Page 59 of Maneater

I don’t know what Josephine Montgomery is doing here, but I somehow know in my gut it’s not because she wanted to take in the sights of the Keys.

I told her we wouldn’t be kissing again, and I think part of me knew even as I said it I was lying. I need to kiss Josie more than I need to breathe.

“My charm doesn’t work on you,” she whispers. “It never has.”

“I didn’t realize you were so blind,” I reply just as softly. A small gasp leaves her lips, and I lean down, pressing mine to the pulse in her neck, feeling it pound against my lips. “I’ve been charmed by you since you turned me down six years ago.”

Her body stiffens at my words, but I don’t let myself get too caught up in her, get distracted, not when it’s my turn to distract her until she confesses something.Anything.

“You know, this morning, my boss informed me that our leak was found.” Her body stills, and my adrenaline increases at some innate knowledge that I was right; she has some kind of link to it.

“Why are you telling me this?” she whispers, attempting to show disinterest and failing.

Without hesitation, I reveal my hand.

“Because I think you know something, Josie.”

“I don’t know anything,” she says too quickly.

I smile then, brushing my thumb over the spot in her cheek where that fucking dimple usually lies. “You’re a good liar; I’ll give you that. Most people wouldn’t see it. But I’ve been watching for a year, obsessing over every moment. Watching you flip your hair, dissecting what’s real and what is bullshit. I don’t know what you know, but you know something. I just can’t figure out what. I know you’re not here just to take in the sun and sights.”

I shift a hand and cup her cheek, a thumb brushing over her full bottom lip, and my eyes focus there as her tongue darts out, tasting me. I bite back a groan, determined to hide how she impacts me just as well as she does. When I shift my gaze back to her eyes, hers are shifting back to me at the same time.

“Kiss me, Rowan,” she whispers, a plea in her words. My brows furrow in confusion at the stark change of subject, but then her hands are lifting, one cupping me behind the neck, the other holding my cheek.

“What?”

“Kiss me. God, it’s all I’ve been able to think about. Please. Kiss me.”

A long moment passes as I take in her words and the need and desire in them, as I pick through them to determine if she’s being truthful. She is, I decide, truthful in her assertion that it’s all she’s been able to think of.

But something tells me this is also another distraction, another move in the game she’s playing, so I shake my head gently.

“I’m not kissing you again until I figure out what you’re doing here, Josie.”

I expect her to tell me she doesn’t know a thing.

I expect her to tell me that I’m insane, making things up.

I expect her, in her own way, to use her power of distraction and change the subject once more.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she smiles.

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to continue this dance next time we run into each other,” she says.

I shake my head, disagreeing. “I think not.”

Her phone beeps, and she smiles; for some reason, she looks satisfied. Then she ducks under my arm and steps away from me before walking down the hall. When she’s a few feet away, she looks over her shoulder at me and smiles.

“Next time you pin me against a wall, I really hope you’re ready to make good on your promises, Rowan. I’m tired of the teasing.”

And then she’s gone.

TWENTY-FOUR

Suspect list for Daydream resorts based on current intel: