I wake from a deep, dreamless sleep, and Angelo’s gone.
He’s not in bed. He’s not in the bathroom. His side of the bed is cold and the sheets are pulled up to the bottom of the pillow like he wanted to hide his tracks. There’s no sign that he was here at all.
Except there’s coffee in the living room and a note. Breakfast is in the minifridge. I’ll be back later. A.
I sit on the couch, eat some fruit, have a little yogurt with granola, and stare around the room.
I feel like I’m seeing it for the first time. It’s not opulent, but it’s extremely nice—the sort of hotel room meant to impress guests. Except Angelo couldn’t have expected anyone would come here. That man acts like he’s nothing more than a common street thug and talks about his past like he’s on the edge of poverty, but he stays in places like this and dresses in thousand-dollar suits and expensive shoes and he looks like he’s dripping with cash.
Maybe that’s the old Angelo, the poor kid from a poor family, and this is the new one. A man that worked hard to get somewhere. A man that did things he never imagined he would.
I can be like that. I can do things, hard things. Whatever I need to do to get ahead.
And one of those things includes not kissing him anymore.
“Well, shit,” I whisper to myself. When I’m done eating, I decide to take advantage of this room while I can and head into the bathroom to take a bath.
I sink back into the water. I leave my phone in the other room and try to relax, but my mind keeps drifting back to that kiss last night. I keep seeing the look on his face, the pure desire in his eyes. And while that’s not great, it’s better than obsessing about my apartment. About what kind of life I’m going to have once this is all over, if it’ll ever be all over.
A door opens and closes in the other room. My heart starts racing and I jump out of the tub. I feel stupid, but I dry myself in a hurry, put on one of those big white terrycloth robes, and poke my head out of the bathroom. I’m safe in here, I’m safe in here, but what if I’m not? Whoever could kill five cartel members and get away with it could easily break into a hotel room and finish me off.
“Hello?” I sneak toward the living room, heart racing. “Angelo?”
I find him standing near the TV, looking surprised. His head tilts to the side and his gaze moves from my wet hair to my lips and down to my chest—
I realize the front of my robe’s hanging open. Not enough to let him see something he shouldn’t, but enough to give him a show. I suck in a breath and pull it closed, glaring hard.
“You scared me,” I snap and level my best ice-queen stare at him. “Next time, say something.”
“I wasn’t aware I needed to announce myself in my own room. Besides, I told you I was out and that I’d be back.”
“I didn’t know that meant back soon or—” I cross my arms. “Where were you, anyway?”
“Your apartment.” He gestures at a bag near the front door. “I figured you’d need some stuff.”
My anger fizzles. I stare at my big duffel bag, at the familiar green and silver with the rainbow threads wrapped around the handle and the tiny blue-haired troll doll dangling from the zipper.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“No, I didn’t, but I did it anyway. You’re welcome.”
I stride over, grab the suitcase, and drag it back into the room. “Thanks.”
“The place looks clear, by the way,” he calls as I shut the bedroom door, lock it, and start going through what he grabbed. More toiletries, more clothes, lots of practical stuff. Even a few work outfits, which I’m insanely grateful for. “Nobody was watching it.”
I lay out an outfit. Slacks and a conservative blouse. “How do you know?” I call back.
“I checked.” His voice is right outside of the door, but he doesn’t try the knob. “Believe it or not, I do this a lot.”
I pause for a second, wondering if he can barge in here, and decide to take the risk. I remove the robe and start getting dressed. “What about the rest of the apartment? Any clues left behind?”
“Nothing and I checked for that too. It looks like whoever broke in went to town and threw everything around, but that felt a little too…” He trails off.
“A little too what?”
“Obvious. Like that’s what they wanted us to think, or at least that’s what they want the cops to think if you got them involved. Like it’s clearly a robbery gone awry or something.”
“But they didn’t take anything worthwhile.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Once my clothes are on and I feel halfway decent, I walk over and open the door. He’s leaning against the wall to my right and looks me up and down. “You’re in your armor.”
“I wish I had real armor. Then at least I’d feel safe around you.”
He laughs as I brush past him and go get some more coffee. I managed to grab some sleep, but not much sleep, and now I’m dragging.
“Let’s not pretend like you feel nervous with me around, my frigid princess.”
“Do not bring up last night.”
“Why? You invited me into your bed. You feel safe with me.”
“I feel like it was a mistake to let my guard down.”
“You kissed me.”
I turn on him as my anger flares. “You kissed me, and I was too tired and stupid to stop you.”
“You moaned, princess.” He’s grinning at me. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing right now and I’m falling into his trap but I can’t help it.
“Just because I have an involuntary intake of breath—”
“My god, you must be the best lawyer in the world if you just came up with that insanity. Involuntary intake of breath?”
“It was a physical reaction. Absolutely no moaning occurred last night.”
He barks a laugh, looking delighted and mystified. “You moaned, princess. You whimpered!”
“I absolutely did not whimper. Again, that was an involuntary—”
“Yes, I get it, involuntary intake of breath. Shit, Nicolas is all but free already if you bring this energy to his case.”
I ball my hands into fists and glare at him down. I can’t let him think this is all some big joke. “Angelo, last night was a mistake. I was tired and not in a good place. I shouldn’t have invited you to sleep in bed with me and it won’t happen again.”
“I never thought it would.”
“Good. We can agree on that then.”
“But you are staying here for a while. No, I don’t want to hear it. You may think you need to protect yourself from involuntary intakes of breath whenever I’m around, but trust me, whoever flipped your apartment is much worse than me.”
I brush his stupid joke aside and let that sink in. “I’ll stay in the hotel, but I’m getting my own room.”
“No. You’re staying right here where I can see you.” The intensity of his stare makes my spine buzz. “I get you think I’m a lousy asshole, and that’s fine. But princess, I am absolutely not letting you out of my sight until whoever fucked with your apartment is behind bars for a long time.”
“Fine.” I put my hands on my hips. “Anything else?”
“One more thing.” He gets himself some coffee. “We’re meeting with the manager in an hour.”
“Excuse me?”
“The manager at Two Lane Inn. He was there during the murder and we’re going to talk to him.” He checks his watch. “I was told he starts work at noon.”
“I’m sorry, you were told? By whom?”
“The very nice girl that answered the phone when I called. Oh, don’t give me that look, I’m sure she’s not as pretty as you.”
I roll my eyes. “You can’t do that. You can’t set up interviews and make calls without my input.”
He puts a hand over his heart. “My word, I didn’t know I was crossing some invisible barrier. Next time I’ll wake you up from your deep slumber to get permission.”
“Are you always such a prick?”
“I think I’m wonderful.”
“I bet you do. I need to get ready.” I brush past him and head to the bedroom.
“You snore, by the way.”
“And sleeping next to you is like lying in a bed full of hot coals.” I slam the door and stand on the other side, trembling. Inviting him into my bed last night was a mistake—
But staying here for the foreseeable future is going to be much, much worse.
