Courting Gossip. Kimberly Dean

of swarming her, it gaped open to show cleavage that nearly gave him an aneurysm. Her bright hair was sexily mussed, and the split in the robe showed a mile-long length of leg. He followed the line of smooth skin all the way down to her painted toenails.

      The electricity in the air snapped.

      She shifted on the chair and pulled the robe together, but it was too late. She curled her toes into the carpet, but the splash of red was still enough. Out in the open like this, there wasn’t a red-blooded man who would forget her.

      She hadn’t listened to his advice either.

       Chapter Two

      Brody went into damage-control mode. He needed to get these two dressed and out of here, ASAP. Preferably with no talking. Talking led to slips, slips led to confessions, confessions led to charges, and the senator couldn’t survive any charges for solicitation. He was running for re-election.

      The big cop at the centre of it all cleared his throat. ‘I’m Detective Morgan. Let’s start at the beginning. Is everyone here OK?’

      When Genieve nodded, the chaotic churning in Brody’s head turned to strategic planning. How were they going to handle this with the press? The true newshounds? They’d get a whiff that something had happened, for sure.

      ‘No,’ the senator snapped. ‘We are not OK.’

      Morgan lifted an eyebrow. ‘Sir?’

      ‘Samuel Gunderson, US Senator. And this is my girlfriend, Genieve Hart.’

      ‘Senator,’ Brody snapped. Everyone on the hotel floor knew by now who had rented Room 740, but did the man have to continue to make himself the centre of attention?

      Brody shot a look at the detective. There wasn’t a hint of a smile on that hard face, but there was a gleam in his eyes. He knew a talker when he found one. Brody’s weight went to the balls of his feet. He needed to close this discussion down without causing any more suspicion than there already was. Hell, a video card was already headed for the police evidence locker.

      His head began to thud at the memory of what was on that video. It was going to be a long time before he could unsee that.

      ‘Are you physically harmed?’ the detective asked Gunderson.

      ‘I—’ Samuel took a moment to take stock. ‘Those two men broke in, and I tried to push them out. I didn’t know what was going on. I thought we were under attack.’

      When he slid up the sleeve of his robe, Brody was surprised to see a red mark slashing across his forearm. Jesus. Things had gotten more physical than he’d understood. He glanced worriedly at Genieve. She’d said Samuel was fighting with them, but he’d thought they’d had words. Had she avoided the fray? If there was so much as one mark on her—‘Get a photo of that,’ Morgan instructed a cop with a camera.

      Whoa. Brody stuck out his hand. ‘Just the arm.’

      The fewer photos documenting this, the better.

      ‘Document the evidence,’ the detective ordered. He wandered over to the door connecting the two rooms of the suite. ‘Dust for fingerprints.’

      Brody was piecing the sequence of events together in his head, too, and he didn’t like what he saw. He didn’t like that the senator and Genieve were together, and he didn’t like that Samuel had brought her here, but this wasn’t their fault. They’d been the victims of an hotel room invasion. Pure and simple. It was the truth, and that was exactly how he’d make sure the story played out.

      He judged the distance from the bed to the bathroom. It had probably looked like miles to her with people yelling and a bright light glaring in her eyes. The muscle in his jaw clenched so tight it began to ache. He needed to get her out of here.

      Gunderson waved his arm around, making sure everyone in the room saw the bruise. ‘I want those two charged to the full extent of the law. Breaking and entering…invasion of privacy…people should be as safe in a hotel room as they are in their own homes.’

      Enough. They had their evidence. They’d made an arrest. ‘You’ve got your pictures and a statement,’ Brody said. ‘We’re leaving now.’

      He picked up the senator’s shirt and thrust it into the man’s hands. ‘Get dressed. Sir.’

      He finally got the senator moving, but he hadn’t counted on the detective’s attention turning to Genieve. Brody stiffened at the sight of the big guy squatting down on his haunches to talk to her. He was too close and too…concerned.

      ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

      Brody glared at the back of Morgan’s head when the redhead gave him a timid smile.

      ‘I’m OK, just shaken. They came in at a really bad time, if you know what I mean.’

      And boom. Second sucker punch of the evening. Brody raked his hand through his hair. He had not needed to hear that.

      He cursed under his breath.

      He knew what she was. He knew what she and the senator did together, but seeing it the way he had? Hearing it? He halted that train of thought so fast his brain twinged.

      The detective continued talking with her quietly, and Brody leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers against his elbow. He knew that, between her and the senator, Genieve was the solid one. Normally he didn’t worry about her slipping up, but Morgan was a pro. And she’d had a rough night. Her voice had been shaking when she’d called him on the phone.

      Did the detective have to be so…so soothing?

      The heel of Brody’s shoe knocked against the wall, and her gaze suddenly lifted to lock with his. Her smile faded. She stopped talking and pulled the robe up tighter against her throat. His eyes narrowed. And there it was, the reaction he typically got from her…

      The senator finally came out of the bathroom in trousers and a wrinkled dress shirt. Genieve rose from her chair, and people stumbled over themselves helping her find her dress. The muscle in Brody’s jaw ticked when the detective was the one who found it. People parted like the Red Sea as she made her way back to the bathroom she’d been locked inside not so long ago. Brody watched her go, her red toenails peeking out from under the long hem of her robe.

      His head whipped around, though, when he heard the detective ask his client, ‘How can I contact you if I have more questions?’

      Oh, no. They weren’t going to drag this out with more questioning. ‘Call his office,’ Brody said coolly.

      ‘I’ll get you my card,’ Gunderson said.

      That wasn’t what he’d meant. Brody pushed away from the wall, but the senator was already pulling his wallet out of his jacket.

      ‘They can get the number,’ he repeated.

      ‘I’ve got it, Brody.’

      Brody’s air hissed out of his lungs. And now he’d been outed. He mentally counted to ten. He’d been trying to fly under the radar, but none of this was being handled the way he liked.

      The corners of Detective Morgan’s mouth twitched, and Brody felt a pinch between his shoulder blades. The guy was good.

      The senator opened his wallet, and the detective watched closely. Probably looking to see if cash had exchanged hands yet. The senator pulled out a business card but, as he passed it to Morgan, something else fell to the floor. Brody couldn’t see what it was, but when Genieve stopped on a dime he knew it was something bad.

      ‘You dropped something,’ the detective said. His voice had gone to gravel.

      Genieve’s grip tightened on the dress in her hands. She pivoted on the ball of one of her bare feet and swished back towards