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Explore with his lips and tongue and…
“My scar doesn’t pertain to this case.” With a slight twist, she angled her body so she had an eye on him and the exit.
“There is no case, Rosalie.”
“Then why are you still talking to me instead of shoving me away like you did earlier?”
A heavy knock sounded at the door. He grabbed her hand as she unzipped her bag. “No need to get out your gun. Criminals don’t knock.”
“Come in,” he yelled.
Wulf trudged over the threshold, a vase of roses in his arms.
EIGHT
Roses.
Rosalie’s heart thrummed against her breast as Malgor’s calling card, at least two dozen of them, swirled before her in a hazy red blur of petals and thorns. Malgor hadn’t sent her a real flower since her father’s funeral. His message that day had simply read, “Game On.”
Her heart beat faster as she sucked in air tainted by the overpowering scent. “Where’s the card?”
Wulf reached into the blooms.
She slipped a hand into her backpack, ready to grab her gun and shoot the petals if a rose so much as blossomed the wrong way.
Wulf mumbled something in German and rummaged through the long stems. “There’s a dead flower in here I can’t get out without pulling out the rest.”
She covered her mouth with her palm. The single rose Malgor had sent to her father’s funeral had been dead. Every muscle tensed as Wulf pulled a knife out of his pocket and unsheathed it. Her breath caught as the silvery mother-of-pearl handle caught the light.
Cannon gripped her elbow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
She tracked Wulf’s every move until he sheathed his knife and stuffed it into his pocket. Turning from the bouquet, he held out a small white envelope in one hand and a single dead rose in the other.
She shrugged off Cannon’s grip and stared at the blackened ends of the drooping flower. A few of the dried petals fell onto the carpet.
Willing her hands to stop shaking, she took the envelope with her name typed on it and carefully opened it.
Please be from my mother. Or Bella. Or even my ex.
His daddy was a big deal in this area. Perhaps he’d learned about her accident and had told his son. She pulled the card out. Malgor’s typical rose, along with two words, pulsed in her vision.
New game.
She bit back a gasp as she jammed the note in her pocket. Was Malgor watching to see her reaction? Her gaze ping-ponged from the exit to the window behind her, where the Mountainview Inn lights twinkled. Had he been watching her while she’d celebrated with her family?
She bolted for the door to the lobby.
Cannon caught her arm. “Where are you going?”
“I need to make a call. Alone.”
He tugged her closer. “Whoever sent those flowers scared you.” His voice dipped to a menacing level. “Don’t deny it.”
The delivery left her too frightened to even try. “I need to call my family.”
A knock sounded at the door. Schlitz poked his head in and smiled. “Rosalie?—”
