“Mm-hmm, sure.” She gave him a knowing look, then rattled off a list of names that made him nearly choke on his drink. “How are the Contessa twins doing? And wasn’t there someone named Bianca with the champagne bathtub photo?”
Nikos pursed his lips and stared at her. “We could play this game all day, but I think you’re enjoying it too much.”
Kiki smiled sweetly and took another bite of muffin.
He decided that a subject change was in order.
“What would you like todo today?”
She licked a crumb from her lip and shrugged. “Since it’s too chilly and windy to do much outside, I made us a reservation somewhere fun. Inside.”
The slow, sensual curve of her lips sent a jolt of heat through his blood.
His voice dropped slightly. “What kind of fun?”
She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s a surprise.”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s a quarter-past twelve.”
Her eyes went wide. “Crap—we’ve gotta go or we’ll be late!”
Before he could respond, she popped the rest of her muffin into her mouth, grabbed her hot chocolate, and stood.
He grabbed his coat and followed, motioning subtly to his guards as they exited the café. They peeled away from the entrance, blending into the sidewalk crowd a beat behind them.
Outside, Kiki pulled her hoodie up and quickened her pace down the street. Nikos caught up easily.
“Where are we going?”
“Not far,” she said, glancing up at the sky. “Three blocks, give or take.”
“I can have the car brought around.”
She snorted. “You do not want to park that luxury yacht where we’re going.”
His steps slowed. “I beg your pardon?”
She didn’t answer. Just cut down an alley like she’d done it a hundred times before.
His eyes narrowed, but he followed. The farther they went, the rougher the neighborhood became. The graffiti was older here. Faded. Layers upon layers of messages, warnings, and art. Shuttered buildings flanked them, windows boarded or barred.
Nikos’s alertness ticked up a notch. “You sure this is safe?”
Kiki paused in front of a metal gate attached to what looked like a gutted auto shop. “Trust me when I say I’m the most dangerous thing around here.” She released a snort of laughter before she shook her head and lifted an eyebrow. “You aren’t afraid of a little color, are you?”
“No, why?”
“Good.”
“Hey, Pedro!”
She twisted away from him without explaining further and called out a greeting to two men lounging outside a partially cracked door. Their voices rolled back to her in a dialect that sounded like English but wasn’t—not quite. Street slang layered thick and fast.
Nikos caught enough words to recognize admiration. Respect. Familiarity.
She turned and gave him a half-smile. “They said your bodyguards can come in too, if they want.”
“They’ll wait outside,” he replied.
