“We’ll wait,” Noah said.
Now that she had quieted down, Nick answered one of her earlier questions. “About your flash drive—I was promised I’d get it back Monday or Tuesday.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going home tonight, Nick? Is Laurant home with the children?”
“Samantha and Tommy spent most of the day and early evening on the island with my parents.
They’re back home now with the nanny. Tomorrow’s a busy day for them. Sam has a play date and a birthday party to attend, and Tommy has a clean house he’ll try to destroy.”
Noah laughed. “He’s not even two years old yet, and already giving you fits. I love that kid.”
The talk turned to the MacAlisters. “After the party tomorrow, no matter how late it is, you know they’re gonna want to play poker,” Noah said. “Are you in?”
“Sure. Are you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Until Jordan drags you to bed,” Nick said.
“I like it when my wife drags me to bed.” He grinned after making the comment.
They continued talking about the relatives until the bedroom door opened and Michael walked out. He was barefoot and wore a white T-shirt and gym shorts. His hair was still wet. “Okay, Isabel.
It’s your turn,” he said.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the island tonight, Isabel?” Nick asked. “We’ll help you pack up.”
She shook her head. “I want to wind down, and this is the perfect place. It’s quiet, and I can order room service.”
She thanked them for taking such good care of her tonight and then walked into the bedroom to get ready for bed. She paused at the doors, turned back, and said, “Please take Michael with you. I’m fine, and I really want to be alone.” Thanking them once again, she closed the doors.
She spent a long time in the shower. She had to wash her hair again because of all the product the stylist had insisted on, and it took even longer to get all the makeup off. By the time she dried her hair and put on moisturizer, she was wiped out. She went into the bedroom, opened a room service menu, and sat on the side of the bed, flipping through the pages of the menu to find something she wanted to eat. Finally coming to the conclusion that she wasn’t really hungry after all, she turned down the comforter but didn’t get into bed. The tension of the day had left her drained and all she could do was stare into space. She was still sitting there in a silent stupor when Michael walked into the bedroom.
Adrenaline was suddenly flowing through her veins again. It didn’t matter what he was wearing, a business suit or shorts and a T-shirt, he was one fine-looking man, all right. He was also a pain in her backside, she reminded herself.
“Why are you still here?”
Ignoring her question, he said, “Let me get that bandage off your arm. It’s wet.”
Michael sat down beside her, so close his thigh rubbed against hers, and it was almost impossible to concentrate on what he was doing. After several attempts he finally got the bandage off and tossed it in the trash can. The pad that had covered the stitches kept them dry.
“How does it look?” she asked. She was so close to him she could feel his heat.
“It’s healing,” he answered. Michael told himself to get up, and yet he couldn’t make himself move. He desperately wanted to lose himself in her. He needed to think about something else—
anything else—and then he noticed she was holding a leather binder opened to the room service menu. “Did you want to order something to eat?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
They stared at each other a long minute without saying a word. The silence was heavy with anticipation.
She stood, thinking she should shoo him out of the room and get into bed and try to sleep. It wasn’t what she really wanted to do, though. Since Michael had walked into the police station, she had this indescribable need to be with him, and she simply didn’t want to resist any longer. She knew it was crazy and that a relationship with Michael could never go anywhere, but right this minute she didn’t care about consequences or being reasonable, and she wasn’t going to worry about what she would do if he rejected her. Whatever happened tonight, she was a big girl, and she could handle it.
“It’s been a long day. You should get some sleep,” Michael said, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. He was about to force himself to get up when she sat down on his lap, put her arms around his neck, and rested against him. Her head was tucked under his chin, and he could feel her heartbeat. “What are you doing? Get off me, Isabel.”