Not your problem, he tried to remind himself.
It didn’t work.
Removing a bottle of sparkling water and one of still water from the small in-room refrigerator, he offered her the choice.
She took the bottle of still from him, their fingers brushing. Shivers ran up his arm. He’d had the same reaction last night every time they touched. He set the other bottle unopened on the coffee table, too distracted by her presence to drink.
Her attention back on the city, she opened the bottle and took a long sip, presenting the perfect opportunity to study her. Her long neck was emphasized by her movement and by the braid that hung past her shoulders. The dark color was fine, but he missed the sunny blond cascade he’d tangled his fingers in.
“Is that your disguise?” He cringed.Way to make conversation, Aleks.
Portia lowered the bottle and smiled at him.
His heart skipped a beat. Even as a brunette, she was still so beautiful. And her smile—it was real, versus the tight, fake one she gave the newsies.
“Yeah, I guess you can call it that,” she said. “It keeps people from bothering me when I run.”
Questions tumbled out of him. “Are you safe? Do you have security? Does anyone know you’re out alone?”
She raised a dark brow at him. The Ice Queen look didn’t work as well that way. “Yes. No. No.”
He quickly processed her answers and frowned. But was she really safe if she was out running without security? And why did he care so much? “What if something happened to you?”
“Is that a threat?” She lowered her bottle and stared at him.
“No!” Startled, he stepped backward and ran into the table. The other bottle of water fell over and rolled off the table, hitting the carpet with a thud.
“No,” he repeated as he bent to pick up the bottle. He took the moment to pull himself back together. “Never a threat. It can be dangerous for women alone at night. That’s all.”
Sadness flashed over her face and he cursed internally. Of all the choices he could make around her, he always seemed to pick the wrong one. “I’m sorry.”
Her lips curled up into a shadow of a smile and she shook her head. “It’s okay. It’s been a while since anyone has worried about me. In a positive way, I mean.” She laughed self-depreciatingly.
“No one?” That couldn’t be true. How could anyone leave this beautiful, dangerous, vibrant woman alone?
“No one who isn’t paid to.”
Fuck! There he went again, saying the wrong thing. “Oh.” His fingers wrapped around the bottle cap, twisting it off until it released with a soft pop.
The silence between them grew. It wasn’t awkward, but he wouldn’t call it comfortable. More like... waiting.
Because he couldn’t trust himself not to say something stupid, Aleks sipped his water with an air of calm he didn’t feel. When he neared the end of the bottle—and his breaking point—Portia finally spoke.
“Thank you.”
Aleks tipped his head. “For what?”
“For letting me in when I showed up completely unannounced.” She rolled her bottle between her palms. Her voice carried a hint of question in it.
Was she asking him why he let her in? Or asking herself why she was here? “You’re welcome. Any time.”
Her return smile was strained.
“Would you like to sit?” The suite’s living room had a number of places to sit. He swept his hand out to indicate any of them.
“Thank you.” The smile that accompanied her words was less sad.
He waited until she had taken a seat—she chose the sofa, with a view of the city—then sat far enough away that he hoped her presence wouldn’t short-circuit his brain. He felt like an idiot, tripping over his words.
