Chapter 49

When the door opened, I was almost surprised. After all, part of me hadn't really expected him to open up, at least not without some serious pounding and yelling first.

But now that he'd actually answered, I was utterly lost for words. And he didn't look particularly chatty himself – or thrilled to see me.

Silently, I stared up at him as he stood in the open doorway. He was fully dressed now, but not in the way I might've expected.

He'd ditched the slacks and was now wearing faded jeans, along with a gray T-shirt emblazoned with some university logo that I didn't recognize. The shirt wasn't tight, and yet, the thin cotton did little to hide the outlines of his defined pecs and bulging biceps.

At the sight of him, I felt unsettled and confused, even more than usual. Just like that day on his porch, he didn't look like a billionaire. He looked like an All-American golden boy, fresh from his senior year at college.

But he didn't look happy.

Finally, I found my voice. "That thing with the senator, what was that about?"

"Nothing," he said. "It's solved, so forget it."

As if I could. "But what happened?"

His gaze shifted to something behind me, and I turned to look. I saw nothing except the door to my own hotel room.

Was that a hint for me to leave? If so, he was in for a rude awakening, because I wasn't going anywhere until I had some answers.

I turned back to him and asked, "Is this really your hotel room?"

He gave me a look. "Every room is mine."

Technically, this was true, but he wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what I meant.

I pointed vaguely toward the interior of his room. "But you're not actually staying here, are you?"

"No." He glanced past me. "I'm heading out."

I made a sound of frustration. "Oh, come on. You're deliberately not understanding a single thing I'm asking."

And I hadn't even gotten to the hard questions.

"I understand you fine," he said. "But if you expect answers, you're in the wrong place."

"No," I told him, "I'm in the right place, because the person I need answers from is you, and this is where you are."

"Not for long," he said. "I'm flying back."

"You are? But we have those…" I gave a little gasp. "Oh, my God. The interview. The one with that morning show. We should've left already." I was nearly frantic now. "Hang on. Just let me grab my stuff."

"Forget it."

"You're right. There's no time. Should we just leave from…" I let my words trail off and looked to his clothes. "But wait. You're not dressed for it."

"Yeah. And I'm not gonna be."

"But what about the interview?" I asked.

He looked away. "Fuck the interview."

"What?"

"It's canceled."

I still wasn't following. "But who canceled it?"

"Carla."

And then I remembered. "She was trying to reach you. She said it was an emergency."

"Yeah. And it's handled. So forget it."

The more he talked, the less, I understood. "But if you were going to cancel, why would you have Carla call them?" I gave a shaky laugh. "After all, that's my job, isn't it?"

He was quiet for a long moment, and something in his gaze told me that I wasn't going to like whatever he was planning to say next.

Sure enough, his next words hit like a hammer. "You can't work for me anymore."

Of anything I'd been expecting, this wasn't even on my radar. "Why not?"

"You've gotta ask?"

"Yes." I lifted my chin. "Apparently, I do. Because I have no idea what's going on."

His gaze met mine. "Don't you?"

I sucked in a quiet breath. Something in his expression had changed. Gone was the familiar cold bastard, and in his place was the other Zane, the one I'd seen by the elevators – raw and ragged, like he might lose control any moment.

Suddenly, I was feeling a little out of control myself.

He loomed closer. "You wanna know what happened?"

My lips went dry, and I felt myself nod.

His gaze bored into mine. "That fucker – the senator – was camped out, waiting for you."

I felt my brow wrinkle. "He was? For how long?"

"Too long."

I got the point. Still, his reaction seemed a bit extreme. After all, it's not like the senator had been humping my doorknob or anything – I gave a shudder of disgust – at least, not that I knew of.

But what had he been doing? With a twinge of dread, I asked, "Is that all?"

Zane's mouth tightened. "You know it's not."

Oh, crap. So Zane knew what happened last night? Yes. He did. Now, I was absolutely sure of it.

Because I worked for the company, I knew a little something about the hotel's security. There was no shortage of surveillance cameras, especially in long hallways and near the elevators.

Obviously, Zane knew more than I'd originally thought. Reluctantly, I said, "So, you saw what happened last night? Between me and the senator, I mean?"

"That and other things." As he spoke, something in his tone suggested that if senator showed up now, he'd be dragged off a second time, and maybe chucked down the stairs for good measure.

I'd known Zane for months. He wasn't one to lose his cool. And yet, he had. Even now, he looked dangerously close to losing it again.

I winced. "He didn't hit on anyone else, did he?"

Zane looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Hit on? That's what you're gonna call it?"

I sighed. "All right, fine. Did he get grabby with anyone else?"

"Don’t know. Don’t care." His jaw tightened. "But I do care that he was bragging that he fucked you. And, he was–" Zane looked away. "–touching himself outside your room."