Page 250 of Vicious Temptation

Remi shakes her head before swinging a leg over mine and settling into my lap. “No.” She moves closer and loops her arms around my shoulders. “This trip is about you, baby. When we get home, you can ask me any questions you want.”

There’s still more I need to know, and my instincts tell me this isn’t something I can leave alone.

I won’t.

But Remi has spent the last forty-eight hours carrying this by herself because she wanted me to have yesterday with my father. If she needs the rest of tonight before we drag Philadelphia back into this room, I can give her that.

“I’m sorry, chama.” I lift her wrists and kiss each bruise. “I don’t want what they did to change how you see me.”

There are far worse things that will.

“I know how you feel about cops, and after something like this…”

“Stop.” Her hands glide up my arms, and one rests against my cheek. “That has nothing to do with you, baby. Those men made their own choices, and I’m not letting them take this from you.” She takes my hand and rests it against her chest, right over her heart. “It’s yours.”

I smile. “Mine.”

She kisses me, and I instantly stop thinking about Grey, Elena, and all the questions awaiting me back in Philadelphia.

When she pulls away, I take her hand and place it over my own heart.

“You feel that, chama?”

She nods.

“That’s all yours.”

Her smile widens, and she kisses me again as I wrap my arms around her and let myself be in this moment without thinking about everything waiting beyond it.

When we finally part, she laughs.

“We’re so gross right now.”

I laugh with her as I stand and lift her into my arms.

“I love…” The words nearly leave my mouth before I catch them.

Her eyes meet mine, but I grin and keep walking.

“I love everything about you, even your sweat.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Her laughter follows us into the en suite bathroom.

“Your idiot.”

“Unfortunately.”

Still holding her, I step into the walk-in shower without bothering to remove either of our sneakers. Water pours over us, soaking through our clothes within seconds.

I look at her and forget what I was about to say.

Wet hair clings to her face as droplets gather on her lashes and slide down her cheeks. The sight takes me straight back to the side of that road, to the first time I ever saw her in person. She was soaked through then, too, standing in the rain with a gun pointed at me as I tried to figure out how the woman I’d been sent to investigate had somehow caught me completely off guard.

I had no idea what she would become to me.

“He would’ve loved you,” I murmur into her neck. “My father. I know he would have.”