Then I remember and my head snaps up, the spell broken, and I see Noah is gone. One lapse—one critical moment of distraction—and I lost him. Now we really need to get out of here.
“Sterling?” Adair says my name before her head swivels to see what I’m staring at. She turns back, confusion furrowing her eyebrows. “What is it?”
“We need to go.” I can’t wait around to see if he spotted me. It’s not a coincidence that he’s here. Nashville is a big city, but Noah Porter is here because we’re here. The question is: who tripped his snares?
“What are you—”
“For once, don’t fight me on this,” I say gruffly as I guide her across the lobby.
“Let go of me.” She yanks her arm free and stops in her tracks. “What is going on?”
“We need to go somewhere private before I can tell you that.” There’s not a chance in hell that I’ll actually tell her who I saw or what’s going on. Not until I know whether he spotted me with her. The less she knows, the less trouble she’s in. I doubt she’ll see it that way, but apparently I’m becoming an optimist.
“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me—”
I don’t wait for her to finish the sentence. Instead, I pick her up and carry her the last few yards to the elevator. She’s too stunned to put up a fight. It must look like I’m carrying her off to bed because a few drunk college students coming from the hotel bar catcall us as I haul her inside the compartment. I grin, playing the part of the dashing groom, and punch the button to her floor with my knuckle.
Adair glares up at me, her plump lips smashed into a thin line. That line of effort is all that stands between me and an explosion. If I were smarter, I’d put her down and run in the opposite direction. I know to get as far from a blast radius as possible. The trouble is that her trigger is linked to me. One wrong move and she’ll blow.
“Put me down,” she orders.
I release her slowly and brace for impact.
As soon as she’s on her feet, she reaches to press the lobby button. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’m hungry.”
I move between her and the control panel. Her nostrils flair, and I swear I can hear an actual countdown to detonation.
“Order room service,” I say tersely, slipping my cell phone out of my pocket and pretending not to care that her glare radiates fury.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“In a minute.” I dial Luca’s number as we arrive on the sixth floor. He answers on the second ring.
“Find her?” he asks.
“Yeah, thanks for the tip,” I say.
Adair’s eyes narrow, and she points to the phone. “Is that Luca?”
“That’s not why I’m calling.” I ignore her. Right now my priority can’t be her feelings. “I just saw an old friend of ours in the Eaton lobby.”
“Yeah. Who?” His voice is muffled, like he’s chewing something. I wonder if he’s in his room. That would be convenient.
Adair clears her throat, we’ve made it to her door, and she stands there tapping her foot.
I shift the phone.
“Open it,” I mouth.
“If you think I’m letting you in—”
“Open it,” I growl, leaving no room for interpretation.
“Sterling, who was it?” Luca repeats, sounding more alert. He must have heard the alarm in my voice.
Adair slams open the door, and I step inside, pulling her along with me. As soon as we’re through, I throw the deadbolt and pace to the end of the room.
“Noah’s here,” I tell Luca.
“Noah Porter?” Luca asks in disbelief.
“No, the guy with hundreds of animals. Prepare for a fucking flood,” I snap. My free hand rubs my temples as I feel the first pangs of a headache. “Find out why he’s here.”
Luca doesn’t argue with me. He already shifted to our contingency plans. “Will do. You sticking around?”
I turn an analytical eye on Adair. She hasn’t moved from the door. Her arms are crossed, and I can almost swear actual smoke is coming from her nostrils.
“Unclear,” I mutter, pivoting away from her.
“I’ll let you know when I have something,” he promises.
Ending the call, I take my time pocketing my phone while trying to come up with an excuse for my bizarre behavior. The trouble is that Adair isn’t like a lot of women I know. The few other relationships I’ve had were purely transactional. Sex. Dinner. Conversation not encouraged. They didn’t care who I did business with or if plans changed. Adair? She cares, and conversation is definitely mandatory. It’s why I’m in love with her. It’s why I don’t know if we’ll ever work.
“I’m waiting,” she reminds me.
“It was just an old friend. I was surprised to see him, and I wanted to make sure Luca caught him,” I say. I’m trained to withstand enemy interrogation, but I’m no match for Adair MacLaine.
“Do you always run from your old friends?” she asks flatly.
“Lucky, this is complicated.”
“Actually,” she storms, “it isn’t. It’s simple. Tell me the truth. Who is he? Why is he here? Where have you been the last five years?”
This is spiraling out of control so quickly I’m not sure there’s a way to reverse course.
“Those questions might seem simple, but the answers to them aren’t,” I say, searching her face for some sign that she’ll let this go, but I know Adair better than that. She’s too stubborn to let anything go, especially when
