Page 28 of Obsession

“It was a drink.”

“Now it’s dinner.”

Grinding my teeth, I debate my options. He has me cornered. I’m done for if James finds out about the rose and the letter.

Robbie is getting a mouthful when I see him next. How dare he put me in this situation? Even if the gesture was sweet.

Dammit. Why do I have such a soft spot for a monster?

It seems I have a taste in men, after all.

“How about that dinner?”

My eyes narrow, but before I can spit venom at him, he crushes the rose in his big palm, causing my heart to crumble.

“Elliot…” I whisper, surprised by my choked voice.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“I sensea bit of hostility on your part,” Robbie says, amusement flashing in his eyes when I glare up at him while the guard unlocks his shackles.

Why does he have to look so sinfully good dressed in a prison outfit? It should be illegal.

The moment his ass hits the chair, I toss the crumpled rose with its crushed petals on the table.

Robbie’s eyebrows fly up, and he drags his hand over his mouth, glancing at me. “I guess you don’t like roses.”

“Your little stunt landed me in deep shit.”

He stiffens, lowering his tattooed hand to his lap.

“Elliot was there when I found the rose and your note.” I quirk a brow, ignoring the warmth spreading through my chest as he relaxes back in his chair. “I now have to go to dinner with the asshole unless I want my boss to find out that the country’s most notorious serial killer is gifting me flowers.”

A chill slithers down my spine when the air around Robbie darkens and thickens. If he were a sky, his emotions would be the gathering of storm clouds over a glassy lake.

“What’s your boss gonna do?” he drawls, watching me closely while bouncing his knee.

I can’t help but notice the crack in his facade. He’s not as calm or unaffected as he wants me to believe.

“He can’t fire you.”

“Of course, he can,” I blurt, but he surges forward so fast, I jerk back.

“No, he can’t, Savannah.” The whisper of his breath this close to my lips brushes like a soft kiss. “Do you want to hazard a guess as to why?”

When I don’t respond, focused on the hazel flecks in his eyes, he continues, “Because he’s salivating over my story, my confession. He knows what it can do for his small-time newspaper. If he drops you, he has no story.” His ocean eyes flit to my mouth, and my own lips part in response. “My story belongs to you, Savannah. My confession is yours and yours alone.”

My teeth sink into my lip, and a masculine rumble I’d die to hear again vibrates his broad chest.

“Listen to me carefully, Savannah. You’re going to turn Elliot down, unless you want the sniffing dog to die a slow, painful death.”

My heart has ceased to beat. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. Not when his hot breath whispers across my parted lips. He’s so close, yet so far.

Fuck, I want his mouth on mine.

The guard clears his throat, and I startle, but Robbie bites out, “Look at me,” and I’m sucked back into his orbit.

“You’re imprisoned, Mr. Hammond.” I keep my voice too quiet for the guard to hear. “You can’t hurt Elliot from behind these walls.”