She hadn’t invited him to the hotel—and there was a strong possibility she’d shut the door in his face—but passing up an opportunity to see Cate alone, away from their role plays, had been impossible to resist.

Zeke took a deep breath and knocked on the door to her room.

Twenty eternal seconds ticked by.

Was she ignoring him . . . taking a Sunday afternoon nap . . . in the shower?

A delicious image of her wrapped in a towel flitted across his mind.

He erased it at once.

Inappropriate.

He was here to discuss business . . . or that would be his excuse if she ever opened the door.

And he did have an update to pass on. One that could have been handled by phone, true—but what fun was that?

He lifted his hand to knock again as a bolt turned on the other side and the door swung open.

Cate wasn’t wrapped in a towel—but her hair was.

The shower image resurfaced.

“Sorry.” He lowered his hand and redirected his thoughts. Again. “Looks like my timing wasn’t the best.”

“Why are you here?”

Not the most encouraging greeting.

“Case update.”

“You could have called.”

Impossible to deny.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

“I was.” To see her. But why admit that? “May I come in?”

After a tiny hesitation, she backed up and pulled the door wide.

He entered and gave the suite a sweep. With only one occupant versus three, fewer personal items were strewn about this week. Cate’s laptop was up and running on the table, suggesting it had been a working weekend rather than one devoted to rest and recuperation.

“So what do you have?” Cate positioned herself behind an upholstered chair and rested her hands on the back.

He didn’t miss the significance of the physical shield.

“Do you want to sit?” He motioned toward the couch.

“No.”

He called up a grin. “If you stand, I’ll have to do the same—and to be honest, I’d like to take the weight off my leg.”

Shooting him a narrow-eyed look, she circled the chair and sat. “I’d offer you a soda, but I doubt you’ll be here long enough to drink it.”

No subtleties about this woman.

She wanted him gone.

Because she’d decided she wasn’t willing to give him another chance—or because she didn’t want to risk another toe-curling kiss that could convince her otherwise?

His money was on the latter.

And since it was doubtful they’d have another excuse to be alone together in private until their cases wrapped, he had to maximize this opportunity. If a kiss was in the cards, great. If all they did was talk, he could live with that.