Page 32 of Protecting You
The whole thing prickled like an itch she couldn’t scratch.
A knock sounded, and she hurried out of the bedroom and through the living room to answer it. Of course it was a hotel employee delivering breakfast. But fear had her pausing, hand on the knob. “Who is it?”
“It’s Aline,” a woman answered.
Alyssa looked through the peephole, then swung the door open to a familiar gray-haired woman.
“Good morning, Ms. Crenshaw.” The woman winked as she pushed a cart into the short hallway, carrying with it the scents of bacon and pancakes.
“Good to see you, Aline.” Alyssa had known the Brazilian housekeeper since she was a girl.
“Your father is with you?” Aline transferred the covered dishes from the cart onto the dining table.
“Not this time.”
Callan’s bedroom door opened, and he stepped out. “Something smells good out here.”
Aline nodded to him, then shot a look at Alyssa, mouthingaye-aye-aye.
The look on her face, and the implication of her reaction, had Alyssa’s cheeks burning.
At least Callan had put on a shirt. She couldn’t imagine the housekeeper’s reaction if she’d caught the man in his pajama pants, that flat abdomen, those defined muscles.
Alyssa managed not to fan her face at the memory.
“Enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Crenshaw.” Aline turned her back on him and waggled her eyebrows at Alyssa as she walked out.
Alyssa locked the door behind her.
“I think she’s scandalized.” Callan didn’t seem all that upset at the notion.
“You could’ve stayed in the bedroom until she left.”
“I needed to know who you’d willingly let into our suite. I’d prefer you let me open the door from now on, please. We need to be careful.” He rounded the table and pulled out a chair for her. “Milady.”
“I need another cup of coffee.”
She escaped into the kitchen and refilled her mug, not that she needed more. She was hiding until her stupid blush was under control.
Why did that man have such an effect on her? She didn’t even like him.
That wasn’t strictly true.
Callan had always been a competitor, but he’d never been cruel or petty.
She opened the refrigerator, calling, “You want a bottle of water?”
“Sure.”
She startled and spun.
Callan was right behind her, taking up way too much space. And grinning, the jerk. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Sure he did, but she wouldn’t say so.
He was still chuckling as he reached past her into the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water. “Come on. We need to talk.”
She returned to the dining table and lifted the lids off the plates of food. Scrambled eggs with bacon and toast, pancakes with sides of butter and maple syrup, and a yogurt parfait. There were two glasses of orange juice and a bowl of cut-up fruit.
