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“That’s between you and the Sandersons,” I say flatly. “If you remember anything else about Cora Lafayette, you know where to find me.”
“About that drink—”
“No.” I’m so done. And I’m already turning when I stop and throw a look back over my shoulder that I wish was scathing enough to banish him to hell.
“Ah. You disappoint me, Captain.” He holds up that bundle of—whatever the hell it is—clutched in his hand and breaths it in like potpourri.
Syrupy joy clouds his eyes.
My gaze flicks to Ros who’s basically out cold in his arms. She’s barely moved the whole time.
Holy shit.
Is he so out of it he’s abusing some nasty substance in public? I swear, if he’s here huffing some chemical shit, powdered opioids, cocaine, right in front of me—
My hand moves faster than my brain.
Lunging, I rip the thing away from him, spread it out, scanning the wine-purple surface for any sign of drugs. If I see one damn speck of narcotics, I’ll arrest him on the spot.
Then it hits me what I’m looking at.
I stumble back like I’ve been punched, clumsily thudding into a table behind me.
I drop the thing like it’s suddenly on fire.
Aleksander doubles over, laughing like a deranged hyena, banging his fist lightly against his head.
I’m not goddamned amused.
Frankly, I’m not sure how I’ll ever live down shaking out a pair of panties in a busy bar. Especially if they really belong to Ros Sanderson.
“Are you out of your damn mind?” I barely resist the urge to yank him out of that booth and fling him around until he stops fuckinglaughing.
I get my way a second later when his fit stops and the broken smile fades, leaving a watery-eyed glare fixed on me.
“Hardly, Captain Faircross. There’s another word you’re looking for.Obsessed.Truly, completely, inseparably. Don’t tell me that’s a crime?”
He kisses Ros’ forehead and clutches her head. Even with all the commotion and at least a dozen people staring at us now, she’s still grogged out.
Fuck me.
I back away slowly.
A second later, I’m almost tearing the door off its hinges. I’ve never been more grateful for a face full of cold air.
I need to get out of here before I do something monumentally stupid.
Unfortunately, Aleksander Arrendell hasn’t committed a crime by being a depraved, psychotic, creepy fuck.
But Iwillif I spend another second in his presence.
When I get to my vehicle, wishing I could give my brain a bleach bath, there’s a text from Ophelia apologizing. She’s running late to get Nell from school.
Don’t worry about it. On my way now,I send back.
Then I settle in, gripping the wheel until my knuckles turn white, trying to breathe.
How do I do this?
