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“You have what? Why would I need you?” Did Liam tell her something the other night? I knew she kept something from me.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then opens them again. “Because I’m a psychic.”
I clench my jaw. This night keeps getting better and better. “Really? Prove it.” I step closer. “What am I thinking right now?” I try to make the message easy for her, writing “leave and don’t ever come back” right across my furrowed brows and pursed lips.
Her gaze dances between my eyes and she reaches up, skating her fingers over my shoulders and neck. It’s hard to stand still, to continue to project my false hatred for her.
“You’re thinking…” A finger runs over my bottom lip. “That you want to kiss me.”
“Wrong.”
She pinches my neck lightly. “Has anyone ever accused you of being too blunt, Agent Heartless?”
“This is real life, Amelia. Not a show.”
“Real life sucks,” she mutters. I’m inclined to agree. “At least tell me something. Is Chad here? Should I go flirt with him?”
The idea of her flirting with Liam again causes me to clench my jaw until it aches. He’s a liar and she refuses to believe it. He’s not here to help at a school for special needs; we proved that the other night after he left Amelia. Agents followed him to his hotel but that was as far as he made it.
“His name is Liam Hawthorne and he’s a criminal,” I say harsher than I should have.
Her eyes light up and I realize I gave this woman more information than I should have.
“He’s not here,” I say quickly. “He never was. I was out with a friend.”
Her forehead creases and she studies me.
“Then why did you let me wander around for half an hour?”
My annoyance fades and I chuckle, enjoying the different roads her mind must have gone down before settling on that question.
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to realize someone was following you. And you were completely oblivious.” Another reason I can’t have her involved in any of this. She’s too sweet and naive. It was the highlight of my night trailing her. She was focused and determined. Except for when a drunk woman stumbled right in front of her. Amelia helped her to a chair and got her water, while the woman’s friends continued to dance.
“I was not!” She stands to her full, unimpressive height, indignation rolling off her and dying, because she’s not really mad.
“At one point I walked by you with a tray of empty drinks,” I say.
“You’re lying.” She frowns, but it dissolves into a smile, the most addicting of kinds. “Okay. So I’m a little oblivious sometimes. Only because I was on a mission,” she says defensively.
“And what was that mission?” I taunt, wanting her to…I don’t know what I want her to say. We both know there’s something here, but I can’t act on it.
No, I want her to admit she was doing something stupid by following an FBI agent into what could have been a setup.
“To find the most handsome man in the building,” Amelia says, looking up at me while biting her bottom lip.
I about come undone with the action. That’s an invitation if I’ve ever heard one and my body is already reacting. My hand reaching for her waist, my lips—
Nope. I jerk back, placing more than two feet of space between us.
I immediately regret it when I catch her grimace in the dim hallway.
Her eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Special Agent. I never said I was done looking.”
She spins on her heel and leaves me alone in the dark hallway.
Chapter 21
Amelia