a grin that she wanted to knock right off his face.
She clamped her mouth shut when she heard Grey’s soft footfalls returning to the room.
His eyes were drawn to her as soon as he walked through the doorway. She was so damned beautiful it took his breath away. Right now her sea-green gaze was narrowed with dangerous intent on Sparrow. She flicked at a strand of silky, strawberry blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail as she glared at the other man.
Grey frowned, hoping she wasn’t pissed that Sparrow had invited him along for a drink. But when her eyes moved to his, her gaze softened. Hopefully that was a positive sign.
“Well, if the offer still stands, I guess I could use a drink,” he said. “I’ve just been informed that I have my choice of a third-rate motel about a half hour from here, or a second-rate one an hour away. Apparently some damned convention is in town and they’ve booked all the decent rooms.”
“You mean to tell me they can’t find space for the FBI?” Sparrow asked incredulously. “This country’s gratitude toward law enforcement is overwhelming.”
Grey chuckled.
“Seriously, though, we can do better than that. I’ll have my girlfriend, Sydney, see if she can get you a comped room at her hotel up the street.”
Grey lifted a brow. “I wouldn’t turn my nose up at that offer. But don’t trouble yourself, Officer Sparrow. I’m used to living rough when I work a case.”
“We’ll consider it even if you give us a ride back to the hotel,” Pat replied with a smile. “And by the way, my friends call me Pat or Sparrow—you can take your pick, as long as you drop the ‘Officer’.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, if you’ll lose the ‘Agent’ and call me Grey,” he said with a grin.
Chapter 6
Grey whistled in appreciation as they strode through the cavernous lobby of the sprawling beachfront hotel. Marble floors, frescoed ceilings and gilt trim out the yin yang. This was old Palm Beach at its finest. And its most expensive.
“Thanks again for setting up the room,” he said to Sparrow. “I doubt my office even tried to book this place. It’s not exactly in the FBI’s daily travel budget.”
Sparrow laughed. “No problem. Sydney has connections with the staff. And here she is,” he added, his expression gentling as they approached a smiling woman sitting on a leather barstool.
Grey didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t the unassuming, jean clad beauty waiting for them. She had a free spirited, bohemian look with her long hair and loose, colorful top.
And if their lingering hello kiss was anything to go by, she and Sparrow were crazy about each other. She broke it off with a laugh and gave Sparrow a playful swat when he continued to nuzzle her. Leaning around him, she said hello to Scarlett, and then stuck her hand out to Grey.
“Hi. I’m Sydney.”
“Greyson. But my friends call me Grey. Pleased to meet you.” Her smile was infectious and he couldn’t help but grin back at her. “I was just thanking your man, Sparrow here, for getting me the free room. But I hear that was really your doing.”
She waved it off. “Live in a place like this and you get to know people. Besides, do you have any idea how much they make here in a single season? They can afford to comp a room for an FBI agent working a local case.”
“Well, I thank you nonetheless,” he said sincerely. “How does one get to live in a place like this anyway?”
She gave a wry laugh and glanced at Sparrow. “It’s a long story. And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. But that’s neither here nor there,” she said, hopping off the barstool. “How do you feel about champagne and Chinese food, Grey?”
“I feel pretty good about champagne and Chinese food,” he replied with a bemused look at Scarlett, who shrugged as if to say she was just along for the ride.
“Good! Because the food and drink prices here are outrageous. And I happen to have a couple of bottles chilling up in my penthouse, as well as quite an assortment of little paper boxes of deliciousness on the way.”
“How could I refuse an offer like that?” Grey replied.
“I was hoping you’d say that. Come on, we don’t want to miss the delivery guy.” Sydney shot Sparrow a self-satisfied smirk as she linked her fingers through his and pulled him toward the elevator.
He’d had about thirty seconds to explain what was going on when he’d called to warn her they were coming. And he had to hand it to her—he couldn’t have planned a cozier, less threatening setting for Scarlett and Grey to get to know each other if he’d had an entire day to do it.
“Posh living,” Grey commented as they exited the elevator into Sydney’s private foyer. “I like it.”
“Know what my favorite part is?” Sydney asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
“The amazing view?” he suggested on an impressed breath as he followed the trio inside.
Sydney shook her head. “The twice a week maid service,” she replied giddily as she continued into the living room and dropped onto the couch with a blissful sigh.
Sparrow joined her, leaving the smaller loveseat for Scarlett and Grey.
“Wasn’t there a chair here before?” Scarlett stood frowning at a space near the sliding glass door.
“Yes, but I’m having it cleaned,” Sydney answered brightly as she leaned forward to pull a bottle of champagne from its ice bucket on the coffee table.
“I hope no one minds casual dining with chopsticks on the sofa,” she said, smiling at Grey as she filled his glass. “I’m afraid my dining room has become my home office.”
Scarlett lowered herself into the space beside Grey, trying to act as if his nearness didn’t affect her. But he smelled amazing. She’d noticed it on the car ride over, sitting next to him in the front seat.
He didn’t have the artificial cologne odor that many human men seemed to favor. He smelled simply of clean soap and warm skin, like her own people. But more appealing than any male she’d ever met.
His leg brushed against hers and she could feel the firm muscles of his thigh through the material of his slacks. It sent fissions of awareness prickling across her skin, and tingles of heat cascading through her blood stream.
The sensation was entirely new to her, and she had difficulty ignoring it as she tried to focus on what he was saying to Sydney.
“…working from home. I’m on the road so much. I have to say this is a nice change from eating out of boxes alone in my hotel room.”
“You’re still going to be eating out of boxes in a hotel room,” Sparrow joked, “but at least you’re among friends.”
Grey turned to Scarlett. “So, how long have you and Sparrow known each other?” he asked, his
