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Fear still lingered, but it was laced with excitement.
Jameson dropped his hand again, and a wave of disappointment followed in the wake of the heat that faded away.
My body hummed with need. I was wet. Jameson was turning me on, and he hadn’t even touched me.
When he took a deep breath, his eyes changed. They became a dark onyx, the blue giving way to the blackness. Those were the eyes of his bear—I didn’t need to see him shift to know that.
His eyes trailed down my neck and onto my chest, where my neckline scooped low.
Jameson swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving with the motion. When he looked into my eyes again, the blackness had disappeared. The bear was gone, and the man had returned.
“I’ll show you to the restroom,” he said.
“Thank you,” I breathed.
Jameson reached behind me to open the door. How had it closed? Had I closed it?
When he did, it pushed him right up against me. His face was fractions from mine, and his lips parted. He glanced down at them, and for a split second, I thought he was going to kiss me.
Iwantedit. My lips tingled with the same anticipation, and his magic brushed up against me.
Jameson stepped back and opened the door for me. It broke the spell.
“After you,” he said, letting me walk through the door first.
What a gentleman.
A gentleman with a dagger in my dad’s face.
When I stepped out, he followed behind me, and I was painfully aware of his magic. When he fell into stride next to me, he was calm and collected again. The power had retreated, and the tension had been broken.
Still, my lips tingled as if he’d already kissed me, and my fox didn’t cower away from him. In fact, she leaned in.
I glanced at Jameson, but he was stoic, staring straight ahead as we walked.
5
OAKLEE
I’d made a mistake. Working at the club was more dangerous than I’d thought. I’d figured no one would know who I was—I’d taken my mom’s maiden name after she’d died, so there wouldn’t be a way to trace me back to my dad. He’d skipped out on us before he’d known that I existed, so no one who’d known him here in LA would have known me.
Everyone had always said I looked more like my mom, and now that I was old enough to be on my own, no one needed to know who my parents were.
Jameson couldn’t know that I was Tate Armstrong’s daughter.
Still, if he did… I would be dead. There was no doubt about that. Jameson had lost a lot because of my dad, and if he knew who I was, he wouldn’t have any mercy for me. Not after what Nadia had told me.
Not after what I’d seen on his desk.
“I think I should quit,” I said to Nadia when she arrived at my place. I’d sent her a message to come over the moment I’d gotten home. It had been five in the morning, and she’d still been asleep. Now, it was eight, and she’d come over before heading to work.
“What?” Nadia asked. She nursed a cup of instant coffee, sitting on the only couch I owned. “Why?”
“If he finds out who I am, I’m dead.”
“Is it too early to say, ‘I told you so’?”
I rolled my eyes and told her about the dagger I’d seen, buried in a photo of my dad.
