I shrug, though the truth of it hits somewhere low in my chest. “Maybe. Or maybe I just learned not to trust my eyes.”
She smiles, but it’s soft, a little sad. Then she curls back into me, her fingers still tracing the words along my ribs like she’s trying to memorize them.
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like my past is something to hide.
Her touch drifts lower, brushing over the snake winding around my forearm, its scales tangled with dark petals.
“And this one?” she asks. “The snake and the flowers?”
I catch her hand, holding it still against my skin. “That is a long story. One I’ll tell you later.”
“Later?” she presses, eyebrow arched.
“Yeah.” I glance at the clock on the wall. “Because if we don’t get moving, we’re going to be late?—"
“What? Late?” Wariness creeps in around the edges of her soft voice.
She clutches the sheet to her chest as I stand, stretching before heading toward the bathroom. “Yeah,” I say over my shoulder. “We need to shower and get moving. We’re having dinner with the Thibaults.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, her expression shifts, just a flicker, but I catch it. Her mouth dips, her eyes narrowing before she smooths her features into something neutral. If I hadn’t been looking, I’d have missed it.
She doesn’t have to say a thing. She’s not a fan of Yasmine Thibault. Can’t blame her. Truth is, neither am I.
Still, I keep my tone light as I turn on the shower. “It’s just dinner. Business.” And I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself.
I know exactly what Yasmine wants, and it’s not a partnership deal. She’s been circling for a while, smiling too wide, leaning too close. I’ve made it clear I’m not interested, but she doesn’t take hints easily.
Maybe I should’ve drawn a harder line, especially now. It’d probably make Olivia feel better if I did. Hell, it’d makemefeel better. But Yasmine’s a necessary evil for the moment. Her father’s investment could open doors for my next restaurant project, and until I know which way that deal’s going, I have to play nice.
I catch Olivia watching me as I step into the bathroom doorway. There’s something in her look—curiosity, maybe a touch of disappointment—but she doesn’t voice it.
Part of me wishes she would. At least then I’d know where I stand.
Instead, I just give her a crooked grin. “Don’t worry,mon petit chou.It’s business, not pleasure.”
Her brow arches slightly, her lips pressing together like she’s weighing whether to believe me. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No. You didn’t have to.”
I turn on the shower, hot water steaming the room, and I let it swallow me.
“Do I have to come?” She rises from the bed, clutching the sheet like armor.
“Yeah, you do. If I could cancel, I would. But I can’t. They know I’m scouting Toronto and Vancouver and want to hear which way I’m leaning.”
She slips her shirt over her head, still holding the sheet against her body like she’s modest all of a sudden. The move shouldn’t be sexy, but somehow it is. She walks toward me, a faint crease between her brows.
“Which wayareyou leaning? Do you know?” She bites her bottom lip, teeth sinking into the soft pink flesh.
For a second, I forget what city we’re talking about. Hell, I forget what planet I’m on. All I can think about is her mouth. How good it feels. How much I want it again.
Later. Definitely later.
“Yeah.” I pull her close, her chest pressing against mine. “And I think you already know my preference.”
Before she can reply, I catch her mouth in a quick, deep kiss, my hand sliding into her hair. I nibble at her lower lip, tugging just enough to make her sigh against me. The sound shoots straight to my cock.
“Damn,” I murmur against her mouth. “I wish we could skip dinner.”
