbow, smoothing down the inside curve of her arm until they slipped over the sensitive sweep of her wrist. A shiver of unwanted awareness spiked up her arm and into her body. She sucked in a breath at the unexpected reaction to the contact.
She was so unnerved that it took her several seconds to register her freedom when the tension that had bound her wrists together finally disappeared. Elle shot from the chair, almost knocking over the table in her haste to get away from his intimidating presence behind her. She spun to face both of the men.
The contrast between them was astonishing. One had sun-kissed cheeks and a genuine smile, the other’s face was tight with a frown of disapproval.
“There. That’s better. Ms. Monroe, my manager has arranged for you to be upgraded to a suite. Your luggage will be moved shortly. If you need anything else during your stay, be sure to let Marcy know. Zane, behave.”
Pushing up from his permanent perch at the door, the man offered his hand, which she reflexively took. He was gone before she realized she had no idea who he actually was.
Turning to the scowling man, she asked, “Who was that?”
“Your guardian angel apparently.”
With the open door and the promise of no retribution for her stunt, Elle was feeling a bit cocky…cocky enough to do something she probably shouldn’t have.
Turning her focus fully to the man left behind, she said, “My guess is he definitely has a higher security clearance than you.”
Zane’s jaw tightened and he took a menacing step toward her. Her bravado disappeared rather quickly when he entered her personal space. The cells in her body seemed to react, standing at attention simply because he was nearer to her. It was galling.
His huge hand wrapped around her arm once again, pulling her close enough to his body that she could feel the heat of him radiating into her own skin. His scent, dark, spicy and all male, filled her lungs despite the fact that she tried not to breathe.
“I am the highest security clearance in this place.” His head dipped down toward hers and her lips parted automatically. His mouth brushed against the sensitive outer shell of her ear as he whispered, “And I’m going to be watching you. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I’m going to be watching.”
A shiver of awareness, anger and anticipation racked her body even as she jerked her arm from his grasp. He easily let her go.
Elle schooled her features and looked up into his face. “Then it’s going to be a boring week for you.”
“For your sake, I hope so.”
2
ZANE WATCHED AS THE WOMAN walked away. The taunting swing of her hips and the way she tossed her red hair behind her as she threw a knowing half smile over her shoulder made his fists clench.
He stomped down the hall after her. Not to bring her back, but to give Simon a piece of his mind. He was pissed, and someone was going to get the brunt of his anger.
His knock on the suite door was perfunctory to say the least. He didn’t bother waiting for Simon to acknowledge him before he pushed into the other man’s domain.
The living area before him was immaculate, not a single thing out of place. Of course, that had absolutely nothing to do with Simon and everything to do with his efficient director. He and Simon had shared an apartment during college, so he had firsthand knowledge of the man’s messy gene. Not that he’d cared much back then. They’d both focused on women, partying and studying, in that order. There’d been little energy left over for domestic things such as scrubbing toilets or washing dishes.
Luckily Simon had an entire staff to do those things for him now.
Zane strode into the lion’s den. That’s what everyone liked to call it behind Simon’s back.
Very few people ever saw the inside of his sanctuary. Simon liked his privacy, and Zane understood why. However, at the moment, the last thing Zane was worried about was protecting the sanctity of Simon’s hidey-hole.
“Simon!” Zane bellowed walking into the center of the room.
“Took you longer to get here than I expected.”
Simon’s slow drawl came from behind. Zane spun in surprise and immediately felt his body falling into a fighting stance. He was going soft, if Simon could startle him.
“What the hell are you doing? She started a false fire alarm. She might not have stolen anything—yet—but she did break into several guest rooms. And you’re rewarding her with an upgrade? I can’t do my job if you countermand every decision I try to make.”
Simon walked across the smooth wooden floor to a bar set into the far wall. Leaning over and reaching behind it, he pulled out two glasses and a bottle of brandy. “Want some?”
“No, I do not want a drink!”
He shook his head, frowning and said, “You really should relax more, Zane. You’re going to have a heart attack before you’re forty.”
The dark amber liquid splashed into the bulb of the glass. “As we speak, her bags are being transferred to the Crow’s Nest, where you can look through them before sending them to her new room. And I’m surprised you haven’t realized that the room I upgraded her to happens to be located in a corner and covered by two more cameras than her previous location.”
Simon looked up at him, narrowing his eyes over the edge of the glass as he took a sip. “You’re welcome. Hey, look, I managed to play the good cop to your bad cop. Without any training, too.”
Great. He’d gone from working for the CIA to playing cops and robbers with a man who had a Peter Pan complex. Never mind that Simon had made a smart move. One Zane should have thought of. He really was getting soft.
Simon clapped his hand on to Zane’s shoulder. “Give it a rest, man. Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to frown? Your face could stick that way.”
“I’m not frowning.”
“The hell you say. I’ve known you for how long?”
“Too long,” Zane mumbled.
“Exactly. I can tell the minute you start castigating yourself. You get this really ugly furrow in the center of your forehead. Used to get the same thing when I went after some girl you liked at the bar.”
Zane growled deep in the back of his throat. A warning they both knew Simon would ignore. Their relationship had always been complicated. They annoyed the hell out of each other, had always been competitors for everything and each would take a bullet for the other without a second thought. Neither of them had siblings, and Zane often thought they filled that role for each other.