Page 93 of Restless Hawke

She wanted to vanish into thin air and did a damn good job of it.

And she clearly didn’t give a single fuck how it affected me.

Yet she wants totalk…

Allegra pleads with her eyes the same way she did when she was under me, begging for me to give her release less than a week ago. I eventually caved to her then—gave in to my most base need to seehersmet, despite my desire to make it last and ensure she understood what it’s like to be on the receiving end of the Hawke ire.

I gave in toher.

Everything in me screams not to do it again.

Not to let her in.

Not to give her even a single inch.

Because she’s the type of woman who will take that inch and turn it into a mile—maybe more.

But I’ve never been particularly good at listening to my better judgment.

It’s what got me in this mess in the first place.

I turn my gaze to Bishop. “Would you mind finishing your drink at the bar…where you can keep an eye on me?”

God knows she isn’t going toleavethe restaurant. She’s my permanent shadow for as long as this Satriano business continues, which doesn’t seem to have an end in sight.

Bishop scowls but pushes to her feet, adjusting her dress. “Fine, but as soon as my food arrives, I’m coming back.”

Allegra offers her a knowing grin. “Fair enough. I wouldn’t want to miss it, if I were you, either.”

Offering me one last long look of warning, Bishop stalks away in her heels, a strange mix of power, muscle, and grace that only she can pull off. She slides onto an empty stool at the end of the bar, only a few yards from us, but far enough away and separated by enough tables that she won’t be able to hear our conversation.

Something tells me I won’t want her to.

Allegra slowly lowers herself into the chair across from me, her gaze reserved, the usual energy she exudes dimmed by something I can’t quite place.

Regret?

Does she actually feelbadabout how she just left me?

That would be hoping for too much, and I learned long ago that having any sort of dreams only means having them squashed under life’s proverbial foot. This woman certainly already did that with one of her stilettoes.

“How did you know I’d be here?”

She offers a half-smile. “At dinner at your grandmother’s, you said Lago was your favorite restaurant in Las Vegas when Pope was talking about taking Alessandra there.” Her slender shoulders rise and fall, making the low-cutVof her dress shift to expose even more of her absolutely perfect breasts. “I figured you wouldn’t miss the opportunity to come here the night before the tournament.”

So, she was paying attention…

And to something so small.

I don’t know if I should be happy about that or annoyed.

“You disappeared on me…”

She absently plays with the napkin Bishop tossed on the table, staring out as the fountain show winds down. “I know.” Her bottom lip disappears under her teeth, and she finally meets my gaze again. “I wanted to apologize for that.”

“Why’d you run?”

Her eyes soften, but there’s something else underneath it.