"You usually work out? Or jog?"

"Both, but I can miss a day."

She watched him dig into what looked like cottage cheese. She closed her eyes. "Denver?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you do me a huge favor?" When she opened her eyes, she saw that he'd turned toward her and was waiting. "Please, will you go make use of the gym? Or at least jog?"

"You planning another shower?"

His teasing made her smile tiredly. "No." She yawned, sank a little deeper into the bed. "I'm going to doze and I'll feel better knowing I didn't completely ruin your day."

He pushed his chair back and came to sit on the side of the bed. "I like being here with you."

"Not like this."

"Even like this."

Could that be true? And if so, did that mean he actually cared for her? They had so much to work out, but first... "Please?"

Hesitation showed through his frown. "You promise to stay in bed?"

Since she didn't think she could move anyway, she nodded.

"All right. I'll finish eating then take off for an hour or so." He bent to put his forehead to hers. "Be good while I'm gone."

Soon as she got well, Cherry decided, she'd set him straight on his bossiness. But until then...yeah, sleep seemed like a very good idea.

CHAPTER SIX.

DENVER HAD TO ADMIT, the jog did him good. He'd still been tense from his clash with Cherry's supposed family. He hadn't gone too far from the hotel and he'd stayed alert while pushing himself, but he hadn't seen them anywhere when he left or when he returned. With a little luck, they'd taken his advice and split.

Most of the fight crowd had finally cleared out by the time he returned so he made it to their floor without getting stopped even once. Wearing a sweaty T-shirt and running shorts, his phone and the key card in a special carrier strapped with Velcro around his wrist, he headed to the door.

The sudden splitting noise of a fire alarm obliterated the calm he'd just achieved by the long run. Jogging the last few steps to the door, he jerked it open and found Cherry sitting up, groggy and confused.

"What happened?"

"Fire alarm." In rapid order he went about shoving his things into his overnight bag, then started on her stuff, grabbing up discarded clothes, shoes, makeup she'd left in the bathroom...

"What are you doing?"

"We have to clear out," he said while finding her a pair of jeans and her underwear, "and I figure we may as well head home."

"Oh." Little by little the sleepy daze cleared from her eyes.

Odds were the cough medicine had wiped her out as much as illness.

She started to leave the bed so he went to help her.

"I need the restroom."

"Okay, but we have to hurry." A voice came over an intercom of sorts in the room, directing guests to follow the guidelines on the backs of their entry doors. He led her to the bathroom, put the jeans and panties on the vanity, and stepped back. "Where's your phone?"

"Nightstand," she said, and shoved the door closed.

He saw she'd missed a call on her cell and on the room phone. Everything about this situation felt wrong, from the roughnecks claiming a relationship with her, to the sudden fire alarm and evacuation.

Damn it, he would not take chances with her.

He listened to the voice mail on the room phone first.

"Listen up, Cherry. You need to get in touch. I mean it. No more fucking around."

Angry tension invaded every muscle in Denver's body. When the caller, who he thought might be Carver, left a number, Denver held the phone between his shoulder and jaw and scrawled it down on a notepad. He tucked the paper into his wallet.

"Tonight, Cherry. You've caused enough trouble. Don't make me chase you down." And with that, the call ended.

He needed to know what the hell was going on. Now, before anything else happened. To be on the safe side, he glanced at her cell and saw that the missed call was from her roommate, Rissy. There was also a text that said only, Rissy was here. Typical MO for Merissa Colter. Under other circumstances, Denver might've smiled.

Right now he was as far from a smile as a man could get.

When he dropped the cell phone and charger into Cherry's purse, he saw her car keys. He fished them out and stuffed them into his front pocket. He'd just finished gathering up the meds and putting them in her purse when the bathroom door opened.

Cherry more or less crept out, now in the jeans, pale with fatigue, exhaustion showing in every line of her body.

He grabbed up the bags and put an arm around her. "Come on, honey, we need to go." He didn't think there was a real fire, but he wouldn't take any chances.

"My shoes."

"Damn. Sorry, but I already packed them. I'll find them for you in the car." He got her out the door and then had to veer her away from the elevator. "Not with a fire alarm going off."

"Oh, right."

He took in her red eyes, her defeated posture, and shook his head as he transferred the bags and her purse into one fist. "Sorry."

"Wha-" The word ended on a gasp when he dipped, caught her around the hips, and hoisted her up and over his shoulder. "Denver!"

"We're on the sixth floor, girl. You can barely go six steps."

To his surprise, she didn't fight him. She just clutched at his shirt and said, "Don't drop me!"

"Never."

He tried not to jostle her as he went down several flights of stairs. On the second floor, they ran into other people so he lowered her back to her feet to keep from embarrassing her, but put an arm around her waist to help support her. Near her ear, he asked, "Okay?"

With the strain obvious on her face, she nodded. When they finally reached the lobby, guests congested the front entrance, so Denver detoured with her down a short hall and out a side door.

The storms had moved out even before his jog, leaving the air fresh and clean. A blinding sun shone in a cloudless blue sky.

"Come on. You're parked this way, right?"

"Yes." She stumbled, coughed, and righted herself.

Worry stopped him. "Need me to carry you again?"

She shook her head, firm. "No."

"That'd be pride talking."

Mouth pinched, she trudged on.

Rocks and weeds littered the walkway. "Watch your step then." They were almost to the car when he spotted her supposed "brothers" in front of the bar across the street-in close conversation with Leese Phelps, the same idiot who'd hit on her yesterday.

The reservations were adding up.

And so were the men.

They all kept their eyes trained on the front of the hotel, probably hoping to hijack Cherry when she emerged. But why?

Had they pulled the fire alarm? It seemed possible and damn it, he didn't like it, any of it.

An approaching fire engine, sirens and lights blazing, thankfully drew their attention and kept them from searching beyond the front of the hotel.

Cherry had her head down so she didn't see them. Denver hustled her along a little more quickly and got her into the front seat before dumping the bags in the back.

"My purse."

"I'll get it in a minute." He freed the keys from his pocket while circling the car, and got behind the wheel. "Buckle up, honey." He was just pulling out when the men looked up and saw him. Leese shaded his eyes, just watching them go. The others straightened, cursed, and started off, presumably for their own transportation.

His sweaty T-shirt stuck to his back. He'd rather be wearing jeans than running shorts.

He would have loved a shower.

But he blocked those discomforts as he drove straight for the expressway, repeatedly checking the rearview mirror for anyone following. Cherry slumped in the corner of her seat, her eyes closed, shivering.

Working his jaw, Denver wondered when would be the best time to question her. His instinct was to coddle her, to make her as comfortable as possible.

But somehow she was embroiled in a whole bunch of brewing trouble. Even if the guys were her brothers, he recognized them as bad news. And that ominous phone message...

When he saw the second exit he took it, drove down to a small convenience store and pulled around back.

He didn't think anyone had tailed them, not that it mattered much.

With Leese's help, if Carver and the others wanted to track her down, it'd only be a matter of time before they showed up at her front door.

Even to Denver, his reaction to that was telling. Brothers or not, he didn't like the guys and he didn't want them anywhere near Cherry. How he'd keep them away, he wasn't sure yet. Maybe, he decided, it'd be best if he just stuck close so he'd be with her when they finally showed up.

When he put the car in Park, she stirred. Soft, sick, trusting.

His.

No, he couldn't think like that. Not yet. Contrary to the belief that athletes were all brawn and no brains, he wasn't an idiot. He learned from his experiences, especially the experiences that altered life.

There were facets to Cherry that he might never be able to accept. But while he figured that out, he'd damn well see her safe.

"Why are we stopped?"

Her voice sounded raspy and rough, her eyes looked sleep-heavy. Being near her and not touching her proved impossible. Knowing his expression to be grave, he stroked her thigh through her jeans. "I wanted to get you better settled. It's a long drive."

"I'm okay." Straightening, she unhooked her seatbelt and looked around before turning a quizzical gaze on him. "I just realized we didn't officially check out."

"The hotel has our info. I'll call once we're home." He put the back of his hand to her forehead. Warm. Too warm. Snagging her purse from the backseat, he opened it between them and dug around for the medicine.

Cherry looked at him, then at his hands in her purse. "Sure," she said, her gravelly tone dry, "help yourself."

He moved aside the phone book. "Have anything to hide?"

"No. It's just-" A big yawn took her by surprise. "Sorry."

"It's just what?"

"I don't know." She chewed her lower lip. "Personal?"

He handed her two aspirin, then reached back again for a bottle of water. "And having sex with me wasn't?"

"It's different and you know it." She swallowed the pills without complaint, then eyed the store.

Denver took her hand. "These are odd circumstances, right? I don't want you to think I'm just snooping through your stuff. But with you pretty much out of it, and-"

"The fire alarm at the hotel." She leaned toward him and put her forehead on his shoulder. "The way we had to leave there."

"Babe." He levered her back. "I'm sweaty."

"Because you didn't have a chance to change." She nestled up against him again. "You're so warm."

If she didn't mind, he wouldn't worry about it, either. He brushed his fingers through her hair. Usually she had soft curls, but now her hair was straighter, tangled. He tucked it behind her ears. "I was already in your purse once before."

Stiffening, she tipped her head back to share her displeasure.

This close, her brown eyes looked bigger and softer. And damn, he wanted her bad, maybe even more now that he'd had her than before getting a taste.