Chapter Three
Serafina
I shiver as Eagle’s heated gaze travels over my body. The man I used to know didn’t miss anything. So why doesn’t he recognize me? My voice is still the same, my smile, and my broken heart. Not because of anything he did. I made a conscious decision . . .
He’s wearing those custom made Tony Lama boots I love and a gold neck chain thicker than my thumb. A loaded gun is hidden underneath his vest. He offers me another wine cooler and I grab it. Hell, I’d drink a bottle of cheap tequila to settle my nerves. When he sits down again, I look into his blue eyes, fringed by dark lashes that match his black hair. He’s lean and tall, well over six feet. His jaw is dusted with stubble and I can see thick chest hair where his shirt is unbuttoned. Time hasn’t changed him. By the way my heart responds to his nearness, neither have my feelings.
How did I end up in a cabana with the one man I never expected to see again? Didn’t want to see. Old fears surface, followed by regret. Caleb Laramie rescued me from a living hell back then—and again today. That’s what my life has always been. But he can’t find out I’m alive. Not now, not ever. Never mind how much I want to kiss him, to feel those soft lips on mine, to remember what it felt like having his strong arms around me.
“I want to go home.”
He shakes his head. “Not now, darlin’. I want you to stay here for a while. Let things cool down before we head outside.”
“But Tony will worry. He’ll tear this house apart to find me.”
“Is that your escort?” He looks pissed. Maybe Eagle thinks I’m sleeping with Tony. Not that it should matter to him. I’m a perfect stranger, something I need to keep reminding myself of. Eagle doesn’t see Angel sitting in front of him—he sees me, thenewme.
I nod.
“He’s an idiot,” he observes bitterly as he takes a swig of beer. “If you were with me . . .” He doesn’t finish the thought, and I wonder why.
I raise an eyebrow, hopelessly curious. “What?”
“If I was your escort, you’d be safe, not fucking exposed to assholes like Tito.”
I nod, knowing perfectly well what Eagle would have done to any man who tried to hurt me when I was with him. “Anything else?”
“If you were mine, you wouldn’t be doing this.”
He’s right. Eagle didn’t share. He didn’t even like other men to look at me fully dressed. “Judgmental much?”
“Sure am,” he admits. “I can afford to be.” He stares unblinking. “So can you.”
“That’s the misstatement of the year. How do you know what I can afford?”
He sets his beer on the coffee table between us, then drapes his arm across the back of his chair like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Obligations?” he asks.
If he means mounting debt . . . “Hell yes.”
“Tell me about your life, Serafina.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
He exhales loudly. “Oh, I think there is.”
I glance up. My limbs melt under the weight of his stare. I stifle a nervous laugh. “I’m a part time student who strips on the weekends. End of story.”
He stretches his long legs out. “What’s your major?”
“Psychology.”
He nods. “Where’s your family?”
I dislike how personal and one-sided this conversation is. “Where’syourfamily?” I counter.
“Everywhere.”
“Omnipresence? That’s a superpower.”
