He follows to his feet, close enough that the energy between us shifts. “You can…”
I register his hesitation, but don’t stick around to dwell. His nearness has me humming like a tuning fork, every nerve lit and vibrating. I start toward the hall, only to have him block my path.
He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t have to. The space between us narrows to a breath. One I can’t quite catch.
“You’re free to leave,” he clarifies. “But you should stay until morning to ensure all those involved have heard the statement and are satisfied with the outcome.”
A chill trickles down my spine, born of something far more dangerous than fear.
My focus should be on the threat in his words. On “all those involved.” Instead, it snags on the perilous promise of staying until morning.
He’s so close the spice of his cologne coils in my chest, tightening my lungs. For a heartbeat too long I’m caught remembering the way he touched me. His soft lips. The hard length of his?—
Reality slaps. He’s talking about his brother.
The son of a bitch that has my cat.
“Do you trust me enough to stay another night?” Raffael asks.
“Evidently, my trust hasn’t had a functioning radar for quite some time. But…” The thought of his brotherisconcerning. “I’d contemplate staying given some concessions.”
“Which are?” His voice is composed. Measured. He’s back to being the disciplined CEO.
I need to get my ovaries under control and follow suit. “I want you to call Eliseo and ensure the safe return of Nyra.”
“It’s already been done. He’ll look after her until you get back.”
I level him with a scowl.
“You don’t need to worry,” he mutters. “Eli is capable of a lot of things, but hurting defenseless animals isn’t one of them.”
“I don’t care.” I want her home. Safe. Away from someone harboring a twisted vendetta. “You’ll have him return her immediately, and I’ll organize Quinn to feed her.”
The muscles around his jaw flex. “Consider it done. Anything else?”
A seed of unease takes root in my gut.
This is exactly why I shouldn’t have slept with him. I can’t stop staring at his mouth, remembering the taste of him, wondering what he’d do if I fisted his shirt and pulled him closer.
“I want to return to the guest cabin. And regaining cell service is non-negotiable.” I raise my chin, resolute.
His nostrils flare.
He doesn’t want to concede, and the sick and twisted part of me wonders whether it’s because of the change in sleeping arrangements or the access to the outside world.
“If I leave now I’ll be able to use my phone as soon as I disembark,” I argue. “…Unless you don’t really plan to take me back.”
“I said you’re free to leave,” he growls.
Yes, that’s what he said.
It’s just in direct conflict with his deep, snarly tone.
“I need to message Quinn. And I’ll have a million spot fires waiting in my inbox. If staying is important, internet access is part of the deal.”
“Fine. But understand, the seriousness of this situation hasn’t changed. The agreement can’t become common knowledge.”
“I’m pretty sure my humiliation tab is maxed out. The last thing I want is more people in the loop.”
