Page 12 of Hidden Resolution

Damn the man and all his sexy energy.

While they waited for management and local police to conduct their investigation, she wrapped herself in silence. Mason said little, standing like a sentinel at her side.

Nothing appeared to be missing, and the officers were less than impressed with her story. Their polite disbelief was infuriating.

“There’s no sign of forced entry. You probably forgot to lock up,” one said with a tight smile.

She bristled and tamped down the desire to punch his smug face.

“Ididlock up,” she replied through clenched teeth. “I’m a responsible adult who knows how to secure a fucking door.”

“We’ll make a note of the incident,” another offered, kinder but just as dismissive as his partner. “If anything happens again, please call.”

“Yeah, sure,” she snapped, stalking forward to see them out. “I’d absolutely love it if you came back and condescended some more.”

Shonda slammed the door behind them with more force than strictly necessary. It helped. A little. Smashing things would’ve made her happier. She shifted on her heel and froze.

Mason was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His face was unreadable.

“You think I made this up, too?” She stormed closer, working up the nerve to tell him to go to hell.

“No,” he said evenly. “Not in the least.”

Under his watchful gaze, her rage cooled.

“Why should you believe me when they didn’t?” she asked curiously.

“I couldn’t sleep last night. When I stepped outside, I glanced over to see if your lights were still on. From what I could see, everything was shut up tight.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything to the police?” she demanded, circling back to pissed off.

“It wouldn’t have done any good,” he said matter-of-factly. “They weren’t interested once they’d discovered nothing valuable was taken.”

Shonda dropped into a chair, deflating. “So that’s it? Some fucker breaks in, and no one gives a shit?”

He pushed off the wall to stand directly in front of her chair. His intensity lit her nerve endings.

“Want to tell me why someone would break into your suite, leave everything untouched, and vanish, Shonda?”

“How the hell should I know?”

His eyes sharpened. “Don’t lie to me.”

Her throat tightened, and it was hard to push “never” from between numb lips. What was wrong with people? Did they view everyone they met with suspicion? Was that what the world had come to, a lack of trust?

More than a dozen heartbeats later, albeit fast ones on her part, he nodded once. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

“Why don’t you tell me why you think someone would break into your room and not take anything?”

Mason didn’t wait for Shonda to get comfortable. Catching her off guard was the point, and judging by the flush creeping into her cheeks, she wasn’t happy about it. Too bad. He needed to know what kind of mess he’d walked into by agreeing to play pretend-boyfriend.

“I told you back in the room. I have no idea.”

He wanted to believe her. God, did he ever. But in his experience, women danced around the truth.

Wide, earnest eyes stared at him, and her lips parted as if she might spill secrets if pressed. Even the slight lean of her body toward him screamed honesty. Which meant this situation just went from bad to worse.

“Technically, you said, ‘How the hell should I know?’ Which, if we’re being honest, speaks of avoidance,” he countered.