Page 30 of Cutter’s Lady

Chapter 6

Cutter’s body objected to being separated from Leslie’s even long enough to cross the street and go to his room. It required all his willpower to break away and take her hand. They walked across the street to the front doors of the hotel, stopping twice to kiss, unable to remain apart longer than a few seconds. The doorman smiled benignly as he held open the door for them. They drifted through the lobby into the elevator and kissed the whole ride up.

He sank his fingers into her hair, caressing her scalp with roughened fingertips and lifting the silky strands from their captivity. Leslie reach up and took out the elastic and pins that bound her hair, and it fell freely over his hands, gliding and twisting sinuously between his fingers. He crushed it in his hands, loving the feel of it, the texture and thickness. “I like it down,” he said hoarsely, and released her hair, watching it tumble free.

Leslie shook it out and ran her hands through the thick mass like a comb, smiling up at him. Her mouth was soft and wide with desire, with the moist, faintly swollen look that spoke of being thoroughly kissed. He wanted her so much that it was a physical pain. He moved to kiss her again, but the elevator bounced to a stop, and the doors opened on their floor. He pulled out one of their keys and they walked down the hall, hand in hand, looking for the room number. When they found it, he slipped the key inside and opened the door. Leslie walked through, with Cutter right behind her.

There was something wrong. Warning zipped electrically through the fog of his passion, and Cutter stopped, tensing. There was a faint smell, and it tickled at his memory. Cologne. He had smelled it often in his years down here. It was a heavy masculine fragrance often worn by San Cristóbalian men, differing in brand but very similar in its thick, pervasive odor.

Cutter glanced quickly around the room, shoving back the bathroom and closet doors to see if anyone lurked there. His eyes fell on their suitcases sitting at the foot of the bed. Leslie’s case was closed, but on one side a corner of material stuck out between the edges. Cutter’s mind was accustomed to noticing details. He had carried Leslie’s case twice today, and he was certain there had been no bit of clothing emerging from it. And someone as attached to their clothes as Leslie clearly was wouldn’t have risked damaging them by zipping up so carelessly. Somebody had been in their room while they were gone, searching their belongings.

“Can I use your phone?” Cutter held out his hand. Leslie deposited it without a question; she was too stunned by the sudden change in direction the night had taken. He pulled out a credit card from his wallet and flipped it over.

Cutter put the phone on speaker and called the number on the back of the card. An automated voice came on with a directory of menu options.

Leslie started to say something but Cutter held a finger to his lips. He was sweeping the phone up and down as he moved around the entire room slowly in a clockwise direction. After he hung up without choosing any of the options he flicked the lights back off, plunging the room into darkness. Then he pulled a pen light out of his pocket and roamed it around the room as well, concentrating on air vents and the potted plants. Once he’d finished with this exercise, Cutter turned the lights back on to find Leslie watching him as if he’d gone insane. “What are you doing?”

Cutter looked at her. Her hair tumbled wantonly around her shoulders; her mouth still arousingly evidenced their kisses. He wanted her; his body was throbbing with his need. But his mind was working now, coldly practical, once again in control.

“Someone’s been in our room. Before I could say anything, I had to make sure it wasn’t bugged. I was using the flashlight to search for a lens reflection in case they planted a camera.”

Leslie looked absolutely floored. “And the call to the credit card company?”

“If you make a phone call on a cell phone near a listening device you’ll usually hear a clicking noise. But I didn’t want to alert anyone who might be listening and I don’t call a lot of people—no phone and all—so I just chose something innocuous.”

“But we’re safe?”

“Depends how safe you feel knowing someone went through your things.”

“What?” She looked around in confusion. “How do you know?”

“Experience.” He nodded toward her bag. “Also, I assumed you didn’t get your clothes caught in the zipper of your bag.”

“That was the only expensive shirt you let me pack!” Leslie ran over and dropped down beside the bag, freeing the shirt and carefully turning it over like someone checking a victim of a horrific car accident. He smothered a smile. At least she wasn’t completely unpredictable. He’d been fairly certain she’d overreact to that. Once she was apparently satisfied that no lasting damage had been done, she rolled it back up and carefully tucked it away. It was so charmingly Leslie that he couldn’t help but laugh.

She gave him an appraising gaze. “What? Are you laughing at me?”

He took her in his arms again and gave her a soft kiss. “Not at. With.”

“But I’m not laughing.”

“How about I just tell you that was adorable, and we leave it at that?” He kissed her again, longer this time, before reluctantly pulling away.

After their scene outside, he couldn’t imaging the guys in the white car thinking it necessary to guard the other exits from the hotel for at least another hour or so. But after that, it was possible they might cover one of the side doors.

Of course, he and Leslie could sleep together and still leave the hotel soon, but everything in him protested that idea. He didn’t want the sex to be hurried, with them jumping up to leave as soon as they had finished. He thought about the men across the street, waiting in the dark, probably exchanging lewd comments over what was happening right now in Cutter’s hotel room. He felt a stab of revulsion at the idea of their passion being tainted by the knowledge that their tail was outside, aware of what was going on. Much as he wanted her, he knew there was no way he was going to sleep with her in this room tonight.

“Leslie—” his voice was still husky with desire “—we have to leave now.”

“What?” She took a step toward him.

“And who knows how much those Red Sins are still affecting you,” he continued, sighing. “Hell! Why did I have to start thinking?”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Are you going to tell me that those drinks aren’t at all responsible for how tonight has gone? I have the feeling that tomorrow you aren’t going to much like me or what you did tonight—even less so if we have sex.” Leslie gazed at him, frowning. “Not that I’m noble enough to turn you down just because of that. Right now, I’d take you almost any way I could get you. But our escape hinges on us moving fast.”

“I don’t get you.” Leslie shoved back her hair and sat down on the edge of the bed. The room’s lights seemed too bright, and there was a little ache beginning in the back of her head. Her body hummed from wanting Cutter—and he was saying he wasn’t going to sleep with her.