Page 236 of Vicious Temptation

I begin drying his hair, working the towel carefully through his curls. There’s nowhere we need to be. For as long as he needs it, he can stay right here with me.

Dinner is quiet.

After a few small bites, Thiago gives me a warm smile, letting me know without saying anything that he likes it. I don’t take it personally when he stands a few minutes later and carries his still half-full plate to the counter.

“It was really good, chama. Thank you.”

When I stand, he pulls me into a tight hug and presses a kiss to my forehead.

I hold him a little longer than usual, breathing in the clean scent of his T-shirt. It’s one of several pieces of clothing he’s left here, all of which have slowly found a place in my closet, just like he’s found a place in my life.

“Come on,” I say, taking his hand. “Let’s get some sleep.”

I give him the bathroom first, letting him brush his teeth and take his time. But when I finish and walk into the bedroom, he’s gone.

“Thiago?” I check the guest room, kitchen, and living room, but there’s no sign of him. “What the hell?” Stopping in the middle of the condo, I remember the rooftop, and I run. I don’t even wait for the elevator doors to finish opening before I step inside. “If you’re not up there, I’m going to kill you, Braga.”

I close my eyes for the brief ride, silently willing him to be there. When the doors slide open, I finally breathe again. He’s lying in the hammock, staring up at the stars.

But it doesn’t take away the uneasiness that’s been following me all night. I know what happened today was horrific, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something else weighing on him.

He’s grieving, I remind myself. That has to be all this is.

As I cross the terrace, his eyes find mine, and he reaches for me. I climb into the hammock beside him, resting against his chest the same way he rested against mine in the bath. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear as his fingers move lazily up and down my back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay.” I tilt my head to look at him. “You needed some air. I get it.”

He swallows.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter now.

There’s something different about this apology, but I can’t figure out what.

“Tomorrow is for talking,” I murmur, pressing a kiss over his heart. “Tonight, just let me hold you.”

Fifty-Eight

thiago

Ispot her before she notices me.

The late afternoon sun catches the black paint of her motorcycle as she pulls away from the curb. I smile as I watch her and hang back, letting a few cars separate us before easing onto the gas.

Chasing her has become a game between us, even if she likes to pretend she isn’t playing.

Her head tilts as she checks her mirror. I can’t see her eyes behind the dark visor, but I know the exact moment she spots me. Her shoulders stiffen for the briefest second before relaxing, and then she slips through traffic with a fluidity that borders on reckless.

I’ve watched her ride enough to know better.

There’s a confidence in everything Remi does when she’s in control of a machine, whether she’s in the driver’s seat, beneath the hood, or balanced on two wheels with the city rushing past her. Sometimes I don’t think she realizes how remarkable she is.

Three days ago, I showed up at her apartment falling apart, and she knew exactly what I needed before I did. I still don’t know what made me go there instead of home. I only knew that I needed to be with the one person who made me feel like I didn’t have to hold it all together, and that instinct led me straight to her door.

The irony isn’t lost on me. I was sent into Remi’s life to find her weaknesses, and she became mine.

We stop at a red light with her bike idling beside my loaner SUV, and I take the opportunity to shamelessly admire her. With one boot planted on the pavement, she turns toward me, flips up her visor, and winks.