Why the hell didn’t Martin drop Sabrina at the gate?
Why does Sabrina keep lettin’ her arm rest against mine when she hasn’t touched me in two weeks?
Did that motorcycle ride remind her of how good things are when we aren’t tryin’ to keep each other at arm’s length?
“If we do this, I don’t ever want to see your face again.” Boss’s words interrupted Hew’s ruminations. “In fact, if you ever come within ten miles of BKI , then you’d best be prepared for us to get real inhospitable.”
“I’d say you have my word.” The assassin lifted her hands. “But something tells me my word won’t mean much to you.”
Boss snorted. “That’s the understatement of the century.” Then he smacked the table—his standard gesture when the meeting was over and it was time to make tracks. “Okay. I’ve got some calls to make. Hew? You mind staying here and keeping an eye on her while I do that?”
Hew wanted to say, I do mind.
The simple act of sitting across from Black Widow made his skin crawl. She tainted the air around her with her villainy.
But, of course, he dipped his chin and replied, “Ayuh.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Sabrina volunteered.
Hew was quick to correct her. “You’ll go with Boss.”
Her chin tilted stubbornly. “In case you missed it, I’m not a kid. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I can insist very vociferously,” he countered as their gazes clashed and their wills warred.
She wasn’t a kid. She was a woman. All woman, emphasized by that damn dress that left little to the imagination and hugged her curves.
Never in his whole life had he been jealous of a piece of clothing.
He was jealous of that dress.
“Kinky,” Black Widow purred, glancing between them with a smile that could only be described as lascivious.
Sabrina’s gaze snapped to the assassin, her upper lip curling in disgust.
Hew could barely resist the urge to strangle Black Widow because she’d ruined a…
What?
What had just passed between him and Sabrina? If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was sexual tension. But that couldn’t be right. Could it?
She was with Martin. She’d put on that damned dress for Martin.
“Don’t forget we still have a second option,” Hew snarled at the assassin. “We could kill ya and all our problems would be solved.”
Black Widow’s greasy smile faded as her eyes narrowed into slits.
“Come with me, Sabrina.” Boss’s tone brooked no argument as he stood from the table.
Sabrina still tried to argue. “But?—”
“Hew doesn’t need any distractions,” Boss interrupted. “And you’re definitely a distraction.”
Sabrina’s expression turned sullen as she glanced between Hew and the assassin. Then, her gaze softened, and Hew didn’t miss the worry in her eyes when she said, “Will you be okay?”
Ayuh. He’d definitely been imagining things earlier. What he’d mistaken for sexual tension was just her concern for him. Just her trying to be his friend and show her solidarity by remaining with him to guard Black Widow.
Fuck.
