I relaxed. Back on even ground.
“Yeah, I guess so. I’m not the best at asking the questions,” I told him. Excusing my monumental fuckup in the best way I could.
“Me either. But let’s try that before we start sifting through each other’s dirty laundry,” Mason suggested with a smile.
“Deal.”
Then we were kissing again.
And I allowed myself, for the moment, to forget about the briefcase.
And what it meant that I was making out with the man who hunted me.
Chapter 9
Hannah
My legs were tangled in my sheets. They were new. Scratchy. I hated them. I’d have to throw them out.
This was what happened when you did all your shopping online. You never quite knew what you’d end up with.
The air was cool on my bare skin. My lips felt bruised. Tender. My body exposed. Alone in my bedroom, I imagined eyes on me. Watching me.
My stomach was a convoluted mess of tangles and knots and I felt faintly sick.
I stared up at the dark ceiling, momentarily hating myself.
I thought about Mason.
I wondered whether he was lying awake thinking of me.
I hoped he was.
But for reasons that worried me.
Tonight had been perfect. Everything had fallen into place just as I had planned.
I should be celebrating my success.
I had played the part just right.
So why did I want to scream?
“You wanna get out of here?”
He had given me the opening I needed.
I was in.
I had been within reach of what I was looking for.
I had to know how close he was.
What information he had.
The sense of self-preservation was thick. It propelled me to do things I would never otherwise entertain.
It made me deceive a stranger.
