Stop it.
"What?"
She cringed, realizing she'd spoken aloud. "Just telling myself to stop being stupid. I've taken self-defense courses. And I'm pretty much addicted to romantic suspense novels. I'm really not too stupid to live. You're totally right that I should have shut the door. I was just ... in awe, I guess."
"Awe?"
She lifted a shoulder, feeling silly. "This place," she admitted. "I've never stayed any place like it."
He glanced around, obviously taking in the room. The dresser, the desk, the sofa. And, of course, the bed. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought his eyes lingered on the bed.
"It's nice," he said. "But not that different from most hotels."
"I wouldn't know." She leaned against the edge of the desk. "This is my first hotel."
"Really?"
She only shrugged, not wanting to dig into the details of her rough background.
He was studying her, his head cocked as if she'd surprised him. Considering most people her age had stayed at a hotel--even if it was just a Disney vacation when they were little--his surprise was probably justified.
"Well, you'll have time to enjoy it. I figure two days. We'll get security installed at your apartment, then you can stay there. Tomorrow we'll go grab you some clothes and essentials, and we can talk to your manager."
She nodded, a little numb that things were moving so fast. Fast was good. But it was making her mind spin.
"So how come you're here? Not that I'm ungrateful, but I got the impression from Brent that I'd see you tomorrow. Assuming I saw you at all."
"Was there really any doubt?" He took a step toward her, and she realized that she was trapped between him and the desk. "You honestly thought that I'd say no?"
"I--" Her heart was pounding in her chest. "I guess I wasn't sure. You don't really know me, after all."
The corner of his lip twitched, and his eyes stayed locked on hers. "No? Well, I guess we can remedy that now. And as for helping you, that's what I do, remember?"
"Sure. Right." Her head was spinning. On the one hands, his words suggested he'd come specifically for her. On the other, he was talking as if she was just one more case on his docket.
Instead of pondering that more closely, she deflected. "What about Mina? She's probably on her way over right now."
"I told her I wanted a chance to talk with you first. That you'd text her when we were done."
"Right." Taylor nodded, then cocked her head. "So is this the part where you take my statement, Detective?"
He lifted a brow, his gaze skimming over her. It suddenly struck her that those words sounded more than a little like a come on, and some naughty part deep inside wondered how he'd react if she put her hand back on his chest, and whispered, Maybe you need to frisk me, too.
Stop it.
Maybe there was a mutual attraction and maybe there wasn't. But he was in this room to help her, not to take her to bed. And right then she needed help one hell of a lot more than she needed an orgasm.
So get your damn libido under control and stick with the program.
With those strict instructions ringing in her ears, she moved past him to take a seat on the sofa. She started to tuck her foot under her, remembered she was wearing a bathrobe, then pressed both feet to the floor, her legs tight together and her hands resting on her knees.
She cleared her throat. "All right. Interrogation time. What do you want to know?"
"Everything." He perched on the side of the bed opposite her. "I heard it from Brent. Now I want to hear it from you."
"Right. Of course you do." She'd told Brent. She'd told Reece. Pretty much all she did was talk about how she was in trouble. But she dutifully repeated the whole thing to him. He didn't interrupt, but seemed to take it all in, nodding slowly throughout.
"And now we're here," she said, finally wrapping up.