Page 20 of Precious Hazard (Perfectly Imperfect #11)

“Yes,” my foreman confirms. “Let me introduce you. This is Mr. Arturo DeVille, the CEO of Gateway Development Corp.” He turns toward the city suit. “Samuel Daniels. He’s with the DOB Enforcement Unit.”

“All our compliance documentation and permits were approved months ago. You’re costing me money, Mr. Daniels. I’d appreciate it if you’d get your ass off my property.” I jerk my head toward the perimeter gate.

Daniels straightens and crosses his arms over his chest. “That may be, but we received information that requires further scrutiny. I’m here to advise you that all work on this site needs to cease immediately until this matter is handled.”

“What information?”

“I’m not at liberty to share the pertinent details at the moment. However, if I can ask you to please—”

A chirpy voice rings out behind me. “That navy color looks good on you, Sammy.”

I spin around a fraction of a second faster than the DOB guy, both of us finding Tara with a huge grin plastered across her face.

“Tara?” Daniels exclaims, his whole demeanor changing from cold and rigid to friendly and full of charm as he practically leaps toward her, engulfing her in his arms. “My God! How long has it been? What are you doing here, pumpkin?”

Sammy? Pumpkin?

What the fuck? The son of a bitch is lucky he let go of her before he drew his next breath. Otherwise, it might have been his last.

“Seven years, just about. You’re looking spiffy, Sammy. How’s Mama Daniels doing?”

I watch my future wife lift up onto her toes to give this motherfucker a peck on the cheek. My hands fist at my sides as I fight the impulse to snap his neck.

“She’s doing well. And how have you been, little trickster?”

“Oh, you know. Same old with me. So! What’s going on that got my buddy’s panties in a twist? You’re here to give him the gears?”

“You’re with him?”

“Yes, she’s with me!” I close the distance and wrap my arm around her waist.

Tara shrugs as if she’s indifferent one way or the other. “Let’s just say we recently struck a deal, but we’re still ironing out the kinks.”

Sammy sizes me up before turning his full attention back to Tara. “We received a complaint, claiming that this location contained a building of historical significance. Someone high up the chain sent me here to put a hold on things until the bigwigs figure out who’s who and what’s what.”

“This is goddamned New York!” I snap. “You can’t throw a stone without hitting something that someone has claimed as historically or architecturally significant to qualify for grants or tax breaks.

But the heap of crap that stood here, wasn’t it.

Check your records. It was assessed as a hazardous structure, and that’s why we were granted the demolition permit in the first place. ”

“If that’s the case, Mr. DeVille, you have nothing to worry about,” Daniels states as his gaze lingers on Tara. “You’ll be able to resume work as soon as we’ve made the necessary confirmation.”

The urge to take this guy down and dig his eyes out floods me. Why is he looking at my woman like that? They’re definitely familiar and comfortable with each other. Friends, or something more?

So what? What if they were? Why the fuck do I even care? She’ll be my wife in name only. I need to remember that.

Grinding my molars, I swallow the need to punch the idiot.

“How long will that take?” I ask.

“No more than a month. Maybe two, since this is a bit of an unusual matter.”

“What?”

“Oh, come on, Sammy.” Tara laughs, patting him on his chest. “Can’t you push it a bit? I know you’ve got that magic. How about by the end of the week? For old times’ sake. Otherwise, I’m afraid DeVille might have a coronary.”

Daniels gives me a quick look before his attention is once more consumed by Tara. He seems to be swallowing her with his eyes. They have to be more than just old friends. Ex-lovers. I’m certain of it.

That realization is like a gut punch, knocking the wind out of me without any fucking warning.

“Sure, pumpkin.” He nods. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Sammy. Really appreciate it. Please say hi to Mama Daniels for me, alright?”

Flash after flash of various ways I can maim the fucker occupy my mind while I glare at Sammy as he and Tara say their goodbyes and promise to stay in touch.

Oh, there won’t be any touches, literal or metaphorical.

That, I can guarantee. Just before Daniels slides behind the wheel of his car, he glances back and gives Tara a wink.

The direction of my thoughts turns to drawn-out torture and killing, so I step in front of Tara to block his view of her.

“Who was that man to you?” I somehow manage to sound like a human being rather than a snarling bull.

“An old friend.” Her strawberry scent hits me as she flips her hair over her shoulder. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Choosing to ignore her latter comment, I ask, “Just a friend?”

She arches an eyebrow and then simply walks around me, heading back to the BMW. We’re playing tit for tat, apparently.

“Mr. DeVille?” Tito asks, coming up to stand next to me. “This will significantly impact our timelines. We may need to—”

“Tito, I don’t want to discuss goddamned timelines right now,” I snap and trail after Tara.

Inside the spacious car, Tara has tucked herself back into her seat, nose once more stuck in her lady porn. I slide in beside her and signal to Riggo to get us moving again.

“Were you two lovers back in the day?” I ask.

“Who?”

“You and Sammy-boy.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business since you asked him to do me a favor. Favors require repayment, and I need to know to whom I’m indebted,” I insist, trying my damnedest to believe that’s the actual reason for my question.

“You don’t owe Sam anything. I simply allowed him to reciprocate something I did for him years ago. He gets this done, and we’re even.”

“What did you do?”

Her damn book is hiding most of her face, but I still notice her rolling her eyes at me. “We went to high school together. Sammy’s dad had a terminal illness, and none of the available medications helped with his pain. So I… um… brought something back for him from my trip to the Netherlands.”

I snatch the book out of her hand. “You smuggled drugs across the border for some guy? Are you fucking insane?”

“It was medicine, not cocaine!” She grabs the book from me and pulls it to her chest. “I did what I thought was right, helping a friend. And you, you’re being an enormous hypocrite right now, considering you run the most extensive drug trafficking operation in this part of the country!”

“What if you had gotten caught?”

“Thanks to those meds, for the first time in months, Mr. Daniels was pain-free and died peacefully in his sleep. He was surrounded by his family, who didn’t have to helplessly watch him suffer in agony.

To me, that was worth it. Besides, I was still a minor, with no prior offenses.

I would have gotten off with maybe a fine. The benefits outweighed the risk.”

“You were a minor. Great.” I squeeze my temples with the heels of my hands. That organ transplant allegory Popov used makes so much more sense now.

“Oh, save me from your patronizing attitude, DeVille. I won’t be judged by someone who couldn’t recognize a good deed if it bit him in the ass.” She positions her book between us, blocking my line of sight.

We spend the remainder of the ride in absolute silence.

Aside from the vehicle noise and the world outside still spinning as it naturally does, the tranquility is only broken by the occasional sound of a turning page.

Tara keeps herself slightly angled, hiding behind her book.

But with my height advantage, I have no problem seeing her eyes as they quickly flit across the lines of text as she reads her stupid romance novel.

Until she gets down to the bottom of the page, that is.

Then, she lowers the book and gives me a full view of those bewitching lips.

And the tip of that velvety tongue as she licks her finger. Every. Fucking. Time.

And my damn cock just gets harder and harder.

Fuck .

I need to get laid. And soon. It’s been… months?… and my dick doesn’t understand that we don’t like this infuriating woman. Just as I’m reaching for my phone to text one of my casual lays, she does it again.

Her lips take on a slightly pouty appearance just before she brings her thumb to the bottom one. She keeps it there for a heartbeat, hovering over the tiny divot at the center. And then… that tongue. Rosy. Glistening. Fucking tempting.

Phone and intended text forgotten, my attention stays glued to that mouth until we reach the Williamsburg venue where the fundraiser is taking place.

The entire time, I feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs, waiting for the next turn of the page.

Salivating at the metaphorical bell she’s wielding.

Growing more frustrated with every iteration.

Getting more and more turned on with every lick.