Then he dropped his hold. Colby stared up at him, fear flickering in his gaze. Good. The guy had gotten the message.
“I’m, um, sorry,” the dark-haired fellow began.
Noah whirled on him. “Who are you?”
“Vincent Finch. I’m the senator’s…I’m his manager.”
What the hell ever. “Keep him away, Finch, or go down with him.”
Noah turned on his heel and marched back into the hotel. Claire stood just a few feet in front of the elevator, exactly where she’d been moments before. Her head was down. When he looked closely, he could see that she was trembling.
Screw this.
He didn’t want Claire cowering from anyone or anything. People in the lobby were whispering as they gazed at her. He was pretty sure he’d even caught sight of a reporter with a camera. Gossip and D.C.—the two were always locked together.
Noah didn’t hesitate. He stalked right up to her. “Claire.”
Her head snapped up. “I-I’m sorry—”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Chapter Three
Shock froze Claire. Noah’s arms were around her, he had her pressed tightly to his body, and his mouth—
His mouth claimed hers.
Her lips had been parted when he kissed her. His tongue slipped inside her mouth. There was nothing hesitant about the way Noah kissed her. He just…took.
And ignited her.
Her hands rose. Curled around his shoulders. She should push him back. She should do something, anything but—
Pull him closer.
Kiss him back.
Fear and shame knotted within her, fighting with a tide of hot desire that caught her by surprise.
Noah’s hands were on her hips. Holding her so tightly and he was—
Pushing her into the elevator. Still kissing her, but guiding her movements.
She heard the elevator ding, and Claire pulled away from Noah. For a moment, she stared up at him, lost.
“Will that be all, sir?” The question came from the man standing near the elevator doors. He had his hand up and was holding the elevator open. Chuck Collins. Claire had met the hotel manager earlier. As she stared at him, Chuck cleared his throat and asked again, “Will that be all?”
Noah glanced over at him. “Not quite.” His words were low and lethal. “That ass**le never comes into the hotel again.”
Chuck nodded. “Understood.” Then he dropped his hand and the elevator doors slid closed.
Claire was still in Noah’s arms. Still shocked and lost and aching in a way she shouldn’t be.
“You can…you can let me go,” Claire managed to say.
Noah shook his head. His eyes were on her mouth. “I knew one taste wouldn’t be enough.”
It wasn’t enough for her, either. Noah tasted good. Very good. Good like the kind of wine Claire had when she saved her money and splurged. Not that she’d done any splurging, not in the last year. Like the wine, he also made her a little drunk.
“Ask me to kiss you again, Claire.”
He wanted to keep kissing her? After what had just happened in that lobby?
“Let me go.” She pushed against his chest. The elevator was rising, and she didn’t even remember Noah hitting the button on the control panel. But she knew where they were headed.
The top floor, of course. What she was thinking of as his floor.
The faint lines around his eyes deepened, but Noah let her go.
Claire rubbed her arms, chilled without him. “He shouldn’t have been here. I’m so sorry—”
“Apologize again, and I swear, Claire, you’ll push me too far.”
Her breath caught.
He nodded. “Good. Here’s the deal. Colby Harrison is your past, got it? He doesn’t matter. What he says…doesn’t matter.”
“But all of those people…they saw. They heard.” They’d all been staring at her. When she’d lived in Alabama, she hadn’t even been able to walk down the aisle at the grocery store without people stopping to stare and whisper.
Did you hear…that’s the girl…she seduced that poor boy…made him crazy…
Got him to kill her folks…
Claire shook her head as she tried to make those voices vanish. They’d haunted her for too long.
“I don’t care about those people.”
“It’s your business. Your hotel. You should care.” She’d been so worried about doing something to tarnish his image. And now…
“Scandal sells, baby, or haven’t you realized that?”
Claire flinched. She hated scandal. She wanted…secrecy.
The elevator doors opened.
“So much for dinner,” she muttered.
He caught her hand. Brushed his fingers over the ribbon on her right wrist. She’d learned to be creative over the years. When people saw the scars there, well, there was no mistaking them. You got scars on your wrist-those long, thin scars—from one act.
Claire had wanted to die when she was sixteen. When she stood at her parents’ graves, when it seemed that the whole world hated her, she’d wanted to escape.
To be with my mom and dad again.
People had spray painted her home. Written words like “whore” and “killer” on her windows. Senator Harrison had done a massive job on the local media. He’d worked so hard to convince everyone that his son was just the poor, misled boy.
And Claire was the evil seductress.
He’d told her, time and again, that she should be the one to suffer. The one to be punished.
I just wanted to escape.
The scars would always be there. She covered them so she didn’t have to see the curiosity, the pity, in the eyes of strangers.
“Come back to me.”
Claire blinked and focused on Noah.
He had lifted a dark eyebrow. “I told you, the past is over.” Anger pumped in his words. He pulled her toward his room. Not just a room. A suite. One as big as the place he had in New York.
He opened the door. Kept his hold on her and pulled her over the threshold. When the door closed behind them, Claire exhaled slowly as relief hit her.
Safe.
“He’s the reason, isn’t he?” Noah asked her. “The reason you lose your other jobs. The reason you move around the country so much.”
Claire nodded. Her gaze was on the D.C. skyline. She’d wanted to walk through the city at night.