Midnight Action by Elle Kennedy Page B

slid it up a few inches.
    His mouth went arid when a lacy black garter was revealed. But it was no ordinary garter—this one was custom-made to secure a silver derringer to her thigh.
    “Please don’t make me use this,” she said coolly. “My decorator insisted on an all-white color scheme in this room, and poor Miles will have a bitch of a time scrubbing your blood off the carpet.”
    He supposed he could’ve argued some more, but truth was, he was feeling stir-crazy from being cooped up indoors all day. He had no intention of going to a hotel, though. Nah. A night on the town might do him some good.
    With a shrug, he leaned forward and shoved his laptop in its case. “You win. Let’s go.”
    When he reached the doorway, Noelle spoke through gritted teeth. “Your laptop.”
    He glanced at the black case on the glass coffee table, then hid a grin and went over to retrieve it. Fine. Looked like the computer would join his gear in the car. But it was damn well coming back here, just like he was.
    As he followed Noelle down the wide corridor, he had to wonder why he was so determined to stick close to her, when normally he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
    Then again, normally he wasn’t the target of a faceless enemy who wanted him dead.
    He might not trust Noelle, but he couldn’t deny that she was a good ally to have in hairy situations. Besides, until her story checked out and he received confirmation that Girard had actually hired her to eliminate him, he wasn’t letting the woman out of his sight.
    The town house boasted its own elevator, which they rode down to the spacious garage in the basement. When they stepped onto the concrete floor, Morgan couldn’t help but admire the collection of vehicles Noelle kept stashed there. A sleek silver Ferrari, a cherry red Lamborghini, a yellow Ducati motorcycle whose model hadn’t even hit the market yet. The woman had expensive taste in cars; that much was obvious. But she ignored all of them and headed for the black Lincoln Town Car parked in front of the automatic steel door.
    Noelle’s driver, a bulky man with a shaved head, instantly hopped out of the sedan to open the back door for his mistress.
    Morgan had noticed that every member of Noelle’s staff just happened to be a handsome male. Her driver, her flight staff, her housekeeper. But since one of her favorite pastimes was toying with men, it didn’t surprise him that she surrounded herself with an army of them.
    They settled in the back of the Lincoln on opposite ends of the leather seat. As the car engine hummed to life, the partition between them and the front seat rolled down.
    “Which hotel should I take him to?” the driver asked in a disinterested voice.
    Morgan spoke up before Noelle could. “No need for a hotel. I’ll be staying here with your employer. Just take us to—” He glanced at Noelle. “Where are we going again?”
    Her lips went so tight they nearly disappeared off her pretty face. But just as he expected, she didn’t challenge him. Noelle would never allow herself to appear undermined in front of her staff.
    “The Nuit Rouge, Frédéric. Thank you.” Then she pressed a button on the door and the partition swooped right back up.
    “What the fuck kind of game are you playing?” she demanded.
    “No game. I just think your house is super-duper cozy and I sure don’t want to leave it,” he replied with saccharine sarcasm. “Got a problem with that?”
    She glowered at him. “Yes.”
    “Tough cookies. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
    Her hand played with the bottom of her dress again, as if she were contemplating pulling out her pistol and using it on him, but after a beat, she laid her hand flat on her thigh and turned to him with a thoughtful expression.
    “If you want my help, just ask for it.”
    He arched a brow. “Who says that’s what I want?”
    “Why else are you forcing yourself into my life?”
    “Maybe I just like spending time with you.”
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