“You just made every person on that lawn realize Gage King has a problem.” He issued a smirk. “Or an ally.”
This time, Rafael answered. “Both.”
He hadn’t shot off to start a war. Just to make sure no one forgot who else had firepower.
And who he’d use it for.
The knock on her door came at 4:04 p.m.
About the time Bea had almost stopped analyzing the way Rafael had looked at her.
She opened the door, expecting olives. Or a polite reminder to dress appropriately for the black-tie dinner, in case she forgot.
Instead, it was Gage—unfortunately no longer in tactical gear, but still walking with the gait of a man who’d earned something on the battlefield. She had a feeling she knew exactly how he wanted to be rewarded.
“It’s not time to go down yet.”
“I know.” He stepped inside.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to come in.”
He didn’t respond. Just turned the lock.
Click.
That wasnotthe sound of restraint. That was the sound of a woman panicking because she was about to be ruined against furniture that might be heritage listed. “You’re definitely not supposed to lock the door.”
“I’ll be gone in ten minutes,” he said. “Twelve, if you don’t cooperate.”
“What does that mean?” Her breath caught as he moved toward her.
“It means”—his voice lowered—“I’m here to collect my prize.”
“From me?”
“That’s right.”
“Can I give you an IOU?” she asked, lips twitching.
He followed the smile.
“We’ll get caught,” she whispered.
“No, we won’t.”
“There are rules.”
“I’m aware.”
She was against the edge of the antique writing desk now. Gage’s hand landed on the wood beside her hip, his body not quite touching hers, but every part of her felt him. Her legs had lost structural integrity. Her moral compass was on fire. “There aregrandmothers, Gage.”
“They don’t have good hearing.”
“I have it on good authority these ones do.”
“So you’ll have to be very quiet.” His other hand found her waist. Drew her toward him.
She should say something rational. Circumspect. Something other thanyes, please. “Isabel said no sheet-shaking.”
