Free Stolen Seduction by Elisabeth Naughton Page A

She’d vowed never to be
    that way again.
    “Be warned, Mother. Daddy’s lawyer called me, too. I know about this little game you’re all playing. So you’d better make it worth my while.” She leaned over the counter for emphasis. “Or I call
    the next person on my list.”
    Eleanor’s gaze darted up. “You wouldn’t dare.”
    “Watch me.”

C HAPTER SIX
    A smart man would know to leave well enough alone. A smart man would know not to push his
    godforsaken luck. And a smart man would definitely realize when he was walking on quicksand.
    But Shane Maxwell had never been particularly bright, at least not where women were concerned.
    He’d had his fair share of relationships—all had crashed and burned for various reasons—and when
    it came to commitment, he’d memorized one word in response: run. But there was something about
    this woman he just couldn’t get out of his head. Or his chest. Whenever he thought about her, he got
    this stab of regret right beneath his breastbone and heard this really irritating voice in his head that
    screamed: coward.
    It was that voice he hated most. The same one that had been dogging him for months. The one that
    had pushed its way into his head when he’d had Hailey in his apartment last night. The one that was
    telling him to flee now, that being here was a bad-ass idea. That only shitty things could come from
    getting involved again.
    He stared at the darkened windows of the Roarke Lake Geneva resort and flipped the Tic Tac box
    open and closed in his pocket. The clock on the dash of his sedan read 11:42 P.M. She was probably
    asleep. Or tucked in bed, watching The Tonight Show. Or naked in that big, soft bed with Billy Sullivan.
    That last thought propelled him out of the car and across the iced-over sidewalk toward the hotel’s
    front doors before his better judgment kicked in. The doors were locked, just like he expected, but
    since he’d been sitting out in the cold for the last hour like a freakin’ stalker, he knew a janitor was
    working the lobby. He stood there shivering in his Columbia jacket and last year’s scuffed Nikes as
    he tapped on the glass and waited for the middle-aged man to turn off his vacuum and glance
    Shane’s way.
    When the guy finally did, Shane held up his badge and gestured toward the doors. The janitor ambled over and flicked the locks. “There a problem, Officer?”
    Shane tucked his ID back in his jacket pocket and stepped into the lobby, blocking out the cold.
    “No. I just need a few minutes with Ms. Roarke. A couple follow-up questions from earlier today.”
    The man’s bushy salt-and-pepper brows drew together. “Right now? Can’t it wait ‘til morning?”
    It should. Damn if Shane didn’t know why it couldn’t. “No, I—”
    “I heard her tell her secretary ‘round five she didn’t want to be bothered tonight. Had dinner delivered from some fancy restaurant earlier. Must be nice to have money like that.”
    Shane’s muscles flexed as he thought of Billy again. And the fresh bruises on Hailey’s face. Only
    this time he saw the two of them sitting down to a nice, romantic, secluded dinner in her room. He
    brushed past the janitor and headed toward the hall he’d been in this morning that led to the firstfloor suites. “She can spare a few damn minutes for me.”
    “I can give her a call to let her know you’re here,” the janitor called after him.
    “Don’t bother,” he tossed back. He wanted to surprise her. Hell, he wanted to surprise her good.
    Then slam his fist into Billy’s face just for the fun of it.
    He tamped down his temper as he reached the door to her suite. Then stood there just listening. No
    sound came from the other side. He knocked and waited, and still nothing.
    He headed back to the lobby. The janitor was nowhere to be seen. Growing more frustrated by the
    minute, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his Tic Tacs. He popped a handful in his mouth,
    then shoved the plastic box back