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Shay spun, hand shooting to her racing heart. “Are you trying to kill me?” she hissed, her pulse pounding under her fingertips.
Roman was leaning against the wall by a door that had a maintenance sign nailed to its surface. One of his booted feet was braced against the wall at his back, cigarette in hand. “If I tried to kill you, pup, you’d be dead before you realized what I was doing.” He motioned to the pool behind her, the silver rings on his fingers glinting. “That would’ve given you one nasty concussion.”
With reluctance, she turned—
The pool was bone-dry. Debris and an old buoy sat at the bottom.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered. It was boiling out, even at night, and even when she was dressed like—
She spun back around in time to see Roman’s eyes slowly moving up her body, lingering on the slope of her backside…and the ruched center in the bottoms of her swimsuit. Males had shown interest in her since she’d hit puberty, but for some reason it felt different when the attention was coming from Roman Devlin.
She couldn’t decide if it was a good different.
Shay crossed her arms over her breasts, well aware that her nipples were poking against her bathing suit—and well aware that he was now looking right at them, his stare potent enough to burn. “What are you doing out here?” she said tightly.
“Smoking. What’s it look like?” He lifted the cigarette to his mouth. He was so buried in shadows, she could hardly see him. They clung to him like pets to their master, as if magnetized to him.
Shay cleared her throat. “Can I have some?”
A beat of silence.
And then he pushed off the wall and stalked toward her, not stopping until he practically walked right into her. With his stare still fixed on her, he offered up the cigarette. Smoke streamed between them, curling up toward the stars.
She took it from him, being careful not to touch his hand, and took a drag. Roman watched her mouth the whole time, even after she’d blown out the smoke and offered the cigarette back. Her eyes stung and watered, and she had the prickling urge to cough.
He didn’t even try to make an effort not to touch her as he took it back, his hand closing over hers. He pinched the cigarette out of her fingers and took another drag. As Shay watched him, she couldn’t help but think how they’d both had their mouths on the same thing.
Nope, that was bad. A very bad thought.
Smoke puffed out his nose. “You’re not a smoker,” he observed.
Her lips parted in surprise.
His attention fell to her mouth again, and the corner of his twitched, deepening a nearby scar in his cheek. “You can’t hide everything from me, Shayla.” He wet his lips, the stud in his tongue flashing like a tiny silver star.
And then he left, and Shay watched him go.
Just before he disappeared around the corner, she felt the string of her bathing suit bottoms lift on one side—
And snap back down, stinging her flesh.
Her hand flew to her ass. “Roman!” she shrieked. What in the hells—
Her only answer was a dark, sinful chuckle from around the bend, the sound quickly fading along with the crunch of his footsteps.
She shook her head, rubbing the stinging skin, wondering how it was possible that it suddenly felt less dark out here than it had a moment ago, as if the shadows had followed him. “Did he just do that?” she said to no one.
His shadows, maybe? Could he—they—do that?
She shook her head, her thoughts drifting aimlessly about.
Nugget was staring up at her from the ground, accusation in his round, glittering eyes.
“Don’t even start,” Shay warned.
And then she collapsed in one of the poolside loungers, not wanting to go back in the room and be near Roman again so soon.
“What?” Shay hissed to Nugget, who still watched her with implication. She threw up her hands. “I didn’t do anything.”
