“This is Nieves Romero, Roy. She passed out in the bar, and I’m taking her to bed. Not my bed. Is that really what you think of me?”

“Of course not,” Charlie said.

“You are the Wolfe of Manhattan.” This from Roy.

“I can be the Wolfe of Manhattan without preying on the defenseless. Damn.” I walked into the still-open elevator.

“Hey, bro, I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, you did,” I said as the elevator doors closed, erasing Roy and Charlie from my view. No, I didn’t actually believe my brother thought so little of me. I was just pissed at this situation.

I arrived at my suite and laid Nieves on the bed in the second bedroom. Thank goodness Jarrod or Charlie or whoever had made these reservations had booked us all in two bedroom suites. I did not want to sleep on a couch tonight.

First things first. I removed the wristlet bag hanging from Nieves’s hand and unzipped it. A credit card, a couple bucks, and her ID. No hotel room key. All right. No problem. I reassessed my decision to let her sleep in my extra bedroom, made a quick call to the front desk, and booked her a room. Then I carried her to it, met a concierge there, and put her to bed.

Nicely done, I said to myself. This way she’d wake up somewhere other than my suite. As much as I’d enjoy a good fuck, I wanted to deprive myself for now.

So I’d be hungrier for Zee tomorrow night.

I needed to be in full Wolfe mode to get her into my bed, and I planned to do it.

Oh, I’d stay loyal to Riley. I wouldn’t push. No. I’d seduce Zee slowly. In fact, I’d wait. It didn’t have to happen tomorrow. It could happen the next day. The hungrier I got, the better I’d seduce her.

I’d make her want me.

When she wanted me, she’d want to please me.

And I’d convince her that the way to please me would be to tell her story.

Simple enough.

Back in my suite, I stripped off my clothes and went to bed in my boxer briefs. To my surprise, I fell asleep to visions of a black-haired beauty with immensely sad light-blue eyes.

I jerked upward in bed.

Someone was pounding on my door. My phone lay on the nightstand, flashing the time. Six a.m.

Certainly not Rock. He wasn’t an early riser. Riley and Matt were still on their wedding night. Ditto Roy and Charlie.

Had I ordered breakfast? Yeah, I had, but room service wouldn’t be pounding. I grabbed a robe from the bathroom, headed to the door, and looked through the peephole.

“Nieves,” I said under my breath.

Against my better judgment, I opened the door.

She blew past me and into my suite. “Nice try.”