“Does the referring party know the details?”
Ah. He’s concerned it’s a conflict of interest for his client who sent me. This is the problem with using people that aren’t yours. But my cleaner will report back to Axel, and I can’t have that either.
“It’s not a conflict of interest,” I assure him.
He moves on. “Time of arrival?”
For some reason, I think of my mother. The house and life and family decimated, reduced to soot and a ringing phone. Melted vinyl and a singing knife.
“You can go now. Everyone is gone.”
That brief remembrance only solidifies my position. Unfortunately for Tessa, I’ll be doubling down on every precaution I’ve taken so far. Most of those enabled me to remain at a distance, but I have a suspicion there’s a storm brewing, so it’s time to batten down the hatches.
And maybe have some fun with it.
Since Axel is discussing something with Cash, I shoot Tessa a quick text.
Me: Trying to plan my week. I have your work schedule. But I need allother commitments submitted by this evening. We can discuss any conflicts when we arrive at your apartment.
That will piss her off to the brink of being homicidal. And I’m here for it. Like I mentioned, Tessa seething is sexy. And also a bit infuriating. I got that girl out of a bind. No questions asked. It was a tale of heroism. And she’s snubbed me ever since.
I kind of like it, but that’s beside the point. She doesn’t know that.
The dots beside her name finally dance. I can actually feel the wrath jumping off them.
Tessa: Are the rumors true?
What the fuck kind of response is that? What rumors?
Me: The ones about my superhuman bedroom skills? So, you’ve heard. That explains the nickname. No need to be coy about wanting me to sink my teeth into you.
Tessa: Superhuman isn’t exactly the word that was being tossed around, but you know what? Never mind. I hate gossip. It’s good that you can put a positive twist on things.
She’s baiting me. But she’s also sacrificing time to spar with me, and that’s something. No idea why it feels like something. Why does this girl get under my skin like no one else can?
Me: Now we’re getting to it. Jealous, huh? You’re wishing I were twisting you.
Tessa: That’s a stretch, even for your inflated ego.
Me: Since you’ve heard the rumors, you know I can stretch you out and knot you up in ways that would have you losing your voice, forgetting your name, and walking crooked for a week. But that’s not what this escorting is about. Get your mind out of the gutter, Dollface.
That term of endearment will have her fuming. I wish I could get out of this godforsaken meeting and pull up the cameras at Café L’Ambroisie. I wonder if she’s as distracted as me.
Tessa: That’s a good point. Jealousy has no place here. I can be open-minded. So, you’ll be going where I go? And doing what I do?
That sounds flirty. She’s undoubtedly fucking with me, but I can almost hear her provocative rasp relay those words, and all coherent thoughts leave the goddamn building.
Me: Consider me a shadow from here on out.
Tessa: A shadow? This will certainly keep things interesting.
Still reeling me in. She probably has those mouthwatering legs crossed, black boots tapping, victory curling her plush lips because she’s about to flay me open. Tessa Lockhart is lethal, a cautionary tale to any man. She could decimate the entire male species with a smile on her face. If that isn’t the most erotic image I’ve ever had, I don’t know what is.
I’m fucking sick.
My brothers drone on in the background, but times like this require prioritizing. And being ensnared by the enchantinggoddess, even if only over a text thread, is most definitely at the top of my list.
Because the thing is, I saw the way she looked at me today. She was salivating. She masked it well, but there was a shiver or two, a few lust-drenched flashes in those Caribbean blues. Her scent matches those beautiful eyes. Sugar, vanilla, and pineapple. Like a piña colada. It’s too whimsical for her, which somehow makes perfect sense.
