Page 27 of Restless Hawke

I try to shift closer, but I’m blocked by a couple hanging on each other and kissing the same way Coen just did me upstairs—with the kind of promise that meant I was more than justconsideringhis offer to stay the night.

The way his lips moved over mine.

His body aligned so perfectly against me.

That smoky flavor of his scotch invading my mouth, along with one that wasallCoen Hawke.

My body heats at the memory, a dull ache starting in my core that my strides and movement through the casino don’t seem to ease. If anything, the farther I move toward the main entrance and away from the elevator that will take me back to Coen’s room, the more it feels like I’m heading in the wrong direction.

The opulent lobby and main doors appear ahead, and I ease my way to the side, keeping myself hidden as I watch Coen’s visitor step outside and immediately climb into a waiting limo.

“Never would have thought you had a thing for older men.”

I jerk at the sound of Coen’s voice so close and whirl to find him standing directly behind me, shoulder leaning against the wall casually, as if he didn’t just bust me spying on the man who just left his suite.

“Shit”—I press my trembling hand over my thundering heart—“you scared me.”

He eyes me suspiciously, his gaze moving from me to the place where the limo just sat before it pulled away from the curb. “What exactlywereyou doing?”

Spying.

“I’m sorry. I was just a little worried. Things seemed intense with that man when I left you in the room. When I saw him come out, I was curious…”

One dark brow rises slowly. “About what?”

What the hell rattled you so much when I barely could…

“Who he is? What all that was about? He seems very…intimidating.”

He snorts and pushes off the wall. “That’s precisely why they sent him.”

“Who sent him?”

He presses his lips together in a firm line, crossing his arms over his chest as if he needs protection from whoever it is. “My family.”

His family senthim?

Even though the limo is long gone, my gaze still trails back to where it sat before it returns to Coen’s. “Who is he?”

Coen runs a hand back through his thick, dark hair with a sigh. “For all intents and purposes, my uncle. Not by blood, but in every way that matters.”

“I see…”

So, I followed his uncle…

I nod slowly, bite my lip, and glance around, looking for any way out of this—an escape route.

Talk about embarrassing.

I was totally busted by Coen.

Twice.

First in Atlantic City and now here…

And my plans to make a clean getaway after the tournament were foiled when he cornered me in that elevator before I could sneak back to the safety of my room and avoid the uncomfortable confrontation I knew was coming.

Though, what happened in that tiny, enclosed space wasn’t atallhow I expected it to go.