Free The Seraphina Donavan Collection: Contemporary by Seraphina Donavan Page A

as well. She ’ ll be staying with you in your suite, I assume?”
    Yes . He wasn ’ t letting her out of his sight, but he knew better than to let Mahoney know that was just what he wanted. “ I don’ t think that ’ s a good idea, Mr. Mahoney. We can ’ t even have a conversation without screaming at one another.”
    “It wasn ’ t a suggestion, Mr. Jameson. It was more of an order. I don ’ t trust you. Ergo, I don ’ t trust her. I want to know where she is in my hotel at all times. Understood?”
    Nick didn ’ t answer. It wasn ’ t required anyway.
    Goon One grabbed is arm and Dixie ’ s and led them to the elevator. The doors opened instantly and they were shoved inside none too gently, but at least they were sort of alone.
    Before Dixie could say anything, Nick jumped in. “You didn ’ t have to come here. I was going to send you the damn money!”
    When Dixie picked up his cue, he could have kissed her. But the fact that she was so damn smart was one of the things he ’ d always liked about her—and her boobs. Her boobs were amazing. Her butt was pretty impressive too. And all the parts in between were equally spectacular. In fact, she was pretty amazing from the top of her head all the way down to her perfectly pedicured toes.
    “Wouldn ’ t be the first time you lied about something,” she shot back.
    He could see that a lot of the heat had left her gaze. Unfortunately, it’d been replaced by fear. “Don ’ t be like that baby. I just ran into some bad luck is all.”
    “So did I...The day I met you.”
    Nick winced, but he didn ’ t bother to deny it. “ Look, let ’ s just not fight, okay? You ’ re tired. I know you hate being dirty. We ’ ll get you a shower and some dinner and try to be civil to one another.”
    “Fine,” she agreed.
     

 
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    D ixie allowed Nick to usher her into his suite, wondering what the hell kind of hotel put its entertainers up in such posh accommodations. Thinking of Mahoney and his too tight face and pencil thin mustache, she shuddered. With his cold, beady eyes, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine him having them both just disappear.
    As if he’d read her mind, an annoying habit that he hadn’t kicked to the curb nearly as easily as he’d dropped her, Nick explained, “Since Mr. Mahoney is unsure whether or not I’m on the level, he decided I should remain a guest here at the hotel. Rather than go back to my own apartment which might or might not be bugged.”
    Which meant that the room probably was.
    “How about some music?” he asked. “The more we talk the more we fight.”
    Definitely bugged, still she couldn’t resist another chance to take a dig at him. “Anything beats having to listen to you.”
    His raised eyebrow was his only response as he placed his phone on the docking station beside the TV. The bluesy rock that had been one of their many common interests filled the room. Looking around, she noted that it was a really nice suite. Luxe, even. “Seems like the hotel is treating you pretty good. This is a hell of a lot nicer than your last place.”
    He shrugged, removing the ornate aviator glasses and the scarf draped around his neck.
    Watching the play of muscle, covered by black leather, was distracting. Turning, she moved toward the window and gazed out. It overlooked the pool area.
    “It’s comped. Mr. Mahoney felt that, as the headlining act, I should be more accessible to fans and guests.”
    Meaning, she interpreted, that Mahoney had wanted to keep an eye on him. Whatever was going on, they were paddling up shit creek in a sinking boat. She felt him move behind her, coming to stand close enough so she could feel the heat of his body. He reached up, and her gaze followed the movement of his hand. Where he grasped the curtain, there was a thin cable concealed in the folds of the fabric. She shuddered.
    “The shower is a little tricky,” he offered. “I’ll show you.”
    Dixie followed him into the bathroom