Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats) Read Online Free

almost as if making sure the pushy leader would take care of her. She sensed he had a sweet, protective nature. But he, too, eventually took off.
    Sorry, fellas… not tonight. Probably not any night.
    After most had taken off via the stairs or elevators, Kat flashed her Hazel Mystery Man a grin. “I’ve got it. I’m a big girl, I can wheel my own luggage.”
    “Well, I’ll say one thing… you’re definitely not a rebellious teenager.”
    Kat reared back. “Who the hell do you… oh. You. The manny.”
    “No, Michael.”
    Kat sighed and tugged on the bag. He didn’t let go. “Male nanny. Manny. Everyone needs to improve their lexicon. I can carry that myself, you know.”
    “I was raised right,” was all he said, then started walking toward the elevator. He froze just as she began walking, and her nose connected with his arm.
    His rock-hard arm.
    “Ouch.” She stepped back and rubbed at the bridge of her stinging nose. No blood, so that was good. But holy crap, that hurt.
    “Sorry. Sorry. Here, don’t do that.” He dropped her bag—luckily it wasn’t fine china—and cupped her chin, angling it up. “Hold on. Look right at me.”
    “Like I can look anywhere else,” she snapped. When she tried to move, his grip firmed. “What are you doing?”
    But his hazel eyes were intently watching hers, and she felt herself calm down without even meaning to. Something about the way he watched her… It was a little spooky, but not in a weird way.
    With nowhere else to look, she found herself studying him. He was handsome, no doubt, with a little scruff and a nose that bore an interesting bump. And hands that were the size of dinner plates but cradled her chin like they were accustomed to holding delicate teacups.
    Without warning, she felt herself softening, just a little. Totally physical reaction, she reasoned with herself. So the guy was good-looking. So what?
    “Okay,” he finally said, releasing her chin. “No concussion.”
    “That… that’s what you were doing?” Why did her voice sound so breathless? Women who used a breathy bedroom voice outside the bedroom were annoying.
    “Habit. In my line of work, you tend to jump to conclusions and play it safe. You got an apartment key already?”
    She dug in her shorts pocket and pulled it out. “Here we go. I’m on floor…” She dug in the other pocket to pull out the card the front desk assistant had given her. “I’m on floor eight. Apartment 823.”
    “Of course you are,” he said on a sigh and wheeled the suitcase toward the elevator.
    “Why, are we on opposite ends?” Could she be so lucky?
    Over his shoulder, he called, “You’re my next door neighbor.”

    * * *
    M ichael entered his own apartment , glad for the silence. Which was promptly broken by his phone ringing. With a grunt of annoyance, he answered. “Yes, Sawyer, I found her. She is not, by the way, a surly teenager with an attitude problem.”
    Attitude problem, maybe. But teenager? No, his new neighbor was definitely all woman, in her midtwenties at least. A sexy, sass-mouth of a woman…
    “Never said she was a teenager. You jumped to that conclusion all on your own.”
    Michael ignored that true statement. “She’s safely enclosed in her apartment—which, by the way, is literally next door to me. How the hell did you work that out?”
    “Agent magic. If I tell you details, it loses its power. Thanks for that, man. Now, can you keep her in for the first night, at least? Just until you can get to know each other a little more and she learns she can rely on you for things?”
    “She got here, like, five minutes ago. It’s going to take her the whole night to unpack, minimum. She’s a girl. You know how they are about their clothes and shit.” Not that Michael had much of a clue. No sisters, no long-term relationships… but he could guess. He’d heard stories. He had cable.
    Sawyer paused, then said, “She’s already gone, isn’t she?”
    Michael made a huffing