Free The Art of Sin by Alexandrea Weis

same.” She waved to the hall outside.
         “I won’t give up.”
         “I won’t give in,” she countered.
         Grady inched closer and whispered, “I like difficult women.”
         “Good-bye, Grady.”
         He held up his bandaged finger. “What if I need more nursing care?”
         She sagged against the door. “Grady, please. I’m flattered that you would want to be with me, but you and I both know that, in the end, I would be just like that girl you left with last night. Another nameless face you had a couple of quick rolls in the sack with and had forgotten about by the time you pulled into the next city.”
         “You don’t know that,” he argued.
         “Yes, I do.”
         He decided that he had pushed her far enough. Shaking his head, he turned for the open door. “Thanks for the bandage.”
         “You need to keep those two fingers taped together for about four weeks. By then, it should be fine.”
         He walked through the entrance. “Thank you, Allison.”
         “It’s Al, Grady. It’s always been Al.” She banged the door closed behind him.
         Grady flinched when the thud of her front door echoed about the third floor landing. Making his way to the stairs, he thought of other ways of getting through to Al. He recalled how gentle she had been when wrapping his broken finger, the scent of lavender in her hair, the swell of her breasts, and the temptation of her lips.
         Obviously, this is going to take a bit more effort than I had initially planned.
         Trotting down the stairs, Grady realized there was another problem eating at him. He had opened up to Al about his past; something he had never done with a woman since hitting the road. The more time he spent with her, the more she was beginning to turn into something other than just a passing challenge; she was becoming a possibility. A possibility that Grady feared he may never be able to leave when the time came to pack up his car and move on.  

Chapter 5
     
         When Grady reached the second-floor landing, he heard the grand front doors smacking closed. Peeking down the stairs, he saw Doug in the foyer, still dressed in the same white long-sleeved shirt from the night before, with his red bow tie tucked into his front chest pocket.
         “Are you just getting in?” Grady called, hurrying down the steps.
         Doug glanced up from the envelopes of mail left on the table by the doors. “Yeah, long night.”
         Grady bounded down the last two steps. “What’s her name?”
         Doug tossed an envelope in his hand to the table. “Beverly.”
         “Is she the steady girl Cathy mentioned?”
         “It’s more like on again, off again with me and Bev.” His dark eyes glimmered with a mischievous glint. “Cathy and you have fun?”
         Grady leaned against the bannister. “Where did you find that one?”
         “She hangs out in the main bar a lot, hoping to pick up the bartenders.” He rolled his round, dark eyes. “Cathy’s got a thing for bartenders.”
         “Well, she damn near killed me last night. A little warning might have been in order.”
         “I heard from one of the other guys at the bar that she likes it rough.” He pointed to Grady’s taped fingers. “She do that?”
         Grady held up his right hand. “No, I got it caught in a door.”
         “You should let Little Al take a look at it.” 
         “Already did.” Grady nodded to his hand. “She’s the one who taped it up.”     
         Doug raised his eyebrows, appearing impressed. “Make any headway?”
         “No,” Grady grudgingly confided. “I’m still working on her.”
         “You do realize that she’s heard it a hundred times before from every buff and tan guy that has walked through those doors.” He thumbed the front doors behind him. “Myself included,” he added