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He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. “So, Lily, my love, what line of business are you in that requires so many blades?”
“Marketing,” I say.
Levi smirks. He knows I’m lying, and he doesn’t care. I like that about him. I can be whoever the fuck I want around this guy.
“And what about you? What’s an art historian doing in a dusty old hotel in the middle of the mountains? This place isn’t exactly bursting at the seams with Picassos.”
“My work takes me to some interesting places. I’m here to make a deal on behalf of my most important client.” He sweeps his arm around, indicating the spa and gym and the grand old hotel. “It’s an arduous job, as you can see.”
“Oh, yes. Such appalling conditions. You should picket immediately.” I snake my hand behind my back and drop a crystal into the pool filter, where it lands with aplink.“Unionize with all the other hot British art historians of the world. Demand better conditions.”
“You can help me with the social media.” Levi swims closer until he’s directly in front of me.
I’m aware of his breath, hot against my skin. “Only if you—”
My very disjointed thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice calling my name.
“Lily?”
I jerk away from Levi and look toward the gym.
Jackson swerves through the room, and the sight of him closes my throat.
“Lily? I know you’re here. Freddie said he saw you here.” Jackson barrels into the pool area, his green eyes searching.
I sink down into the water, hoping against hope that he won’t see me.
“Daisy, you can’t run away from us all weekend.”
“Friend of yours?” Levi asks, one of his trimmed eyebrows arching again.
He even manages to make that look elegant. I probably resemble a drowned rat when compared to his sophisticated perfection.
“Not even remotely.” I glance around. “He’s a…business associate.”
“From marketing?” Levi’s eyebrow raises again.
“Obviously.”
Admittedly, Jackson, with his leather jacket and dark jeans and ruffled hair, looks absolutely nothing like a guy in marketing.
“He’s on my turf,” I try to explain. “And us marketing people don’t play nice.”
I nod my head seriously as if I’m not spewing complete bullshit.
“I can tell.” Levi’s gaze falls on my knife, which I palm out of instinct.
“Is there a back way out of here?”
“I know a place. I know all sorts of secrets about this hotel.” Levi’s fingers slip into mine.
We climb out of the pool. I shiver as my wet underwear clings to my body. We’re toward the back of the area, so Jackson hasn’t gotten to us yet. As we pass the bench, I pick up my purse and sling it over my shoulder. I leave my clothes and knives behind.
“Daisy? Where are you? I just want to talk.”
Well, I have no interest in talking to you.
Levi pulls me around a stone pillar and pushes on a rock. It swings inward, revealing a narrow, hidden space, packed with life jackets and other pool equipment. It’s perfectly disguised in the slate. He tugs me inside and shoves the door shut behind us.
