Page 44 of Taken With Trouble

“Yet you always require it.”

She returns to her pouting child pose and stays like that. As the minutes crawl on, my chest continues to get heavier… and the car smaller. Along with a foreboding I cannot shake, there’s a heightened level of tension in this car that is surely only felt by me. I want to take Serena’s hand off her lap and press a kiss on the inside of her wrist. I want to hear her whisper my name as she begs me to kiss her. This woman is temptation embodied, but she wants nothing to do with me.

I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair, glancing over at her. But her face is a study in apathy. Only the meticulous way she strokes her gold badge hints at anything amiss.

“Wait, where are we? This isn’t the way we should be going,” Serena says as I turn down a dark alley.

“I have to do something.”

“This is the same restaurant. What are you doing? Feeding me to the wolves again?” Her grip on the door tightens.

“If I fed you to wolves, I fear you’d turn around and lead the pack.” I try for a lightness, but there’s still something nagging at me, and the words come out through gritted teeth. “Relax. I’m just here to pick up my mail.”

“Your mail?”

“Stay right here. I’ll be back.” I park the car then hop out, locking her inside. She tries to open the door and yells when it refuses to budge. I look at her through the window, holding my hand to my ear, mouthing ‘sorry, I can’t hear you.’

She slices a finger over her throat.

Got that message loud and clear. I respond by blowing her a kiss.

I push the lock button on the key fob one more time for good measure. Even if she crawls into the driver’s seat, it won’t work. Perks of having a very expensive car.

I turn, heading for the back door to the building. The man we left here last night is gone, thank goodness. Someone must have taken care of him.

I pass the bathroom, walking straight to the kitchen.

“Red order for Tim Diamond,” I call through the serving window.

Only one person in the kitchen responds. The young man ducks into a door that serves as the mailroom for the rich and shady of the U.K. If someone wants to get a message to someone quickly and without being detected, this restaurant is a great way to do it. Until they get caught and shut down of course. But their clientele is good at keeping the problems at bay. The only rule is the letter can’t be from a real person. Hence the fake name.

This is the only way I’ve been able to contact my grandfather for the last four years, which is why I left a letter last night while we were here. Whether or not Cruz believes it, our visit was not just an attempted kidnapping and my grand plan to save her. That had simply been a happy accident from which I emerged victorious.

The young man emerges with a letter and hands it to me wordlessly.

I return to the car. Serena is no longer screaming, but sheisstill staring daggers into my soul.

I unlock the car and hop in. My butt squishes into the seat but… it’s a littletoosquishy. I grimace but don’t move. “What was that?”

Serena smiles coyly and holds up a little jar. “It said it makes things look better. I figured we’d need the whole thing.”

“Do not tell me you just put a whole jar of wax on my car seat.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

I close my eyes. It doesn’t matter. It can be fixed. My suit can be… thrown out.

“I didn’t try to kill you,” she says innocently.

“Maybe you should. It would be less expensive.”

And then something happens. Something I’ve yet to witness.

Serena laughs. A real, deep, true laugh.

It’s a sound I didn’t know I longed to hear, but hearing it seems to awaken a piece of my forsaken heart.

I keep my eyes out the window, not wanting her to stop. But eventually, it fades into little giggles. And it’s torture. Because it’s so blastedadorable.