Can't Buy Me Love: Romantic Comedy (Sinclair Sisters Trilogy Book 3)

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  “I ordered them my first week in the job. Their delivery just happened to coincide with my plan.”

  “Your plan to trap a thief using soap?”

  She ignored him. “I have the de Jong room set up as a trap and a stock cupboard full of top-rate goodies. Now, we just have to wait.” She looked up at him. “This is the part I hate. I thought if I had snacks and caffeine, it would be fine. But this is duller than dishwater. I can actually feel my brain atrophy as I sit here. How do cops do this?”

  “Generally, they sleep during the day, so they can stay awake at night.” He reached for a bag of salted nuts, popped it open and took a handful. “Plus, cops tend to work in pairs, which means they have someone to talk to and keep them awake. Then there’s the radio. Never underestimate a good late-night DJ. And there’s peeing in a bottle. That kills a good five minutes.” The sparkle in his eye said he was messing with her again. At least one of them was having fun.

  “Peeing in a bottle? I’m guessing your partner was male too. Makes me wonder how you even managed to stretch that to five minutes.”

  “Too much coffee.” He passed the bag of nuts to her. “What I’m wondering is what you thought you’d do with a thief if one turned up. You were going to call the cops, right?”

  “What else would I do?” Did he think she was stupid?

  “Confront them?”

  Well, that answered that—he did think she was dumb. “Don’t let the blonde hair fool you.” She tapped the side of her head. “There’s a brain in here.”

  At this point in the conversation, most men would have backtracked. But Logan wasn’t most men. “I asked around about you. Seems you have a hot temper and a violent streak rigged with a hair-trigger. I was worried you’d react without thinking and get hurt.”

  “Because I’m a woman?”

  The idiot nodded. “Well, that, and you’re a small woman. Which, let’s face it, is a problem if the thief is bigger than you, and from what I can see, most people are bigger than you. It’s a disadvantage in an attack.”

  Oh, that infamous hot temper of hers was flaring up for sure. “Did you ever work with women when you were on the force? And what about at Benson Security? I know they have women security specialists. Do you tell all of your female colleagues to step back and let the big, strong man handle the situation?”

  “No. They’d kick my arse.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But they’ve been trained. Have you been trained? Do you know how to handle yourself in a fight?”

  “What? I have to pass some sort of test to satisfy you that I have the skills to catch a soap thief?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “No, you just said that I’m tiny, defenseless and incapable of making the decision to call the police rather than tackle a bad guy all on my own.”

  He seemed to think about that for a second. “This conversation isn’t going the way I thought it would. I’m just trying to tell you that I’m here because I was worried about you.”

  “Because I’m too dumb to stay out of a situation that could hurt me?”

  “I really didn’t say that.”

  Agnes was done with this conversation. She stood and pushed the chair and coffee table back against the wall to make space beside the bed. Then, hands on the hips of her gray yoga pants, she faced Logan. “Come on, attack me. If you dare.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not going to hurt you just to prove a point.”

  “Why? I have no problem hurting you to prove mine.”

  “Agnes…”

  “Don’t Agnes me. Get moving.” She pointed at the red tartan floor in front of her.

  “No. We’re not doing this.”

  “Chicken.” She made clucking noises. “Scared of a tiny, wee woman.”

  “Mature.” He heaved a sigh. “Okay. If this will make you see reason, I’ll play along.” With clear reluctance, he stood in front of her. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”

  “Thanks.” Like he had a chance! “Now attack me.”

  Without warning, he lunged at her, his right hand going for her arm. Agnes grabbed his wrist, yanked him toward her, slammed the heel of her hand into his nose, and released him.

  “What the hell?” he barked as he covered his bloody nose. “I think you broke it.”

  Agnes waited for guilt to set in, but it didn’t manifest. “Don’t be a baby.” She strode through to the bathroom and wet a washcloth for him. “And don’t get blood on the bed. It would be murder to get out of those white sheets. Aim for the floor. No one will notice a stain on this carpet.”

  Logan pressed the cloth to his nose. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  Rolling her eyes at him, she dug out some ice from the mini-fridge. “Here, put this in the cloth. It will help with the swelling.”

  “What kind of woman pulls her attacker to her?” He took the ice, wrapped it in the cloth and gently pressed it to his nose.

  “One who knows how to defend herself.”

  With a shake of his head, he strode into the bathroom. Agnes sat on the end of the bed watching the screens—where nothing was happening—and finishing the nuts. It was a good job they’d already talked about how pointless a relationship between them would be, because bloodying Logan’s nose was probably a deal-breaker on the romance front.

  The nuts were gone, and she’d started on the Pringles by the time Logan came out of the bathroom. His nose was swollen and red, but otherwise he didn’t seem too upset. Sitting beside her, he took the Pringles out of her hands.

  “It isn’t broken,” he said as he ate one.

  “I pulled my punch.” Which was true. She totally could have broken his nose if she’d wanted. “I could also have kneed you in the balls while you were whining. I think I should get points for not following through.”

  “Appreciated.” He returned the Pringles. “Where did you learn to fight?”

  She shrugged. “I grew up in a rough neighborhood.”

  In silence, they stared at the screens for a few minutes. Adrenaline had left Agnes wide awake, and now she was a little unsure about how to deal with the man in her room.

  “Is it wrong that I’m a tad turned on right now?” Logan said at last, giving her a slow, sexy smile. “That was seriously hot. It makes me want to spar with you some more. Only this time, I won’t go easy on you.”

  She couldn’t help her answering smile or the warmth that spread throughout her at his comments. “You still wouldn’t stand a chance,” she boasted.

  “You’re a fascinating woman, Agnes Sinclair.” He held out his hand for more Pringles and she gave him some.

  “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have gotten more snacks.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said as he leaned back onto his elbows, his eyes still on the screens. “I hear you know the new code to the kitchen, and Chef’s made coffee walnut cake for tomorrow’s lunch crowd. You know, it would be easier if we put sensors on the doors. That way, if someone opened them, an alarm would sound on our phones.”

  “And we could sleep.” Relief flooded her. “Do you have sensors at the security shop?”

  “Aye.” He continued staring at the screen.

  Agnes gave him less than a minute before she lost patience. “Are you going to get them or what?”

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “And you’re awake anyway.”

  With a sigh, he dragged himself off the bed. “You are hard work, Agnes Sinclair,” he said, making her feel inordinately proud. Once he’d put his jacket back on, he held out his hand. “Gimme your keys, and I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” she called after him.

  Five minutes after the door closed, Agnes decided her wait would be more comfortable if she lay down. Thirty seconds after that, she was sound asleep.

  Chapter 9

  Agnes’ first thought when she woke was that she’d set the heating too high because the room was roasting. Her second thought
was that the bed was much harder than she remembered. No, not harder, firmer. More muscular. Blinking open bleary eyes, she looked up to find Logan’s dark gaze fixed on her.

  “For a tiny person, you take up a lot of bed,” he said softly.

  There was only fog where her brain should be. “I’m five foot ten in my head.”

  “Good to know,” he whispered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  Slowly, she became aware of the reality of her situation. While her legs were still on the mattress, the rest of her was on top of Logan. And it felt good. The heat from his body seeped into her, warming even the coldest parts deep within.

  “Why are you in my bed?” Her voice came out as a sleepy rasp.

  “Technically, we’re on the bed, not in it. When I came back after rigging sensors to the doors, you were out cold.” Unlike hers, his soft voice sounded low and sexy. Intimate. It made her want to close her eyes again and drift away while listening to him.

  “And you just decided to lie down beside me?”

  “I was watching the monitors, but, about four o’clock, you wrapped yourself around me and pulled me back onto the bed. Then you climbed on top of me, mumbled something about central heating and fell asleep. It seemed rude to move you.”

  “Huh.” Agnes frowned, confused. “Did the thief turn up?” Had she slept through it? Had Logan let her?

  “Not yet.” His fingertips traced down her cheek to her jaw, making her skin tingle in their wake. He watched their progress, his attention absolute.

  She groaned and thumped her forehead on his chest. “We need different plan. I can’t spend another night watching security footage, hoping the thief will show.”

  “Agnes, love, you haven’t spent even one night watching the feeds. And there was no we. This plan was all your idea. Anyway, now that the doors are rigged, you can sleep until the alarm wakes you.” He caressed her hair. “Did you know you sleep curled up like a cute little kitten? And you purr.”

  Her head shot back up, and she glared at him. “I don’t purr.” The thought of it was completely outrageous. She was fierce. If she made any noise at all, it would be a roar.

  “Well, technically, it’s snoring. But it’s still adorable.” His thumb traced the outline of her lips, building a slow warmth deep inside of her.

  “When I’m more awake, I’m going to get you back for that comment.”

  “I’ll make sure to wear protective gear.”

  That reminded her of his nose. “Is it sore?”

  “Just a bit swollen.” His eyes sparkled at her. “I have other concerns right now.”

  “I feel bad about hitting you.” No, that wasn’t strictly true. “I mean, I feel I should feel bad about hitting you, and I feel guilty that I don’t.”

  A slow, teasing smile curled his lips. “If it helps, you could kiss it better.”

  One of his hands curved around her shoulder, and she felt the slow caress of his other hand on her back. The blue light from the screens cast his features in soft shadow, but that didn’t detract from the sheer maleness of him. In the back of Agnes’ sleep-dulled brain, there was a weak reminder that she didn’t want to start anything with Logan. That there were complications that could bite them both in the rear. But in that moment, none of those sensible arguments for caution meant very much. As desire seeped into her fog-ridden head, all she could think about was the feeling of Logan’s body under hers. And it was wonderful.

  She wriggled farther up his chest, putting one hand flat on the bed beside his head. With the other, she cupped his cheek and gently traced the edge of his nose with her thumb. She wasn’t sorry she’d hit him. So she couldn’t apologize with any honesty, but she found that she didn’t like to see him injured. And it made her uncomfortable to think she’d been the cause of it. It was as though she’d suddenly developed a conscience overnight, and it was…unpleasant.

  Slowly, Agnes leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. His hands flexed on her body, making her breath hitch as she made little butterfly kisses across the bridge of his nose.

  “Better?” she whispered, sounding faintly breathless.

  “My cheekbone took a bit of a whack too,” he rumbled.

  She kissed across his cheekbones, first one, then the other, making sure she didn’t miss anything. His hold on her tightened as he pulled her firmly against him.

  “We done now?” she asked, when she looked into those dark eyes of his.

  “My lips. You smacked them on the way to my nose.”

  “Poor baby,” she whispered. “You really suffered.”

  “It was terrible,” he whispered back. “But I’m sure you kissing them better will help.”

  “Seems the least I can do.” And with that, Agnes brushed her lips against his.

  That’s all it took. Just one, gentle touch, lips to lips, breathing each other’s air, and she was free-falling. The room, the hotel, the ground beneath them, it all faded away. She became lost in the moment. In the feeling of Logan’s lips teasing hers. Of hers teasing his. It was a slow, thorough tasting. Kiss, after kiss, after kiss. Each one more drugging than the last.

  Her fingers threaded through his hair. His hand clasped her nape. A moan. A sigh. Tongues tangled with groans of need. The world tipped and turned until she was on her back with Logan’s weight pressing into her, their legs entwined, their arms enfolding each other. The taste of him took her far away. To a place with fragrant meadows. Where, in the dark nights of summer, the warmth of the day would enclose her as the stars appeared like a blanket overhead. A haven of heady sensuality, just for her. Somewhere she didn’t have to think, where she only had to feel. A place where she felt safe.

  Until the beeping intruded.

  With clear reluctance, Logan broke their kiss. Dark eyes, filled with a stunned need, stared into her soul.

  “Damn,” he groaned, before pressing his mouth back over hers.

  The beeping grew louder, forcing them to separate once again, gasping for breath, hearts racing.

  “What is it?” Agnes found the words difficult to form. She wanted to be kissing, not talking.

  Logan pressed his forehead to hers. “The sensors on the doors, someone’s just triggered one of them.”

  “Doors?” His weight was delicious, pressing her into the bed. Solid, strong, secure. Sexy. Oh so sexy. Her fingers massaged his shoulders of their own volition. She wanted skin, not cotton, under her touch.

  “The trap you set, remember?” His smile was amused, but his eyes held only heat. “The thief,” he added.

  “The thief?” The angles of his face were fascinating in the cool blue light that filled the room. The light from the monitors. With the security feeds…

  “The thief!” The memory was a bucket of cold water over her head.

  Agnes shoved his shoulders, and he rolled off her. She scrambled to her knees and crawled to the end of the bed, adrenaline coursing through her. The door to the store cupboard stood open.

  “What time is it?” she demanded, feeling far more awake now.

  “Almost seven.”

  “Someone’s in the cupboard.” She glanced beside her to see Logan sitting on the side of the bed, pulling on his boots.

  “Could be the cleaning staff.”

  “They aren’t due for another hour. The only staff in this early are the ones who work in the kitchen.”

  Logan rounded the bed and came to stand beside her. “Do any of them have keys to that cupboard?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  He ran a hand over her hair and smiled wryly. “Get sorted, and we’ll go see who it is. It’s either that or I tumble you back onto the bed, and we forget about the thief.”

  Damn, but that was tempting. She must have spent too long considering her options because Logan chuckled as he took her hand and tugged her from the bed.

  “Shoes, and whatever else you think you need. You’ve got one minute. I’ll watch the monitors to make sure we don
’t miss them.”

  Agnes threw a sweater on over her camisole, slid into a pair of flip-flops, and tied her hair back in a messy bun. “Done. And in well under one minute.”

  “Come on then,” Logan said as he opened the door. “Let’s surprise your thief.”

  After one last glance back at the rumpled bed, they jogged out of the room and down the stairs.

  He was going to kill the thief, purely on the basis that their timing sucked. Logan’s jeans were uncomfortably tight and, with every step he took, he had to fight the urge to take Agnes back to bed. Aye, the thief had to die.

  Logan signaled to Agnes to keep behind him. She signaled back in her own unique way—by scowling, then pointing at her nose, then the heel of her hand, then at him. Guess she didn’t want to be protected. With a resigned shake of his head, he stepped in front of the open door. And groaned.

  “Who the hell are you?” Agnes demanded as she elbowed him out of the way.

  Logan looked toward heaven, muttering a desperate prayer for patience before he answered Agnes. “That’s Jean. She’s a friend of my mother’s. They’re in the same knitting group, and she shouldn’t be in the hotel store cupboard.”

  “Logan.” Jean beamed at him. “What are you doing here? And so early in the morning.” Her eyes went from him to Agnes, and her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, are you two a thing? Does your mother know? That was awfully fast—she’s only been here a couple of weeks.” She smiled at Agnes. “But from what I hear, you sound like an interesting hotel manager. Very…dedicated…” Her smile froze as she searched for something else to say. “You have nice skin,” she added at last.

  “Get out of the cupboard.” Agnes grabbed Jean’s arm and dragged her into the hallway.

  Jean held up a canvas tote with the words ‘Knit or Die’ emblazoned on it. “But I haven’t finished collecting my order.”

  “Oh, you’re finished all right.” Holding the woman’s upper arm, Agnes marched her downstairs toward her office.

  “I’ll take her,” Logan said. “You go get changed. Unless you want to do this in your pajamas.”

  Agnes glanced down at herself and seemed irritated that she was wearing her sleepwear. “I’ll be five minutes. Don’t let her escape.”