Page 7 of Point of Contact

"I want a fucking answer. How did you get in here?"

Something hit him in the center of his chest before bouncing to the mattress beside him. He grabbed it with his free hand, thumb sliding over the smooth plastic of a key card.

What the fuck?

He shifted, keeping his knees tight and his feet locked, the hand at the intruder's throat barely tightening as he leaned to flip on the light. He blinked against the sudden brightness.

Then he blinked again.

And once more.

Courtney stared up at him, her dark eyes wide but unafraid. A slow smile curved her lips. "If you wanted me in your bed, all you had to do was ask."

Reed lunged back, sliding off the mattress and stumbling toward the wall, never taking his eyes off the ghost stretched across his sheets.

Courtney watched him, her eyes moving over his body. "I don't remember you sleeping in the nude, Reed."

One hand reflexively shifted to cover his dick. "Everyone thinks you’re dead." He shook his head, still not quite believing what he was seeing. "Ithought you were fucking dead."

Courtney's chin barely lifted, jaw setting in a defiant display. "I’m sure everyone is crying. Devastated at the loss."

Her eyes dragged over his body once again, lingering at his pecs and abs. "I'm surprised you're the one who came here." Her gaze came back to his. "Considering how much you hate my guts."

Hate was a strong word, but he'd let her keep it. "Pierce offered ten thousand dollars to whoever was willing to come deal with you."

Courtney's lips thinned, her head tilting to one side. "That sounds about right."

He stared at her a few seconds longer, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Courtney was not dead, but very much alive. And very much in his hotel room. "How did you get in here?"

She angled her body up to a sitting position, lifting one shoulder and letting it drop.

He waited for her to say more. Courtney always said more.

But she stayed silent. And her silence was unnerving.

"Fine. If you won't tell me how you got in here, then maybe you can tell mewhyyou got in here."

Courtney had always been a pain in the ass, but this went above and beyond. Even for her.

She slowly worked her way to the foot of the bed before standing and coming his way. Now that she was standing, he noticed the difference in her appearance. She had on one of the most basic outfits he'd ever seen her in—a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt—and her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, brushed back from her makeup-free face. It was a stark contract to the made-up woman who only wore the nicest clothes he dealt with in Alaska.

But the smug expression on her face as she closed in, claiming his space as her own, was familiar. "I’m here because, like you said, everyone thinks I'm dead. And you're going to help me keep it that way."

CHAPTER THREE

COURTNEY

REED STARED AT her like she’d lost her mind.

And maybe she had. She’d lost everything else, so why not that too?

He shook his head. "That's not going to happen."

Courtney moved closer, tilting her chin up as she stared him down. "Yes. It. Is."

She’d dealt with Reed before. Many times. In addition to being a stickler for the rules, the guy was generally an asshole to her. He was uptight and had zero sense of humor.

And was hot on an unfortunate level, all dark eyes, dark hair, and full lips. He stood nearly a full head taller than her five-foot-one frame and had broad shoulders and muscular thighs, which were kind of her catnip. She could almost imagine digging her nails into them as he lost control.

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