“Mr. Carter will be waiting for you,” he told her. “So you won’t need a code to unarm the alarm.”
Becca nodded, clutching the black insulated box in her fingers. She was used to wealth. Her brothers made enough money, after all. Gray with his music career, Cam with his football, and both Tanner and Logan were successful businessmen. But she hadn’t personally experienced luxury like this. She stood in the center of the elevator car as it rose seamlessly through the building, watching as her reflection stared back at her.
She’d made more of an effort than usual this morning, tying her hair back into a low bun, and wearing a black tailored shirt rather than her usual GSC polo top. It was cinched into a pair of tailored khaki pants, and belted at her slim waist. Of course, she still didn’t look like she belonged in a hotel like this, but at least people wouldn’t mistake her for maintenance.
The elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding effortlessly open. And on the other side, in the center of a lobby that was bigger than her kitchen at home, was Daniel Carter.
He didn’t smile when he saw her. His jaw was tight and his eyes were dark, the way they always seemed to be when he stared at her. A stupid pulse of electricity shot through her veins.
When she stepped out of the elevator onto the tiled floor, she noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes. Had he been as sleepless as she had been since Friday? His hair was messier than usual, as though he’d ran his thick fingers through it too many times. And his face – though still devastatingly attractive – looked pale.
“Are you okay?” she asked, expecting a smart reply.
“I will be.” His attempt at a smile fell short. Maybe he really was sick. “Can I take this?” He reached out for the box. She slid it into his hands.
“I haven’t looked inside.” Though the temptation had almost killed her. But she’d made a promise and she always kept them.
“Thank you.” Still no smart reply. Yep, there was definitely something wrong. “Take a seat,” he said, pointing at a cream leather sofa in the center of an oversized living area. The wall in front of it was made of glass, looking out over the leafy city of Charleston. In the distance she could see the golden gleam of the Capitol dome. “There’s water in the refrigerator if you’re thirsty. I’ll be back in a minute.” He didn’t wait for her to sit, just strode across the room with the box in his hand, heading for a door on the far side. His bedroom? Becca shrugged and walked over to the window to appreciate the view.
She was a little thirsty now that she thought about it. Turning on her heel, she walked to the kitchen area. Sure enough, the refrigerator was lined with bottled water. She grabbed one for herself, then took out a second in case.
“Would you like some water?” she called out. There was no response. Stupid oversized penthouse. If he was in a normal hotel room, he’d have no problem hearing her. She walked over to his bedroom door and knocked gently. Still no reply. Sighing, she pulled at the handle, opening her mouth to repeat her question.
Then closed it swiftly.
Daniel was standing in the middle of an opulent bedroom, his shirt open and his dark gray tailored pants unfastened at the fly, revealing a smooth, taut stomach and lean hips, with dips and muscles in all the right places.
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him pinching his skin with one hand, the other holding a needle. At that moment, the point of the needle had made an imprint in his smooth skin. His body was as beautiful as his face. Sculpted and muscled. It made her heart speed, but for all the wrong reasons.
Pulling her gaze from his bare stomach, she took in his pinched brows and intense expression, his lips slightly parted as though he was concentrating.
And then he realized she was there and everything went to hell.
His eyes lifted, looking fiery as they met hers. Becca stepped back, her cheeks heating up as she realized she’d stepped into a scene she’d never expected to be part of.
“Get out!” Daniel snapped at her. “Now.”
But she couldn’t get her feet to move. It was like somebody had glued the soles to the carpet. Her heart was pummelling against her ribcage, blood rushing through her ears.
“Are you taking drugs?” she asked, her voice thin. Her hands started to shake. “Is that what I brought here? You made me traffic drugs!”
Daniel pulled the needle from his flesh, setting it in a tray on the dresser beside him. When he looked back at her, his eyes were as dark as ink. She could feel the disdain radiating from him.
“No, Becca, it’s not drugs. I’m a fucking diabetic.”
Daniel regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Not just because of the expression on her face – though that was pretty bad. But because she’d done something nice for him. Taken hours out of her day to bring his damn insulin and he’d thrown it back in her face.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. “I’m jittery. I haven’t been able to eat until I could inject myself.”
“That’s insulin?” she asked, glancing at the syringe.
“Yeah. I thought I’d brought enough with me, but I ran out this morning. I’m an idiot.” He blew out a mouthful of air. “Could you please give me a minute to tidy myself up?”
Her eyes were as wide as a doe’s. “I should go anyway. It’s a long trip back home.”
His chest tightened. “Please stay. Let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain.” She shook her head. “It’s fine, honestly.” She looked like she wanted to bolt.