Ruthless

Chapter 13

There was probably a special sort of asylum to house people as crazy as me. Jean stared up at Colin's ceiling.

She didn't know what time it was. Didn't know where her cell phone was or whether Colin even had a clock at his place. The only thing she really knew was that she'd completely come on to him before she went to bed.

Why? There hadn't been any Mark there to make jealous. No crazy assassin around to make her want to hide behind Colin's mouth. Just her and Colin and her stupid, sleep-deprived brain. Of course, Colin had turned her down, which could've been an insult or a blessing. Probably both.

He'd seemed as if he wanted her. Hell, he told her that if she went up to him today and asked, he'd have her...well, he said he wasn't opposed to the idea. Oh God.

Jean pulled her pillow out from under her and covered her face with it. She didn't need any crazy killers to break into the room. She was about to die of embarrassment.

"Get up. We need to get leaving in half an hour."

Colin knew she was awake. Fantastic. What kind of person lived in a house without walls? Her trailer could hardly be called a house, but at least the bedroom was separate from everything else.

"I'm good to just hang out here for like...forever."

"Is that an invitation for me to join you?"

Jean popped up and sat stock-straight. Colin, wiping his face with a towel, stood at the foot of the bed, wearing jeans and no t-shirt. She thought she'd heard him shaving...

"Do you have something against clothes?" she asked with a slight hint of bitterness. Damn him and his beautiful body. And damn her for touching it last night...

"Hey, I'm all for equal rights. Feel free to walk around topless as much as you want."

"I think I'll pass on that offer."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. But I'd recommend getting up. Not sure how long it's going to take you to get ready."

She mentally ran through the list. Shower, teeth, makeup... Probably more than half an hour. Which meant she did have to get out of the bed and face the day. At least Colin was back to his normal asshole self and wasn't rubbing what happened last night in her face. Unless she counted him walking around without a shirt as rubbing it in, and she was going to assume he wasn't doing it on purpose to torture her.

"I'm going," she said as she got up, groaning at the feel of her pants cutting into her waist. Another reason she normally slept in just her panties, but that wasn't really an option for last night—even if she had been conscious enough to do anything.

Though her pajama shorts would've been nice. Jean hopped up and ran into the bathroom, speeding through her morning routine. By the time she emerged from the bathroom, she started to feel more like her normal self. And more like she could actually face the day.

"Are you about ready to go?" asked Colin as she pulled on her boots over her black leggings. He wore dark-brown cargo pants and a black Henley today. He always seemed to look as if he were a few steps away from getting onto a helicopter and flying off to some war-torn country.

"Almost. Have you seen my phone?" She didn't want to mention the haze she'd been in last night, but she really needed that before she left.

"I plugged it in last night. It's on the counter."

"On the counter next to the coffee machine?" she asked hopefully.

"No coffee here. But it's Manhattan. You can get coffee every hundred feet."