Page 43 of Inarticulate

She chuckled. “Okay. It was clearly meant in offense. But everything here is so…” Arrogant? Imperious? Narcissistic? “…over the top.”

He ignored her and tugged on her hand.

“No.” She planted her feet and pulled her arm back. “I can’t be seen in there.”

He pressed his lips together, shrugged, and then walked toward the entrance to the building. She remained in place, watching as a middle-aged doorman descended the steps to greet him with a strong clap to his upper arm.

“Keenan, my man. What can I do for you tonight?”

Keenan pointed a lone finger to the sky with a raised brow.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed and turned her back to him. So much for being careful. This was stupidity at its finest.

She raised her collar, lowered her chin like she was some sort of secret agent, and swiveled back to the men.

Keenan had pulled out his wallet and was handing over a stack of bills.

What the hell?“No.” She raised her voice, unwilling to let him waste his money on her. “What are you doing?”

Keenan ignored her as she came forward. The door man couldn’t take his eyes off the cash, his tongue working his bottom lip in hunger as he eyed the money.

“Let me see what I can do.” The guy jogged back up the stairs and pushed into the building to head for the reception desk manned by a lone woman.

“What’s going on?” She couldn’t help the accusation in her tone. The money he’d handed over wasn’t pocket change. It was a substantial amount of bills. Something she couldn’t allow him to give away. Not on her account.

He waggled his brows and grasped her hand to raise it to his lips. He placed a long, lingering kiss on her knuckles, almost succeeding in making her forget where they were and what they were doing.

“We agreed we were going to be careful.” She waved an arm at the building. “Thisisn’t careful.”

The door swished open behind her and she stiffened at the approaching footfalls.

“You’ve got until nine.” The doorman handed Keenan a room card.

Nine?She stared at Keenan, but he was ignoring her again, nodding at the other man.

“I’ve organized the usual.”

“The usual?” Savannah murmured.

“But remember, be out by nine or my ass is on the line.”

As the men shook hands in farewell, Savannah retrieved her cell from her pants pocket to check the time. It was almost eight. Whatever they had planned would only last an hour. Sixty minutes of potential exposure.

The doorman walked away and Keenan stepped into her, his fingers finding her chin, his grip tightening.

“That dreamy hold isn’t going to work on me.” She lifted her lashes and met his steely stare.

He leaned in, his gorgeous mouth approaching.

“Nope.” She snapped her fingers up to cover his lips. “That won’t work either.”

He quirked a brow of disbelief.

“What are we doing here?” she whispered.

He raised the room card, taunting her with the promise of seclusion and pleasure.

“Why am I even contemplating this?” It was only sex. Only a mingling of limbs and lips and private parts. Yet something so simple and entirely physical had a hold on her like a steel trap around her ankles.

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