Page 65

Maybe searching him out hadn’t been such a good idea. “I need to get going.”While I still can.“I have a long drive back to Denver.”
When he gave her some space and released her hands, she desperately brought them up between them and placed them on his chest, giving a little push. But of course her efforts were useless. Gregorio wouldn’t budge until he was ready.
She used the rest of the run to try to focus on her case, not her reaction to the man close behind her.
When they were back inside his cabin, her phone buzzed. Grateful for the distraction, she grabbed it and answered.
“Hey,” Ashley said, her voice bright but tinged with concern. “Just wanted to check in. You seemed…distracted yesterday.”
Sasha tightened her grip on the phone. “Everything’s great,” she said, forcing herself not to look at Gregorio. He was near, barely winded from their run, and he was studying her with absolute focus. “Thanks for checking.”
“You sure?” Ashley pressed. “It’s not like you not to let anyone know where you are, Sash.”
She paced to the window, more to distance herself from Gregorio than anything else. “I’ll be back in Denver in a couple of hours.”
“And I bet you’re not even trying to have fun.”
Fun?Sasha couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder at Gregorio.
Her dark, dangerous protector was wicked and intense, and toe-curlingly demanding. But fun? She wasn’t sure that word applied. “I’ll see you tomorrow after I meet with Mrs. Santos.”
“In that case, I’ll get back to Jonah.”
After ending the call, Sasha set the phone down. “That was my office manager.”
“She seems overly concerned.”
Does she?Or was he grasping at straws? Seeing something that didn’t exist? “Can we get going?”
“You have time for breakfast first.”
It wasn’t a question, and she blew out a frustrated breath. “We can grab something on the way.”
Rather than argue, he pulled eggs from the refrigerator. The man was an unmovable force of nature.
Knowing that she didn’t have a prayer of winning, she settled for starting a second pot of coffee while bacon sizzled in a pan.
Then, wanting to put space between them, she headed to the bedroom to gather her belongings and repack her duffel bag.
A few minutes later, he joined her, carrying a fresh cup of coffee. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Thanks.”
She remained behind for a few more minutes before joining him.
He’d set two plates and silverware next to each other on the island, and she slid onto a barstool.
As always, his movements were economical. Was there anything he couldn’t do? “You’re competent in the kitchen.”
“Necessity.”
While they were eating, his phone chimed with a notification.
Excusing himself, he headed up to the loft.
While he was gone, she finished her breakfast and washed the pans.
“That was Inamorata,” he said when he came back down the stairs.