Marrying Mccabe

Not that anything like that was about to happen. He was already walking a knife’s edge with his client, and when she heard what he was about to say, it was more likely she would slug him than allow him to touch her in any way.

‘‘There’s just one more thing,’’ he said softly. ‘‘You can’t have that room.’’

Her eyes narrowed. McCabe watched her closely, reluctantly fascinated by every nuance of expression. He knew Roma’s brothers as well as if they were his own family. Gray and Blade were both big, male, muscled—capable of pounding most other men into the dirt without breaking a sweat. Not that they brawled; they didn’t need to. Gray and Blade had always fought with intellect and technical skill as much as with the physical power of their bodies; they were warriors in every sense of the word.

Idly, he wondered how Roma would fight. Dirty, he decided—suppressing a grin. He could see her temper now, simmering just below the surface. Her skin had taken on a luminous glow, and her eyes flashed, dark and slumbrously exotic, as if she would go for the kill in a deceptively lazy feminine way that would flummox most men. They wouldn’t know she’d sunk the knife in until hours later, maybe days.

Then again, maybe not…

Suddenly he could see the resemblance to her brothers in her cheekbones, the strength in the line of her jaw, that fierce Lombard pride.

His lids lowered. No, Roma Lombard wouldn’t bother with manipulation or veiled insults, or even that female version of brawling, a sissy slap. An unholy excitement pulsed through him. She would just out and out slug him.

She didn’t bother to hide her incredulity. ‘‘Did you just say,’’ she said slowly, ‘‘that I can’t have this room?’’

‘‘You heard right.’’

‘‘Which room can I have?’’ she enquired with icy politeness.

He felt like saying ‘‘Mine’’ but pulled back from that precipice. ‘‘You can have the one through the adjoining bathroom. It’s more secure. This bedroom’s wide open in terms of access, with the terrace doors, and the doors leading into the bathroom and living area.’’

For long seconds she didn’t move, didn’t respond in any way, but instead of exploding as he expected her to, her expression smoothed out, becoming as controlled and remote as it had been at the airport. ‘‘All right.’’

She met his gaze coolly, although her cheeks were flushed, then astounded him by running her gaze down over his chest, his belly, stopping at his groin. He felt as though she’d just run her hand over him.

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