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Do that, and they know——whoever the fuck they are—I’m onto them. Right now, after the delivery kid and the guy who followed earlier, the guy who took off when I headed his way, I think I’m going to let them think they have one up.
What is it? Give the fuckers enough rope, and they’ll tie their own noose?
With a sigh, I get out, cross the road, and go inside.
* * *
I strip down to my boxer briefs, Avah still sprawled in my bed. I’m not sure she’s moved much. She looks even more delicious, more innocent in sleep.
Rubbing a hand over my beard that’s starting to grow in, I growl softly because I want nothing more than to crawl into that bed and drape her over me. Maybe somehow wake her to have my way with her.
Which I’m not going to do.
Instead, I head out to the kitchen and pour a glass of water, and in the semi-darkness go to the window and peek out through the small opening.
The car’s still there.
It’s midnight now, but Diego will be up, and right now, I need to tire myself out before going into that room.
Yeah, I know. I could fucking bunk down on the sofa or find the spare bed in the guest room that’s currently buried under a load of shit I need to sort. I don’t have guests, so snow gear and Kevlar and other stuff are in there. Things I need for special operations. Along with camping gear and the like. Sometimes, I like to take off by myself and camp. What can I say? I like me time.
I could go and do that, but fuck that. I’m not about to miss out on the sweet torture of getting into my bed with her and not doing a damn thing.
Grabbing my laptop from the coffee table, I put in the password and begin to surf the net deeper.
Picking up my phone, I call Diego. He answers on the second ring.
“Nico, what’s up? Thought you’d be fucking your new little piece by now.”
I breathe out. “Not when some fucker roofied her.”
There’s a moment’s silence. “Want some help in breaking skulls?”
“Been there, done that.” Almost, but y’know. Semantics.
“So, I ask you again, what the fuck is up?”
“I need some information. A few things, but let’s start with this license plate I have . . .”
ChapterEight
AVAH
My head hurts.
Opening an eye, I’m blinded by the horrible brightness of sunshine, and I turn, moaning, hitting a solid and warm body.
For a moment, panic rushes through my bones.
But then the man speaks. “Good morning,Tesoro.”
Relief rushes me, relief followed by swathes of heat. Bit and pieces come back. I put my fingers on burning cheeks. “How did I get so drunk?”
I expect laughter, but there isn’t any. He shifts, the covers rustling and my mouth goes dry.
There, in front of me, is a bare golden chest tattooed down and across his abs. I know he’s gorgeous, but this . . . this isn’t what I expect, and I also don’t expect my body to rev its engines and hurl itself into some kind of purring roar.
Tattoos haven’t ever been my thing, but oh, my, this man . . . he makes me rethink that. Completely.
