“I did.”
“But there must be an art gallery on every corner!”
He laughed abruptly, but there was no real humor in it. “Yeah. A real cultural mecca.”
Kate pressed her lips together. She focused fiercely on the list, reading each and every entry as if committing them to memory. It was better than dwelling on the shiver down her spine that his humorless laugh had produced. She managed to make the task last until the cab finally pulled to a stop in front of a multistoried hotel.
She looked around curiously as she climbed out of the cab after him. Though it was definitely warm, the air was still cooler than it had been at home and for the first time that day, Kate felt a little of her tension ease. Once she checked into her own hotel room and had a few minutes away from Brett, she’d surely get a handle on the taut, edginess that plagued her.
She sighed faintly, eyeing the expansive park across the street. Dozens of pedestrians walked by. It was busy and colorful and lovely, and under any other circumstances, she’d make plans first thing to explore the park.
“Planning to stand out here all day, princess?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Stop acting like one.”
She wanted to slug him and the impulse shocked her. So, instead, she sailed past him through the hotel’s beautiful entry, heading straight for the registration desk. She dropped her tote bag to the floor by her feet and smiled at the registration clerk. She’d barely opened her mouth to speak when Brett appeared at her side.
“Reservation for Larson,” he said over her head to the clerk who nodded and began pecking at his computer.
“Yes, sir,” the young man said after a moment. “I have that right here.” He set a small form and a pen on the gleaming counter. “If you could just check the information and sign there, I’ll make sure your room is ready for you.”
Kate felt a jolt. “Ah…room?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Brett closed his fingers around her elbow, but she ignored the warning squeeze.
“One…room?
“Yes, ma’am.” The young man’s eyes flickered uncertainly to Brett.
“Two rooms,” she said firmly.
Brett’s fingers tightened even more. “Excuse us for a sec,” he told the clerk, and dragged Kate away from the desk.
She yanked her arm out of his grip. “I am not sharing a room with you,” she said flatly. “I don’t know what you think I was suggesting when I told you I was coming to Bos—”
“I’m not gonna jump your bones the second we’re alone in a hotel room, so get over it.”
Her cheeks felt on fire. “I am not sharing a room with you.”
“Then you can take your pretty behind back to Grandview. It’s August, Kate. Look around you. This place is crawling with people. You think I like the idea of sharing a room with you? Trust me. It wasn’t my first choice.”
“Then…get…a…suite.”
“How can you be a therapist when you don’t listen to a word anyone says? This place is booked as damn solid as the plane was.”
She spun on her heel and strode back to the desk. “Could we get a two-bedroom suite, instead?” She reached for her purse and her credit card.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Larson. We don’t have anything available this week at all. There’s a conference here, you see. Podiatrists.” He shrugged apologetically, but Kate had stopped listening after being called Mrs. Larson.
Her brain simply shut off.
“If I see you pull out that bloody credit card, I’m gonna cut it in half,” Brett murmured above her ear as he signed the registration form and pushed it back toward the clerk.
He palmed the narrow key card folder the clerk handed him and tugged Kate through the lobby toward the bank of elevators. Painfully aware of the looks they were receiving from the bellman who was carrying their few pieces of luggage, Kate waited until they were alone in their room.
Their room.
“Mrs. Larson?” She hissed the second the bellman pocketed his tip and shut the door behind him. “You registered us as Mr. and Mrs. Larson?” Her voice rose.
She watched Brett set his briefcase on the desk with extraordinary care. “Calm down.”
“No! I won’t calm down.” How could she when the very notion of sharing a room with him was sending her nerves into shock. “What on earth possessed you? One room?” She turned and waved her arm at the room. “There’s only one bed!”
“Quit acting like an outraged virgin,” he said wearily. “It’s a king-size bed. I can sure as hell control myself. Can’t you?”
She pressed her hand to her forehead. “This is a nightmare.”
“Then go home,” he said flatly. “Because I guarantee you, Kate, I don’t need this.”
And he didn’t need her. He never had.
“I just— I don’t want to share a room. That’s all. I’m used to my privacy.”
“Yeah. That’s why you live in Stockwell Mansion with your brothers and their new wives and families.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”
“And acting outraged and high and mighty is pretty damn tiring, too.” He turned away from her, striding toward the wide bay windows at the end of the spacious room. He shoved his hands through his hair, looking very much like he wanted to tear it out by the roots.
“Less than twelve hours,” he muttered. “This case is gonna kill me.”
“I’ll find another room. If not in this hotel, then another. We drove by a half dozen on this street alone.”
“No.” He pushed open the glass doors and stepped out onto the small balcony that afforded the same view of the park as the hotel’s entry.
She followed him. “I’m a grown woman, Brett Larson. What I decide to do and where I decide to stay is up to me.”
“Not if it interferes with my case. And if you’re so grown, start acting like it. We’re here to work. I registered us as a couple for a reason, and if you’d stop overreacting for a second, I’d tell you about it.”
The more reasonable he became, the more agitated she felt. “Shall I remind you that the only reason you have a case is because you’re working for my family?” It was unconscionable. She knew it the moment the words left her lips.
His hard gaze settled on her face. There was no anger in his eyes. They were as deeply, darkly brown as they
