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"I’d rather come to grips with you."
"If you think you can simply barge back into my life and into my bed, think again."
His features soften, "I wasn’t planning on that, Karma. I merely wanted to see you. It’s Christmas, and I missed my wife. I wanted to be with you."
"So, you hopped a flight—"
"I flew the plane."
"Of course, you did." I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Is there anything this man can’t do? "You flew the plane, and tracked me down—Shit!" I slap my forehead, "The stupid tracker. Of course, you tracked me down. You knew exactly where I was all this time."
He doesn’t reply.
Damn it… Somehow, the fact that he had tagged me, so all he had to do was literally look at a screen and find me… Makes everything somewhat less than what it should be.
"What are you thinking?" he asks softly.
When I don’t reply, he shoots me a sideways glance, "I know you hate the fact that I could find you so easily..."
I don’t reply and his jaw tics. A pulse flares to life at his temple and he seems like he’s about to slam on the brakes and tell me off, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns the corner and the hotel looms in front of us. He eases into a slot at the entrance, then shuts off the engine. He reaches behind his seat, grabs a duffel bag, then gets out. He slings the bag across his chest, then walks around, to open my door. I slide out, then brush past him and head for the hotel entrance. Behind me, I hear him speaking to the valet who agrees to park the car and deposit the key with the concierge.
We enter the elevator, and damn him, but his size dwarfs the space. "If you think you are staying the night, you have another think coming."
"Ask me to stay," he growls.
"That’s never happening." I swipe my hair over my shoulder. "What’s with the get up anyway?"
"Get up?"
"The jeans and jacket and boots thingy you have happening?"
He glances down at himself, then back at me. "What’s wrong with it?"
"Nothing’s wrong with it." It’s perfect, actually. That entire mussed-up, sexy look he has going on is bloody hot. It makes me want to throw myself at him and wrap my legs around his waist. "If you think that’s going to help you blend in with the crowds, you thought wrong."
"I was trying to dress down, yes," he raises a shoulder, "was trying for a casual look, I suppose."
Only, he’d never blend into a crowd. Hell, my Capo will always stand head and shoulders above anyone else. He’ll always command attention, always suck up the oxygen in any room that he walks into. He’ll always be a leader, and no matter how much he tries to disguise that part of himself, it won’t work.
"Next time, don’t try so hard," I drawl.
"Next time, don’t lie."
"Ha," I snort, "I am not lying.
"You are."
I shrug, turn away, and he makes a sound deep in his throat. "Don’t look away when I am talking to you," he snaps.
"A-n-d there he is." I throw up my hands, "If you think you going all macho on me is supposed to make me all hot and bothered, you are wrong."
He closes the distance between us so quickly that I yelp. He backs me up into the wall, then slaps his hand on the stop button. The elevator jolts to a halt and I gasp.
"Wh…what are you doing?" I squeak.
"You may deny that you still have feelings for me, but your body says otherwise."
"It…it… Doesn’t."
