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Page 19 of The Perfect Deception

He raised an eye­brow. “I live here. The ques­tion is, what are you do­ing here?”

She looked around. The color of her creamy skin deep­ened like an over­ripe peach. “I must have fallen asleep.”

Hold­ing out a hand to her, he helped her up. “Come on up­stairs.”

“No, I need to go home.”

“You haven’t told me why you’re here.” He steered her to­ward the el­e­va­tor.

“I came to apol­o­gize. But you weren’t home, so I waited. Now you’re back. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

Adam pressed the but­ton on the el­e­va­tor and held the door while wav­ing her in­side. “I’m not sure ex­actly what you’re sorry for. If any­one should apol­o­gize, it’s me.”

She leaned against the wall and an­gled her head un­til she could make eye con­tact with him. “You were up­set. I should have tried to help you.”

He froze, key poised to un­lock his door. How the hell did this woman read him so clearly? And more im­por­tantly, how could he stop it? “It was no big deal.”

“Yes it was.”

He folded his arms across his chest and turned to her, nos­trils flar­ing as all of his pre­vi­ous fears came rush­ing back. “How the hell would you know?”

“Any­one who knows you could tell.”

What the hell was she talk­ing about?

“I can tell you’re still up­set, even now.”

“No, I’m just an­noyed by a woman who was camp­ing out in my lobby.” He should have left her there.

“Right.” She didn’t look con­vinced. Af­ter a few mo­ments of si­lence, she sighed and stayed in the el­e­va­tor. “It’s late, I need to go. Good­night.”

It was two o’clock in the morn­ing. She was barely awake. “Please,” he said. He ush­ered her to his door. “Come in­side.”

“Your apart­ment?”

“Yeah.”

“Now?”

He looked around. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

He rubbed a hand down his face. “Be­cause it’s too late for you to go home alone and I’m in no shape to drive you.” Not wait­ing for her to ar­gue, he put an arm around her shoul­ders and steered her in­side. She fit well in the crook of his arm, all soft and warm. He searched his brain for a rea­son to keep his arm there. But ap­par­ently his brain was even more tired than usual, be­cause he couldn’t come up with a sin­gle one. And he called him­self a red-blooded male. “Sit down,” he said and pointed to the black leather sofa in his liv­ing room.

She sat, back straight, perched on the edge, as if she were afraid of…he didn’t know what. Not him, right? She didn’t know about the ha­rass­ment claims, so there was no rea­son for her to be afraid of him. But she looked un­com­fort­able.

He left her sit­ting in his liv­ing room and went to the linen closet. Grab­bing an ex­tra blan­ket and pil­low, he re­turned to her and pointed to­ward the hall­way.

“My bed­room is down there. You can sleep in my bed.”

She frowned. His fin­ger itched to trace the crease in be­tween her eye­brows. Hell, his whole body itched to touch any of her. In­stead, he squeezed the linens in his arms.

“With you?”

God he wished he could say yes. “No, I’ll sleep here.”

“Why?”




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