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eyes. The last was a must in his opinion, even for a temporary liaison. As he’d matured, he’d decided that sexual partners should be as stimulating out of bed as in—which probably had something to do with his long bout of abstinence.

Holding her gaze, he allowed an inviting smile to lift one corner of his mouth. Color flooded her cheeks and her eyes widened. She looked away, fumbling at the keyboard. “Yes, well, if you’ll give me just a minute, I’ll, um, have you checked in and can show you to your room.”

Okay, so she was either shy or not interested, he thought. Or maybe he was so out of practice at smiling that he’d snarled at her instead. He knew his expressions could be intimidating at times, but the dark scowls were supposed to scare off blood-sucking leeches, not potential lovers.

Although, watching Allison St. Claire, he became almost relieved at her lack of interest. The woman had an aura of basic goodness that pegged her as the marrying kind. Which was not what he was looking for. Too bad. He would have enjoyed discovering the body beneath that dress.

“I, um...” A frown puckered her brow. “I see you reserved the room with a credit card, but some information’s missing. Do you have the card on you?”

“Certainly.” He knew exactly what information was missing—his last name. He’d intentionally rattled the person who took his reservation so he wouldn’t have to give it. A last-minute impulse to pay for the whole trip with cash made him hesitate slightly before reaching for his wallet. He missed the privacy of those days when he’d first changed his name and, to the world, he’d been Scott Nobody.

Resigned, he laid the card on the desk... and knew the moment she read the name.

“Scott Lawrence?” Her gaze shot up and awe filled her eyes. “The Scott Lawrence?”

He nodded curtly, disappointed at how quickly her chilly demeanor melted away.

“Oh my.” A brilliant smile lit her face. The smile made her positively breathtaking, dammit. Why couldn’t she have given him that smile before she knew his name? “I love your books!” she said. “All suspense novels really—the more hair-raising the better—but your books are some of my favorites! I know, you probably hear that all the time, but I can’t tell you how often you’ve kept me up all night biting my nails.” She leaned forward, her face glowing. “I especially like how you throw ordinary people into so much danger, and have them win over such impossible odds. You’re a fabulous storyteller.”

“Thank you.” He frowned, surprised that someone so innocent-looking would actually have read his gritty suspense-thrillers.

“Oh goodness.” Still smiling, she entered his name into the computer. “This is so exciting. Our first national celebrity. I can’t wait to tell Adrian, he’s my brother, and another big fan of yours. He’s going to be so jealous that I met you first.”

A weary sigh escaped Scott as he took back his credit card. He could already hear it coming, all the predictable questions people asked when they met a writer.

“So”—her gaze flickered to the case for his lap top— “are you going to write a book while you’re staying here?”

“Not a book. Just a proposal.” A seriously past-due proposal. And if he could manage to even start one, he’d be grateful to the writing gods.

She lowered her voice. “You know, I’ve always wondered, where do writers get their ideas?”

He nearly laughed, not just because that was the biggie—the number one most frequently asked question— but because at that moment he desperately wished he knew the answer. Instead he gave her his best deadpan look. “Personally, I order mine online from Plots.com.”

She covered her mouth as laughter danced in her eyes. “Sorry. I guess that was a silly question.”

“Not silly, just common.” He gave her a lopsided smile.

She retrieved a sheet from the printer and laid it before him. “Here, if you’ll sign this, we’ll be done.”

Setting the computer case down, he leaned over the desk to review the room charges. Alli had barely a moment to study him unobserved. Though his smile had faded, its effect lingered, for it had transformed the aloof expression of his wickedly handsome face into something that bordered on... mischief. Not boyish mischief, though. It was too carnal for that.

The look in his eyes as his gaze held hers had sent flutters of alarm rioting through her system. For a second, she’d thought he was flirting with her. Except men never flirted with her. They flirted with her sister, Aurora, all the time—not that Rory ever noticed—but Allison they treated with utmost respect or sisterly affection.

Then she’d seen his name, realized who he was, and knew she was being foolish. Someone as exciting as Scott Lawrence would hardly notice a background fixture like her. He was just being kind when he smiled. What a relief. And what a thrill to finally see what he looked like! His books never had an author photo in the back and the short bios revealed little about him.

As he signed the form with swift, bold strokes, her gaze skimmed over his short, dark hair and closely trimmed beard. He was younger than she expected for someone who’d achieved so much success, early thirties perhaps, and very fit for a man with a sedentary occupation. The short-sleeved black shirt and tan slacks accentuated his broad shoulders, narrow hips—

He straightened abruptly, and his whiskey-colored eyes caught her in mid-gawk. That sardonic brow of his lifted and she realized the beard did nothing to soften the razor-sharp edges of his face.

Her cheeks heated as she took the printout and set it aside. “Well then, I’ll um... just show you to your room.” She retrieved a key ring from a drawer and came around the desk to hand it to him. Oh my, he was taller than she’d first realized. Not as tall as Adrian, who was well over six feet, but he definitely towered over her less-than-impressive height. “My brother

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