Collector's Item by Denise Golinowski Page B

bed to hold out his hand. “I’m Colonel Brilling of the Protectorate and, no, Ms. Marant, you’re not interrupting anything.”
    KT shook Ham’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Colonel. My father speaks highly of your leadership of this investigation.”
    She dropped his hand and crossed her arms over her chest, the motion speaking volumes of her private insecurity. “Have you heard anything about Torne or my Aunt Patricia?”
    Ham shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Marant, I have nothing new, but we’re working on it.” He turned back to Peyton. “I’ll speak to you later. I’ve got a few more visits to make before I head back to headquarters.”
    Peyton winced inwardly at the additional gleam in Ham’s gaze. Instead, he returned to Ham’s earlier comment and glared at his friend. “I don’t think a guard is necessary, Ham.”
    “Well, I do, and I outrank you.” Ham turned enough that KT wouldn’t see him as he waggled his eyebrows at Peyton. “I’ll check back later.”
    Unwilling to respond to Ham’s obvious goading, Peyton’s fingers clenched in his sheets, and Ham’s smile broadened. He turned to give a short bow to KT. “Again, a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Marant.”
    “Thank you, Colonel Brilling.”
    KT watched Ham leave before turning back to Peyton. “He seems nice, for an officer. A friend of yours?”
    Peyton wondered about the first part of her comment, but stuck with the question. “My superior.”
    “And a friend. He’s worried about you.” KT pushed the door slightly closed before she crossed the room and pulled off her coat to drape it over the back of the chair. “Father said they’re sending teams to search Torne’s properties.” She sat on the edge of the seat. “He’s going to call me as soon as he hears something.”
    “Your father is well-informed.”
    “He’s Anton Marant.” KT said it as if that explained everything, and Peyton had to admit that perhaps it did. She slid her hands down the fabric of her jeans, the nervous movement removing the last traces of the professional image she’d presented to Ham. Her smile relaxed along more natural lines and her shoulders loosened.
    She looked at him. “Did you rest well? You look better, sharper.”
    “Amazing what a good night’s rest and a shave can do.” A man could lose himself in eyes that dark and that open. “Doc said just one more day and I’m out of here.”
    KT’s gaze flickered before she looked away. “That’s good. I’m sure you’re raring to get back into the hunt.”
    Peyton grunted. “Damn fool doctors. I should have been out of here today.”
    “Well, I suspected confinement would be getting to you, so I have a proposition for you.” She turned and dug through the pockets of her coat. The fabric of her shirt pulled tight across her torso, emphasizing the lines of her body.
    Don’t! Peyton caught Max before he could respond, though the jag’s reaction only echoed his own.
    KT straightened and held up an unopened pack of cards and two rolls of pennies. “I thought we’d wait together. I can’t stand sitting in the penthouse all day wondering, and I’m sure you’re not a daytime soaps fan. So, do you play?”
    She bent her head and ran one fingernail along the seam to split the cellophane. A lock of blue-black hair fell forward to mask her face, the dark mass of waves accented the ivory curve of her cheek.
    He fought off a desire to reach out and push the hair aside. He settled for a quick laugh. “I’m a soldier. Of course, I play cards. Question is, do you play blackjack?”
    She looked up and smiled, a flash of white that shot straight to his groin. “Not yet.”

Chapter Ten
    Morning stretched into afternoon, nurses bustled in and out of Peyton’s room doing annoying nurse things, and still, no word.
    KT resisted the urge to glance at her phone, again. What was taking so long? She compared her cards, an ace and a deuce “in the hole” with four and ten showing, to Peyton’s