Page 17 of Finding Amanda

"No. Absolutely not."

Her words were worse than any physical blow. "I just want to protect you."

A pause. "I'm sorry." For the first time in a long time, she actually sounded sorry. "I know you're worried. I'm sharing a room with Susie. There's nowhere for you to stay. And I really will be fine."

He stared at his splayed hand. "Fine. Whatever. Just . . . please be careful. I know you don't think he'll hurt you, but if what Alan says is true, it sounds like he was already aggressive with you. If he knows about the memoir, you could be in danger."

He could picture her brushing her hair away from her face while she contemplated his words.

Finally, she spoke. "I'll stay away from the lobby. I'll use the buddy system. Will that make you feel better?"

"I guess so." As long as she didn't decide to be buddies with Alan.

CHAPTER FOUR

The bedside lamp illuminated a small circle of light, just enough that Amanda wouldn't trip over something and break an ankle walking to the bathroom. Or wake her roommate, who was sleeping off her migraine. The curtains blocked out the view and the damp night, and images flickered from the television. She'd turned the volume so low, it was barely audible. Not that she was interested in the fixer-upper show the TV had landed on when she'd tired of flipping through the channels. She'd lived the whole fixer-upper thing for over a year. She didn't need the reminder. Didn't matter anyway. Nothing would take her focus off her run-in with Gabriel.

She didn't want to think about that anymore. Seeing him had brought back raw emotions, that yucky feeling his touch always left on her skin. The shower hadn't helped. Even now as she hugged her sweater closer, she felt dirty. Grimy, like an old stove top, tacky from years of grease and neglect.

She'd thought writing the memoir had washed the filthiness away. Ten minutes with Gabriel, and she felt like that girl again.

She could just make out the various items on the bureauacross from her—some jewelry, a scarf, and a couple of books she'd picked up in the conference bookstore on the second floor. Other than personal items, the room looked like a thousand other hotel rooms in New York City.

Her stomach growled. Apparently half a latte wasn't a suitable substitute for dinner.

Susie snored.

Hungry as she was, she wasn't going anywhere tonight, not with Gabriel Sheppard skulking about. She hadn't thought it possible she could hate him more.

Thank God for Alan. After her conversation with Mark, Amanda had been anxious to get back to her room, to process it all. Alan had insisted on escorting her. Now, three hours later, the walls in this dark, gloomy space were closing in on her.

But she wouldn't leave. She couldn't. What if Gabriel found her again?

Resigned, she padded across the room in stocking feet, grabbed the leather-bound book the hotel provided, and carried it back to the bed, where she sat propped against the pillows and found the room service menu. What a joy. She could get a dry cheeseburger and soggy fries for twenty-five dollars or a lousy pizza for twenty.

As she reached for the telephone, someone knocked at her door.

Her hand froze. Maybe . . . maybe the knock was on her neighbor's door. She climbed off the bed and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. If it was Gabriel, what would she do? Call 9-1-1? No, she'd call the lobby. And tell them . . . what?

A second knock sounded, louder.

Cold fear slithered down her spine. She tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole. Not Gabriel. She watched a distorted Alan check his watch. She turned the handle and pulled the door open.

"Hey."

Amanda put her finger to her lips. "Shh. My roommate's asleep." She stepped outside the room, leaving her foot in the door so she wouldn't get locked out.

Alan smiled. "I thought I'd check on you. You look . . ." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Did I scare you?"

She shrugged. "Not your fault." Amanda ran shaking fingers through her hair, wondering what she looked like after an hour spent propped against pillows. "You mostly surprised me."

"I wanted to make sure you're okay. Are you going to dinner with your roommate?"

Amanda looked behind her at the door and turned back to Alan. "I don't think so. I was about to order room service."

"Well, I happen to know a great Italian place right down the street. If you don't mind getting a little wet, you could join me. I hate to think of you trapped in your room all night."

"It's okay. I don't need a babysitter."

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