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“It’s fine. He’s one of the best, and he’s taken my career to another level since I hired him four years ago. I consider him a friend. Hell, I was one of his attendants when he married his husband, Allen, last year. They’re lovely.”
And I’m frustrated. “There’s someone out there who—”
A knock on the door interrupts me. Sophie stiffens as I grab my weapon with one hand and gesture her to the back bedroom with the other. No one can see her.
But it’s just the kid delivering pizza, happy for the tip I give him and the cool air conditioning wafting his way from the cottage.
Less than a minute later, Sophie and I open the piping-hot pizza and the fizzy soda and dig in. It’s decent. Or maybe I think that because I’m hungry. But I lose my appetite for food quicker than I should when I hear Sophie moaning with every bite.
“It would be better if you didn’t do that.”
She looks perplexed. “Do what?”
“Moan while you eat.”
“It’s a bad habit I have whenever I eat something I love. If you think this is loud, you should hear me with white chocolate truffles.” She cocks her head. “Sorry. Does it bother you?”
“Do you want me to be honest?”
“Of course.”
Might as well get the truth out in the open. She’ll probably figure it out, anyway. “When you make those noises, all I think about is fucking you.”
Her eyes go wide. “That’s really honest.”
“I typically am. So if you don’t want me to think about dragging you to bed, peeling off everything you’re wearing, and kissing my way between your legs, eat quietly.”
Sophie
Heat flashes through my body. One look into his dark eyes tells me he’s serious.
Suddenly, I can’t think about anything except him naked, on top of me, pleasuring me before I please him in return.
Don’t be crazy. You barely know him. What if he’s the type to kiss and tweet?
“Actually, I’m full.” I set my pizza crust aside and rinse my plate.
“I shocked you. I’m sorry.” He approaches from behind, maintaining a professional distance.
But I’m painfully aware that all I have to do is turn and take a few steps to have my hands and lips on him.
I swallow back the impulse. I might not care much about putting my image in jeopardy anymore, but we’re two ships whose paths will probably never cross again. If I weren’t famous and I wasn’t running for my life, I’d jump on him—here and now. But I shouldn’t distract him.
“I”—wish I could say yes—“think I’ll take a nap. It’s not even two o’clock and it’s been a long day.”
“Can’t argue with that. Groceries will be ready in an hour.”
“Thanks.” I nod and head to the back bedroom—anything to put distance between us.
As soon as I’m alone, I shut the door and tear off the slightly scratchy sweater, then crawl between the sheets and close my eyes. I’m tired, but sleep won’t come. I can’t erase the pandemonium of the parade—or its terror. I also can’t escape the fact that Rand is in the next room, and I’ve never been more attracted to a man in my life.
Sleep isn’t happening.
What the hell am I going to do? I can’t hide in Granbury forever. How soon will this killer come after me again? I hate being a sitting duck, but it’s not safe in public until I find out who’s after me. And resisting my desire for Rand isn’t easy. Maybe I could do it for a few days…but what if our seclusion turns into weeks?
I close my eyes again. His face swims in my head—his dark, intent eyes. His scar. His brutally sensual mouth. I tingle when I remember the way he kissed me. I shudder at the memory of his hot stare when he said he thought about fucking me.
Maybe it’s all the stress, but I feel ready to explode. My options for relief are sorely limited.
