Kristi Gold - Hotel Marchand 04 Read Online Free PDF Page A

taxi driver navigated the crowded Friday night streets, Renee spent the short drive answering Pete’s queries about specific sites and the continuing reconstruction after the flooding. She had a lot she wanted to say to him, but she wasn’t sure if she needed to get into that tonight. She had enough on her plate with the hotel; she didn’t need any hassles in her personal life. Not that she’d had much of a personal life for the past few months. For the past few years, if the truth were known. And that was one truth she wasn’t about to divulge to Pete.
    By the time they pulled up in front of the renovated warehouse, Renee decided that she didn’t have the time, or the energy, to rehash the past with Pete tonight. Besides, that would only encourage him to stay longer.
    She slid out of the car while Pete paid the driver. When he sent the cab on its way, she could only stare at him in disbelief. “You should have asked him to wait for you.”
    “I didn’t think about it.” He tried for an innocent look, and failed. Nothing about Pete Traynor was innocent, particularly those lethal, brown eyes. “I can call another cab, unless you don’t have a phone.”
    “Of course I have a phone.” And she had an urge to kiss that try-and-resist me grin right off his face. An urge she ignored, at least for now.
    After they entered the octagonal foyer, Renee greeted the twentysomething security guard seated behind the corner desk.
    “Good evening, Ms. Marchand,” he said before his expression brightened like a halogen bulb when he caught site of Pete. “Oh, man. Aren’t you the guy who directed Hot Wired? ”
    Pete looked appropriately humble as he extended his hand. “Pete Traynor.”
    “Donny Jones.” The guard gave him a two-handed shake and held on a little longer than necessary. “I love that movie. In fact, I own the DVD. I’ve watched it at least a dozen times and it still scares the bejeezus out of me.”
    “Glad you liked it.”
    Donny shook his head. “Man, my friends are not going to believe this. Can I have your autograph?” he added as he rummaged in the desk drawer.
    “Why don’t you catch him on the way out,” Renee said, fearing they might never get away. “I’ll send him down with a piece of paper.”
    “Sure thing, Ms. Marchand.” He winked at Pete. “Guess you two have more pressing business at the moment.”
    Pete had the nerve to lay his palm possessively against the small of Renee’s back. “That we do, Donny. Have a good night.”
    Renee gritted her teeth and resisted spewing out a litany of explanations for Pete’s visit to her apartment, and a few curses aimed at Pete’s unmitigated gall as an added bonus. With her luck, she’d probably awake to find a nice little write-up in the society page describing in detail her tryst with the director. But not if she sent Pete away quickly, which was exactly what she planned to do.
    For that reason, she walked at a fast clip with Pete following close on her heels until she reached the elevator.
    Elevator…
    While they waited for the car to arrive, neither of them spoke, and Renee wondered if he was remembering, too. Probably not. She could only imagine how many women he’d seduced in an elevator. But she didn’t want to imagine it. She didn’t want to think about that at all.
    When the doors sighed open a few minutes later, Renee rushed inside and pressed the button. Again silence prevailed, until Pete said, “You know, the last time we were in this position—”
    “Don’t say it.”
    “Fine. I won’t say it, but don’t expect me to forget it. And don’t try to convince me that you don’t remember, because I know you do.”
    Renee hadn’t forgotten one detail. Not one. Immediately after they’d approved the final script, she’d invited him to her Santa Monica condominium for a celebratory drink. On that particular night, they, too, had been alone in an elevator much larger than the one they were in now. He’d had his back to