Page 54 of Laura's Truth
“Good thinking,” he said, drawing her away from the scene one cautious step at a time. “Put this on.” He handed her his jacket to cover the blood on her dress.
“He’ll live,” she said. “He’ll live.”
He guided her away until Nicole, dressed as a theater usher, pointed them toward the box office. “This way,” she said.
They followed her into the office and right on through the emergency exit door. She handed them a key. “Room 304 at the Francis Marion.”
“Where’s Hackett?” he demanded.
“We’ll find him.” Nicole gave them another nudge. “Ross is on the phone with his friends in CPD. Be careful.”
***
Twice on the short walk, Laura tried to explain how it all went wrong, but Drew shushed her. Her ankle was killing her in these heels and she couldn’t quite muster up enough temper to offset the pain.
“I should’ve put a bullet in him,” she muttered, plagued by defeat and exhaustion. Drew had been right all along and she just kept leading him the wrong way. “I’ll call it in, drop a net over the city.”
Drew stopped short, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. Hard. Different from that wondrous kiss on the beach, but she didn’t mind…until he released her. Then she had something new to think about.
The litany of questions cycling through her head shifted from Hackett’s bizarre behavior to questions about Drew. His motives and plans. His thoughts about her. About them. If such a term even applied to this situation.
They made it to the Francis Marion without incident and Drew hailed a cab. She didn’t give voice to any of her questions, although having him silence her with kisses made it more than a little tempting.
He tucked her close to his side as he gave the cabbie the name of their last hotel—on the Isle of Palms. She nearly laughed. Of course he wouldn’t stay where Ross wanted him to stay, though right now she was happy to leave downtown far behind.
“Send the text that you’re okay.”
She pulled the phone from her evening bag and did as he asked, then tucked it away again. The trip was over in fifteen quiet minutes. He paid the driver and then helped her out, keeping his arm around her as they entered the hotel lobby.
The chill of the air conditioning crept under the collar of his coat and raised goose bumps along her nape. She snuggled into his embrace, the strength of his arm making her feel sheltered. Protected. Not that she really needed protection. How had she never recognized that a part of her wanted it?
He opened the door to the room, checked that the tag he’d left was still in place and no one had entered the room since he’d left, then brought her inside.
She stopped in the small space and leaned back against the wall. The adrenaline high was kicking in and the best, most logical outlet was standing just out of arm’s reach. “If I say something stupid, will you kiss me again?”
“I’d rather skip the stupid part.”
“Really?” She’d prefer the more direct route herself.
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Desperately,” she confessed. He raised an eyebrow and she laughed. “But we should probably sort out what happened first.”
He must have considered that stupid because his mouth covered hers so fast it stole her breath. Lips parted, she welcomed the hot sweep of his tongue into her mouth. The warm scent of early summer clung to his skin, enveloping her as his breath became hers.
She arched against him, sliding her hands up to his shoulders, across his broad back. His fingers dug into her hips and she felt a mirroring desperation in his touch, felt the hard ridge of him at her center as he pulled her hips to his.
He pulled away, his eyes searching her face. “What are we doing?”
“Everything.” She licked her lips, savoring the taste of him. “I hope.”
“Wait.”
He stepped back and pushed his hands through his hair. It might be stupid, possibly selfish, but she wanted those hands back on her body.
She slid out of his tuxedo jacket and handed it to him as she moved into the room.
“What are you doing?”