Stay until I get out of the shower. She might take off while I’m in there.”
He picked up his bag and had his hand on the bedroom doorknob but turned when Isabel began to protest. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m . . .”
She stopped arguing because he disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door. She looked at Nick and said, “That was rude, wasn’t it? Yes, it was rude. Some of the fans tonight were overly enthusiastic, but I don’t think any of them were rude. They were just excited. Right? Weren’t they excited?” Once again she didn’t give them time to answer. “I’ll admit I would have been scared if Michael and you two weren’t there. They could have rolled over me. They’d push like they did when we were hurrying to the car. I don’t believe I could push that many people out of my way.” She shivered, picturing the mob scene, and whispered, “I just never expected anything like that. Thank God you were with me.”
“It’s over now, Isabel,” Noah said. His voice was kind and soothing.
She nodded. She sat on the sofa again, her hands at her sides. “Did you have a nice time tonight?”
Thinking she would keep talking, neither one answered her for several seconds, but when she looked at them expectantly, Noah said, “Yes, it was fun tonight. I like Xavier.”
She smiled. “I like him, too.”
Nick frowned. “How much do you like him?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You either like someone or you don’t. I do like him. That’s all there is to it. I like a lot of people.”
Noah, blunt as always, asked, “What about Michael? Do you like him?”
“Sometimes.”
Noah and Nick exchanged a look as though they found her answer amusing.
Isabel settled back against the sofa pillows. “I’m not going anywhere,” she told them. “You should take off.”
“We’ll wait,” Noah said.
Now that she had quieted down, Nick answered one of her earlier questions. “About your flash drive—I was promised I’d get it back Monday or Tuesday.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going home tonight, Nick? Is Laurant home with the children?”
“Samantha and Tommy spent most of the day and early evening on the island with my parents.
They’re back home now with the nanny. Tomorrow’s a busy day for them. Sam has a play date and a birthday party to attend, and Tommy has a clean house he’ll try to destroy.”
Noah laughed. “He’s not even two years old yet, and already giving you fits. I love that kid.”
The talk turned to the MacAlisters. “After the party tomorrow, no matter how late it is, you know they’re gonna want to play poker,” Noah said. “Are you in?”
“Sure. Are you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Until Jordan drags you to bed,” Nick said.
“I like it when my wife drags me to bed.” He grinned after making the comment.
They continued talking about the relatives until the bedroom door opened and Michael walked out. He was barefoot and wore a white T-shirt and gym shorts. His hair was still wet. “Okay, Isabel.
It’s your turn,” he said.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the island tonight, Isabel?” Nick asked. “We’ll help you pack up.”
She shook her head. “I want to wind down, and this is the perfect place. It’s quiet, and I can order room service.”
She thanked them for taking such good care of her tonight and then walked into the bedroom to get ready for bed. She paused at the doors, turned back, and said, “Please take Michael with you. I’m fine, and I really want to be alone.” Thanking them once again, she closed the doors.
She spent a long time in the shower. She had to wash her hair again because of all the product the stylist had insisted on, and it took even longer to get all the makeup off. By the time she dried her hair and put on moisturizer, she was wiped out. She went into the bedroom, opened a room service menu, and sat on the side of the bed, flipping through the pages of the menu to find something she wanted to eat. Finally coming to the conclusion that she wasn’t really hungry after all, she turned down the comforter but didn’t get into bed. The tension of the day had left her drained and all she could do was stare into space. She was still sitting there in a silent stupor when Michael walked into the bedroom.
Adrenaline was suddenly flowing through her veins again. It didn’t matter what he was wearing, a business suit or shorts and a T-shirt, he was one fine-looking man, all right. He was also a pain in her backside, she reminded herself.
“Why are you still here?”
Ignoring her question, he said, “Let me get that bandage off your arm. It’s wet.”
Michael sat down beside her, so close his thigh rubbed against hers, and it was almost impossible to concentrate on what he was doing. After several attempts he finally got the bandage off and tossed it in the trash can. The pad that had covered the stitches kept them dry.
“How does it look?” she asked. She was so close to him she could feel his heat.
“It’s healing,” he answered. Michael told himself to get up, and yet he couldn’t make himself move. He desperately wanted to lose himself in her. He needed to think about something else—
anything else—and then he noticed she was holding a leather binder opened to the room service menu. “Did you want to order something to eat?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
They stared at each other a long minute without saying a word. The silence was heavy with anticipation.
She stood, thinking she should shoo him out of the room and get into bed and try to sleep. It wasn’t what she really wanted to do, though. Since Michael had walked into the police station, she had this indescribable need to be with him, and she simply didn’t want to resist any longer. She knew it was crazy and that a relationship with Michael could never go anywhere, but right this minute she didn’t care about consequences or being reasonable, and she wasn’t going to worry about what she would do if he rejected her. Whatever happened tonight, she was a big girl, and she could handle it.
“It’s been a long day. You should get some sleep,” Michael said, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. He was about to force himself to get up when she sat down on his lap, put her arms around his neck, and rested against him. Her head was tucked under his chin, and he could feel her heartbeat. “What are you doing? Get off me, Isabel.”
“I will . . . in a minute.” She decided to make up an excuse so she could hug him longer. “I’m cold and you’re nice and warm.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him while he again ordered her to get the hell off him. His actions contradicted his demand, but he wanted her too much to care. What was the harm of holding her for a few minutes? He was comforting her after her long stressful day and evening. Yeah, that was it.
He let out a long sigh. Comfort, my ass.
EIGHTEEN