Sizzle and Burn by Jayne Ann Krentz Page A

her up and carried her to the bed.
    Thirteen
    She came awake to the insistent ringing of the room phone. Without opening her eyes she reached out and groped for the receiver.
    Her hand collided with a solid masculine shoulder.
    She did open her eyes then. Fast. She also sat bolt upright in bed, startled panic snapping through her.
    “What?” she managed. The single word came out as a squeak.
    “Take it easy.” Zack levered himself up on one elbow and regarded her with sleepy-eyed amusement. “It’s me. You do remember me, don’t you? The guy who was rolling around on the floor with you last night?”
    Reality and memories crashed through her. Mortified, she knew she was flushing a deep red.
    “Sorry,” she mumbled, snatching up her glasses. “I was a little disoriented.”
    Damned if she would tell him that she wasn’t accustomed to waking up to a man in her bed. It was bad enough that she had let him know she’d never had an orgasm with one until last night.
    “Don’t worry,” he said, yawning. “You’ll get used to it. You want to answer that phone?”
    She had her glasses on now. It dawned on her that the phone was still warbling.
    “Right,” she said briskly. “The phone.”
    The instrument was on the table on his side of the bed. To get to it she would have to reach across him. She went blank again at the prospect.
    Amused, he picked up the receiver and handed it to her.
    “Yes?” She held the phone as though she had never before had one in her hand.
    “Miss Tallentyre? This is Burton at the front desk. Sorry if I woke you but I wanted to let you know there’s a police detective on his way up to see you. I tried to make him wait until I called you but the sonofa—I mean the guy flashed a badge at me and headed for the stairs. Cops always act like they own the world, y’know?”
    Burton sounded even more nervous than usual.
    She forced herself to concentrate. “Is it Chief Langdon?”
    “No. Guy said his name is Mitchell. Detective from Oriana. Says he knows you.”

“Bradley?” She stared at the wall on the far side of the room, trying to wrap her mind around the name. “Here?”
    “I just told you, his name is Mitchell, not Bradley.”
    “Right. Thank you.”
    She handed the phone back to Zack. He took it, one brow raised, and gently replaced the receiver.
    “Company?” he asked neutrally.
    “Yes. Bradley Mitchell.”
    “The Oriana detective you’ve been working with?”
    “Uh-huh.” She pushed the bedding aside and swung her feet to the floor. “For some reason, I seem to be very popular all of a sudden.”
    “You’ll be even more popular if you answer the door dressed like that,” Zack observed drily.
    She glanced down and discovered that she was stark naked. “Oh, damn.”
    She grabbed her robe and hastily pulled it on. Zack uncoiled from the bed with an easy, masculine grace. He was wearing his briefs. Crossing the room, he picked up his black T-shirt and trousers.
    She scurried into the bathroom and checked herself in the mirror. The disheveled creature gazing back at her looked as if she had just climbed out of bed after a night of extremely hot sex. She ran a brush through her hair but that didn’t do much to alter the impression.
    A knock sounded on the door.
    “I’ll get it,” Zack said a little too casually. “Take your time.”
    She rushed to the bathroom doorway but he was already on his way to the door, anticipation flowing off him in palpable waves. She noticed he had put on his leather jacket. When she glanced at the bedside table she saw that the gun and holster were gone. The testosterone level in the room was suddenly off the charts.
    She went into full deer-in-the-headlights mode. Was letting Zack answer the door a good idea or a really bad one?
    Then her head miraculously cleared and she suddenly felt extremely cheerful.
    Letting Zack answer the door was an excellent notion.
    She turned and went back into the bathroom.
    “Thank you,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll just be a minute.”
    She closed the door,