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Chapter 10
Zara
Lukeistenseandquiet on the drive back to the Strip. When we pull in, the valet takes his keys, and he opens my door. His hand stays at the small of my back as we walk into the hotel, but he doesn’t say a word until we get into the elevator.
“My cousin gave a confession to the police tonight. Jamie wants me to bring you back to New York so he can interrogate you about what you know. We believe it was a false confession.”
I eye him as he shifts uncomfortably. “And you don’t want to take me back to New York. Why is that?”
“Jamie is a mean bastard. And he doesn’t have anything against hurting a woman.”
“At least his violence isn’t sexist?” I try to joke. But there are knots in my stomach and this is no laughing matter. What have I gotten myself into?
Luke graces me with a small smile at my terrible joke before he backs me against the wall of the elevator and cages me in with his arms on either side of me. “Zara, I don’t know you. But I’m drawn to you. And while some may think I’m a monster, I’m not just going to hand you to him.”
He cups my cheek and for a moment I’m sure he’s going to kiss me, but then he blinks and strokes a thumb along my jaw. “He’s threatened to come for you himself if I don’t deliver you, though. For now, I’ve told him I let you go because you don’t have any useful information. But I can’t say how long that story will hold. I may have told him you were already on your way to France, so hopefully that will keep him off of us for a few days.”
My mind races as I try to formulate an escape plan. I’ve got two passports and several fake IDs. Most of them are locked up in a different state, though. And most of my stuff is in France where I’m supposed to be right now. There are a number of men I could call to get me out of the country.
“Don’t even think about it, Zara. You’re not running. I’ll protect you.”
“You forced me to come here. How can I trust you?”
He cups my face and kisses my forehead, making my pulse race even faster. “Maybe you can’t. But it’s the only option you have right now.”
The elevator doors slide open, and we step into the foyer of the penthouse. Without a word, I make a beeline for my room. I need to think, and I can’t do that with him boring holes into me with those fucking intense gray eyes.
“Stop.”
His words bring me to a halt, and I turn to face him. His expression is fierce, but I also see lust in his eyes. The same lust I’ve had burning in me since I first laid eyes on him. But I can’t handle so many feelings at once. Before I make another move, I need five minutes alone to get my bearings, so I don’t make stupid decisions. “I just want to be alone for a minute, please.”
After several long seconds, he nods, and I run to my room.
When my door is closed, I suck in a deep breath and pull out my phone, trying to decide who to call first. He told me not to run. That I don’t have a choice. But I always have a choice. My life is exactly the way I want it because I made sure I always have a choice.
I’m not going to just sit here and wait for his crazy mafia family to come and slit my throat. He isn’t the first criminal I’ve dealt with, but this is the first time I’ve gotten wrapped up in crime family drama. Hopefully, I live long enough for this story to make it into my memoirs.
As I scroll my contacts, I can’t come up with a single person I want to go to for a favor. Everyone is too powerful, not powerful enough, or too shady. Before I approach someone for something like this, I have to be absolutely sure they can help me and that they aren’t going to double-cross me and hand me over to the Bowdens.
Right now, Luke says he’s not going to turn me over to Jamie. But it could be a trap. Something tells me it’s not. I can’t place why, but Luke is different. There is tension between him and the head of the Bowden family, for one. And my gut says he’s not a monster. From every angle, staying is the best option until I can come up with a better plan that doesn’t involve begging a client for help or running to my grandparents and potentially putting them in danger.
Squaring my shoulders, I set the phone down and walk back into the common area. My heart nearly stops when I catch sight of him. He’s shed his expensive suit jacket and is rolling his sleeves to his elbows. Why is that such a turn-on when a man does that? I’ve never been able to figure it out.
He glances up at me and smiles. “I was just about to pour a drink if you want one.”
“That seems like a good idea.” I move to a sofa and sit while he pours us each an expensive glass of whiskey.
“Cheers,” he says when he hands me mine.
He sits in the chair next to the couch and places his drink on the end table. “Something tells me you’re more amenable to staying with me now. What’s changed?”
He must be tired because his Irish accent is thicker tonight. Usually there’s barely a hint of it in his voice, like he works hard to cover it and sound more generic.
“Right now, it makes the most sense. I don’t have another plan. And I try to always do what makes the most sense.”
“Smart girl.”
“So, what now?” I ask, twisting my drink in my hand, trying to avoid his intense gaze.
