Caught Off Guard. Kira Sinclair

the man to the front door and stood staring at it for several seconds after she’d closed it behind him.

      She didn’t want to turn around, walk back into that room and deal with Blake. Or rather, she didn’t want to deal with the fight she knew was coming. Holding out against her mother was one thing. Would she be able to stand her ground against Blake, too? Especially when all her body wanted to do was melt into him?

      He didn’t give her much time to build her defenses. His voice sounded behind her, forcing her to face him.

      “Go pack whatever you need. I’ll call around and make a hotel reservation.”

      No, he wouldn’t. “I am not staying in a hotel.” Her voice was adamant and disdainful, more so than she’d meant it to be. It was a knee-jerk reaction, reverting to what she’d always thought of as the Prescott Tone of Voice. When she was growing up, it had gotten her whatever she’d wanted.

      She immediately regretted using it. She’d learned that simple courtesy went much further than any regal facade she’d perfected. But when she was cornered.

      “Oh? The local Motel 6 not good enough for little miss silver-spoon-in-her-mouth?”

      His attitude wasn’t helping any, either. “Let’s just say that the last time I was in a hotel it did not end well.”

      Blake’s face hardened. Her stomach tied in knots, her body catching on to the problem long before her brain did. “And whose fault was that?”

      She was taken aback by his tone and the way he’d referred to her brother’s suicide. “Is that supposed to be a comment about my brother?”

      “Your brother? How would he have anything to do with our night together?”

      With a groan, she realized they’d been talking about two completely different things. Understandable from his point of view. How to explain it to him, though, without bruising his ego? The only experience she immediately linked to a hotel was finding her brother’s lifeless body. Of course, to him that would probably mean their night together had been completely forgettable. So far from the truth. But she wasn’t sure he needed to know that.

      “Sorry. I always associate hotels with finding my brother after he committed suicide. That’s what I think about first, last, always. Honestly, it has nothing to do with you.”

      He took a step towards her, his outstretched hand offering her comfort she didn’t want to take. He started in on the normal platitudes, “I’m so sorr—”

      But she cut him off before he could finish, unwilling to accept the compassion she knew would be lurking in his eyes. She didn’t deserve it. Instead she filled the silence with random words she really hadn’t meant to say. “You were amazing. More than amazing. The best sex I’ve ever had. And trust me, I’ve had plenty of sex. Good sex. Bad sex. Forgettable sex. Nothing about you is forgettable.” Her voice trailed to nothing before she finally snapped her mouth shut.

      Better late than never.

      “Well, I suppose that’s something. Fine, no hotel. Karyn’s place?”

      “No. I am not barging in on your sister and her four-week-old marriage. The last thing she and Chris need right now is an unexpected guest.”

      “You know the minute you tell her what’s happened she’s going to insist you come to her place, especially because I’m guessing she already knows about your. phobia.”

      “Which is why I’m not telling her. This is my problem. I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

      He frowned. “I never said you couldn’t. But you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here and we’ll figure this out together.”

      It shouldn’t matter that he was being nice and supportive. But it did. It meant a lot to her that there was someone here to … not lean on, but at least share the burden with.

      And she was being nasty and snide. Sighing, she said, “I suppose you could help me secure the door. I’ll call around in the morning and see if I can get a replacement. Until then …”