Faster We Burn

and the staff stayed out of my way, it suited my purposes. The last thing I needed was for some nosey maid to riffle through my papers and find out why I was really in town.
    The hotel was cemetery quiet as I climbed out of the Range Rover and locked it behind me. The late hour combined with the stillness around me provided a ghost town-like aura. It felt strange to be out here in the middle of nowhere. Ever since I arrived here I’d been wondering why a rich girl like Ashton had picked this town to hide. I would have expected the glitzy lights of New York or the party atmosphere of Chicago to appeal to her, but instead she’d chosen Woodfalls. I’d seen her type over the years: rich, easily bored, with big time diva complexes. Woodfalls was too tame for someone like that.
    I pushed the motel room door open with my foot after sliding the key into the lock, making sure the “Do Not Disturb” sign remained on the door. Once I switched on the lights, Ashton’s face greeted me from the multiple images hanging on the wall. Each image depicted her in a different setting and pose, all courtesy of my client. Studying the pictures of her smiling, I couldn’t help noting how the images didn’t do her eyes justice. They couldn’t capture the same sparkle I had witnessed earlier that evening. Just remembering how she’d smiled at me with her bright shiny eyes made me want her even more.
    “This is ridiculous,” I thought, shaking my head in disgust. I backed up to the edge of my bed and sank down onto the sagging mattress. What the hell was I doing? Lusting after a target was unacceptable. I was hired to make contact, observe, and report back to my client. That was it. I wasn’t hired to sniff at her ass like a dog in heat—no matter how appealing that might be.
    Striding to the bathroom, I stripped off my clothes in aggravation and cranked the shower to its coldest setting, hoping a cold shower would shock my system. Five minutes later, I stood with a towel around my waist, glaring at the traitor between my legs. It’s not like I was sexually deprived. Something about Ashton just appealed to me. Well, not just something. It was everything. She was smoking hot.
    My cellphone vibrated on the nightstand, pulling my mind from the gutter I couldn’t seem to get out of. It was a little late for this call, but considering I neglected to check in today, I wasn’t too surprised.
    “Yes, sir,” I answered.
    “Did you find her?” the voice on the other end asked, offering up no greeting.
    The words of affirmation were on the edge of my tongue, but I surprised myself by answering negatively. “Not yet, sir. I have a lead though. It should only be a matter of time before I locate her.”
    “You gave the impression the last time we conversed that you were following a lead.”
    “It’s the same lead,” I lied. “It’s only a matter of time before I pinpoint her location.”
    “The sooner, the better,” he grumbled, hanging up without any further words.
    I returned the phone to the nightstand and slid back against the pillows. That was unsettling. I’d never lied to a client before. For three weeks I’d been on Ashton’s trail. I should have been happy to finally close up the case and head back to my condo in Tampa for some much needed R&R. Just that morning I’d been dreaming about taking several months off to catch up on some fishing and scuba diving. This case was ready to be wrapped within twenty-four hours, but now, suddenly, I was dragging it out. All for her. From the moment I laid eyes on Ashton I’ve been acting like a complete jackass, letting my little head outthink my big head. As soon as I walked in the bar tonight, I was taken in by her. I’d scanned the smoke-filled room, spotting her with her friends, joking and carrying on in the far corner. It was obvious the moment they noticed my presence as their voices came out in short bursts of excited chatter followed by whispering. I figured it was only a matter of time until I was approached. Bar scenes didn’t get their hook-up stigma for no reason. Eight years ago, it would have been my buddies and me in the far corner of the bar playing the game. All of us banking on getting laid that night. More times than not, we’d all gone home alone. We were young, dumb, testosterone-crazed maniacs that most chicks wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.
    Then I met Jessica and fell head over heels in love with her. She was poised, polished and challenged