“Who’s Ruslan?”
“Ms. Lerrus’ bodyguard.”
“She has a bodyguard?”
He snorted. “Not happily.”
Then Ruslan wasn’t hers.
It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out who had stuck a guard on her.
My lovely lover had been busy.
My attention altered, and I stared at the other site in front of me in the hallway. Brent and Cole were sleeping on the floor outside a door. They still wore their competitor’s attire from the event yesterday—winning, of course.
And Ember had taken a room next to mine after breaking it off with them.
Giddy with reporter’s delight, I quickened my strides. They started to stir, their brows puckering in my haste past them, so I opened my clutch and yanked my keycard out. Camera. I needed my fucking camera. While I had burned the truth about one story, I wasn’t against this one. It was a beautiful moment. To be caught on film.
I charged inside my room, going straight for my duffle and yanked my camera out. I turned back toward the door. And stopped. Staring at the adjoining door opened on my side, but not Ember’s room. I blinked at the room. There wasn’t anything else to be had in here. She had already bargained—and taken—the photo of true value.
Glancing at my bed, I gawked.
Ember was in my fucking bed. Under the covers. The bitch’s fire engine long red hair spilling over my damn pillow. Sleeping.Andsnoring very softly.
What the hell?
Christ.Later.I had a reporter’s delight to take care of.
I raced back across my room and threw open the door, it banging loudly with camera in hand…and they were gone! I glanced up and down the hallway frantically and saw them at the elevator, rubbing their faces and running their hands through their hair…just before they got in after the doors opened.Shit!
I slammed my door shut, hopefully waking sleeping beauty.
It did. I walked back over to the bed.
She was stretching, looking pretty damn comfortable and rested.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” I was trying for calm. It wasn’t working so much.
She pointed to her room, yawning. “I came back to my room to get some seclusion and rest after the gun control event, and I did for a little while…” her lips thinned, “well, it got a little loud in there later in the evening, so I came in here to get some sleep since I figured you wouldn’t be coming back.” She scratched her nose with a languid hand. “You bang around a lot when you’re getting ready, you know? Lots of hostility from the sounds of it.” She glanced at my hair. “Although I can see why.”
No way was I going to tell her she was right. I stated dryly, “Brent and Cole left. You can go back to your room now.” I paused. “And stay there. Unless you want me to run an article on you hiding from them.”
She yawned again and rolled out of bed, wearing a huge red thermal that readDEATH COMESand a pair of black gym shorts that were ten times too large. She had to hold up the shorts to keep them on.
“Do you not know your own size?” I gestured at her clothes.
She looked down and picked at the shirt. “I like these.”
I walked to her adjoining door, opened it, and motioned for her to leave. She did after grabbing her cell phone, the gun, and the knife under my pillow. She bumped my shoulder hard as she walked into her room.
These people were all fucking crazy. At least Daniil made up for it in other ways.
I locked my adjoining door and shoved a chair behind it.
There. That might help.
I went into motion, hurrying to shower. And…banged around again afterward because it was no use. My hair was just inhuman bizarre, but luckily, my face was back to normal coloring. Dressing in a long white, soft cotton sundress that floated around my ankles, and a white scarf I tied once around my neck and let hang down my bare back, I slipped on a pair of pearl-jeweled flip-flops and grabbed my purse so I could store my camera and recorder. I was ready to go.
