Page 31

She held her breath. It felt as though all available oxygen had been sucked into a vortex.

His brow wrinkled. “Something about this is familiar.”

She quickly tugged to pull her hand out but only got about halfway. Her bracelet was stuck.

Not again.

She pulled. She pulled harder. And with each tug, she felt the space in that pocket get tighter.

“Hey,” he said, “stop, you’re going to rip—”

“Sorry.”

He blinked, looking bemused. “What are you sorry for? Why did you stop?”

“You just told me to.”

“Well that was stupid of me. Why the hell would I do that?”

She wanted to laugh. But she wanted to get her hand out of his pocket more. She would laugh. Later. When she told Charles, who would definitely laugh.

“Because I was going to rip your pants.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Yeah, I know what it is you don’t mind.

He dipped his own hand in the pocket and began stroking hers. “Let me see if I can help.”

“How is this supposed to help?”

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe I can pull the bracelet from the material or thread its stuck on. But come closer so you’re not tugging against the pocket so much.”

She drew closer but kept her head down, doing her best to concentrate on the intricate pattern of the carpet.

Her heart was pumping in all the places it shouldn’t—in her ears, she could hear it pounding; in her wrists, which made her hands tremble; even between her legs, where she could feel it throb.

Don’t look up.

Don’t.

Look.

Up.

But she did.

Her eyes met his. Her lips parted.

Could she do it? The way normal people did. Not as part of a con or pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

Just her and him. Because she wanted to. Hopefully because he wanted to too.

Maybe he will.

I will. If he will.

And then suddenly her bracelet broke free. She blinked and hastily pulled out her hand, forcing him to do the same.

Once her hand was free, she took a step back.

Right about now, she was hoping for a 9.5 magnitude earthquake on the Richter scale. With any luck, a hole would open up under her feet and swallow her so she wouldn’t have to face those eyes and that arrogant grin, not to mention that snake.

She remembered Charles telling her about a snake in Chile with both a slow- and fast-twitch tongue.

That’s the one. That’s the snake. The one with the slow- and fast-twitch tongue.

“I don’t have a key card,” he said matter-of-factly.

Nico’s eye’s ballooned. “What?”

Damn her voice. Even that trembled.

“I forgot it. But that’s okay. I don’t need it.”

He stepped around her and punched some keys on a panel to the right of the door. She hadn’t noticed the panel. She didn’t have one for her room.

The door clicked, and he pushed it open. She turned on her heels and made a move to go, but he grabbed her wrist.

“Aren’t you going to come in?”

“No.”

Why did he want her to come in? Stupid question.

After everything she’d revealed, why wouldn’t he?

She was here. She was available. And given what he’d learned about her, she was up for anything.

Or just about anything. He was too drunk to think about the mess he might wake up to.

Too drunk to realize she was a member of his team and all the possible things that could go wrong were they to hook up for one night.

She tried to yank free, but he held on. She might not have minded if the pounding in her wrists wasn’t so insistent. There was no way he couldn’t feel it beneath his fingers. And she didn’t like what it might be telling him. What she knew it was telling her.

“Not even to make sure I make it to my bed safe and sound?”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that.”

He pouted. “You won’t worry?”

A laugh that sounded more like a snort escaped her lips. “Of course not.”

“Not even just a little?”

She stared into his eyes. He had to be joking. But he didn’t look it—or sound it.

“It’s nice to have someone worry about you,” he said.

She felt her eyes prick. No , she told them.

You will not play misty now. Not when there’s no mark and nothing to gain from it.

“Not that you want people you care about to worry,” he said. “You don’t. But still, it’s nice that they do. Don’t you think?”

She did.

But he had so many people to do that.

“You have plenty of people who worry about you,” she said. “Your nieces, your sister, your parents and grandparents, Dario and Celeste. You don’t need me.”

“I guess.” He looked down at the carpet and muttered.

“But it’ll be quiet with my nieces gone.

Not a bad thing. But sometimes not a good thing.

” He looked up, trying to peer at her with glazed eyes.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?

” He swayed right, and the door began to swing.

He stuck his foot out just in time to catch it before it shut.

“Quiet makes thoughts louder. Specially thoughts you don’t want to be having. Specially not before you go to sleep.”

“I understand.”

He brightened. “You do?”

For some reason, looking at him now, she wanted to laugh. But then she thought he might think she was laughing at him. And she didn’t want him to think that.

So, she nodded. “I do.”

All too well.

He smiled just before his head fell forward, and he was back to staring at the carpet. Suddenly he looked up, and his eyes brightened. “There’s leftover pizza.”

When she hesitated, he added, “Oh right. Maybe not pizza.”

He bit his lip.

She wished he wouldn’t do that. His lips had mastered the Goldilocks principle.

They weren’t too thick. They weren’t too thin.

They were just right—perfect. And the upper lip, which he now had between his teeth, dipped in a dramatic way like a curve in the road that showed you something wholly unexpected once you got around it.

Something that could make your palms sweat, your heart stop, and maybe even make you gasp for breath.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers with his other hand. “Chocolate. There’s chocolate. Chocolate. And more chocolate. There’s so much chocolate, you can put chocolate on chocolate. And more than one kind of chocolate.”

She didn’t want to, but damn it, she couldn’t stop herself. She smiled.

She stopped pulling against him.

“We didn’t eat all the chocolate?”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. I have some stashed away—in three different hiding places. I have to when those two Tasmanian devils are around.”

Her smile broadened. She couldn’t stop it if she tried. And she wasn’t trying. But she still couldn’t seem to move one foot in front of the other.

“Where are the hiding places?”

“Uh-uh. I’m not going to give all my secrets away. Not without getting something in return.”

She felt herself take a step forward as though gravity itself had pushed her.

“What kinds?” she asked as she took another step.

“Huh?”

“You said there were different kinds of chocolate.”

He tugged her arm, gently pulling her closer. “You’ll have to come in to find out.”

“White chocolate?” she asked as she took yet another step.

He’d pushed the door wide open and was standing in the doorway.

“No. Do you like white chocolate?”

She shook her head. “No. Okay, I’ll come in. But just for a minute. You can let go now.”

He frowned. “Huh?”

She glanced down at his hand around her wrist.

“Oh.”

He let go, and she entered.

“White chocolate’s not really chocolate,” he said as the door shut behind her. “Why do they even call it chocolate?”

He’s. So. Sweet.

Is he really?

This sweet?

He grinned with hooded eyes as he brushed past her. “Don’t worry, I don’t have any handcuffs in the bedroom.”

Apparently not.