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Knox

Page 164

by Alex Vandra

For a second, I’m dangling two stories above the gardens, held entirely by his strength. He lowers me slowly, his biceps straining with the weight.

Then, he stops.

I look up, thinking something happened, but Knox hauls me all the way back up until we are face-to-face again, and he grins before leaning in and kissing me.

I pull back, glaring at him, my feet dangling in midair.

“Show-off,” I accuse, though I immediately lean right back in to kiss him again.

“Okay, for real this time,” he chuckles.

“But can you hum my Jasmine song?” I joke, not expecting him to do it, but to my surprise, he does.

“Na, na, na, na na naaaa! Nana na na na, naaaa na.”

I burst out laughing as he lowers me over the edge once more.

This time, he doesn’t stop.

I feel his hands slide along my arms, moving from my armpits to my biceps, then down to my forearms. He holds himself with one hand and bends down as far as he can, buying us every single inch.

“Almost there,” I call up, looking at the floor below. “Another foot and I can let go…”

Knox grits his teeth, letting his grip slide all the way down to my hands.

“Okay! I’m good!”

“Let go on three and bend your knees when you land,” Knox calls down. “One… two… three.”

He lets go.

I drop the last few feet, landing on the second-floor balcony. I look up, the light from the suite illuminating Knox’s silhouette, and give him a triumphant thumbs-up.

“See you at the front entrance!” I blow him a kiss, turn on my heel, and slip inside the open doors of the suite, unaware that someone in the shadows saw the whole thing.

CHAPTER 21

KNOX

I pull on the most elegant suit I own, the same one I’ve worn to the last twenty weddings I’ve attended, and check the time.

It’s almost nine in the morning.

I take a deep breath, trying to force myself to relax, but it’s useless. Today is the day of the auction, and I’m stressed as hell.

Not because of the ridiculous sums about to be bid, but because the stalker has been quiet.

Way too fucking quiet.

Which can only mean two things: he’s either waiting for an opening to kill Cillian, or he’s holding off for backup.

Either way, his silence is bad news.

I pick up my Beretta, eject the magazine to confirm it’s full, snap it back into place, and secure the gun in my holster.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

I pull the door open to find Cillian standing in the hallway, looking as sexy as ever.