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He grasped me gently by the elbows. “You could never bore me.”
I licked my lips, a thrill shooting up my spine when his eyes were immediately drawn to them. I stared at his in turn, curious to know what they’d feel like. If he kissed me, would he be rough and hungry? Or would he be gentle and sweet?
I desperately wanted to find out and leaned in, drawn to him like a magnet. Where was the harm in a simple kiss?
Jesse stood up abruptly and pulled away, nothing but cold air remaining in his place. “You should go to bed,” he said, clearing his throat. “We’ll be going to the police station in a couple hours. They’ll have lots of questions for you.”
My stomach flipped as my face filled with heat. I’d never been so embarrassed in my entire life. “R-right. Yeah, I’ll—” I slipped off my seat, my legs like jelly beneath me. “Yep, mm-hmm. You should go to bed, too.”
Jesse nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “I will.”
I scurried back to the guest room and crawled beneath the safety of the sheets. Thankfully, sleep dragged me under so that I only had to dwell on our almost-kiss in my dreams. Either way, my heart was racing and aching for more.
Chapter 12
Jesse
That was close. Too close.
ButGoddid I want to kiss her. I could have easily leaned in, circled my arms around her waist and held her against me. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though, no matter how much I craved to know the taste of her lips.
I’d been burned before. I wasn’t willing to do it again.
Besides, getting involved with my client was a recipe for disaster. I needed a clear mind and unshakeable focus, not to be distracted by a pair of pretty eyes and a dazzling smile. Giving into my desires would be… reckless.
The police station was a cacophony of noise and movement and unpleasant smells. Phones rang off the hook. Police chattered over their radios. Drunk tank imbeciles yelled through the bars demanding release. The whole place smelled of burnt coffee, printer ink, and sweat. If I found the place deplorable, I couldn’t imagine what Vivian must have thought.
This was no place for a sweet young thing like her.
Some greasy looking thug smacked his lips, whistling at her. “Hey, baby. Why don’t you come over here and take a look at a real man?”
I clenched my fist and set my jaw. What was with all the catcalling these days? First the bar, now here. Vivian couldn’t escape it. Men had no fucking honor. This wasn’t how they were supposed to treat a lady.
I was about to step in when she snapped, “And risk going blind? I’ll pass.”
I smiled, oddly proud. She could handle herself just fine.
A police officer guided us to a private interview room in the corner of the precinct. It wasn’t a grimy interrogation room, but a small office complete with a desk, two comfortable guest chairs, a couple of potted plants, a wall lined entirely of grey metal filing cabinets.
The man behind the desk —Detective Anderson Monroe— looked like he was fresh from the set of a noir mystery film. A thick moustache wedged between his nose and upper lip. A beer gut that the buttons of his shirt strained against. All that was missing was a lit cigar between his fingers and a dame out front working reception.
“Miss Jones,” he said. “Have a seat. I’m going to have to ask you to leave your friend outside.” Detective Monroe jabbed a chubby finger in my direction.
“I want him here,” Vivian insisted. She looked at me, like she wasn’t sure I’d stay.
“I’ll be a fly on the wall,” I said.
Detective Monroe huffed. “Whatever. Let’s get to work. I’ve got four other cases I need to attend to.” He slid three mugshots across the desk to show Vivian. “Do you recognize these men?”
“Yes. They’re the ones who attacked me.”
“Are you sure?”
She frowned. “Without a doubt.”
The detective hummed. “They’re confirmed members of the Azure Cartel. They’re facing aggravated assault and outstanding drug distribution charges, but I doubt anything’s going to stick.”
“Why not?”
