“Yes. Tonight.”
He leans in to kiss me, and I say, “Wait. I have on that lipstick that—”
His mouth comes down on mine, his tongue stroking deeply, and I forget the lipstick, and that Lana woman, and Kevin, and everything else. I lean into him, kissing him back, this man who has become so much to me in such a short time. Every lick of his tongue is a promise of more, and I’m not sure it will ever be enough. Too soon it seems, our lips part, reality returning with his murmur of, “Tonight.”
“Yes,” I say. “Tonight.”
He releases me then, reaching for the door and opening it, and I laugh at the sight of my pink lipstick on his mouth. “Pink really is your color,” I say, before darting away, his low, sexy laughter following me to the edge of Jessica’s desk.
Jessica grins at my smile and winks as I pass, but it’s a short-lived, wonderful moment that ends as Derek steps to his doorway, his stare heavy as it falls on me. I have no choice but to move forward to the hallway that leads to the lobby, leaving me no escape from his attention, until suddenly his gaze lifts above my head. I cut left and pause, turning back to peek around the corner to find Shane and Derek staring each other down, hate etching the air and stealing my breath. They are enemies and it delivers a blade of reality I have yet to face. Blood doesn’t mean loyalty, and that’s what I’ve been counting on to save me.
SHANE
It’s nearly eight when I finish an off-site meeting about a trademark dispute and send a car to pick up Emily at her apartment. I arrive at the apartment before her, removing my jacket and tie before filling a glass with whiskey and stepping onto the balcony and finding the railing. I stare out at the city, the past twenty-four hours and all the revelations made, heavy on my mind, with no movement on resolution. But nothing weighs as heavily on me as last night with Emily. Regret doesn’t begin to describe what I’d felt when I’d seen the pain in Emily’s eyes over what she thought was my betrayal. Nor does fear begin to describe what I feel when I think of her becoming a target for Derek or the Martina cartel either.
The door opens and I turn in anticipation of her presence, and when she steps into the open doorway, her long hair silky over her shoulders, that unnamed emotion she always makes me feel forms a name.
Love.
I’m falling in love with her and while that’s damn good for me, I’m still not convinced it’s good for her.
I motion her forward and meet her in the middle of the patio, directly under a light, I set my drink on the table next to us, my hands settling on her waist. “Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” she says, that sweet shyness she seduces me with clear and present.
“I have something for you.” I look up, and her chin lifts, laughter bubbling from her lips as she spies the bra hanging there.
“Oh my God, Shane. Why is it still there and how did it get up there?”
“I have no clue how we managed that. Maybe I have a ghost.”
“A ghost,” she laughs. “Who puts bras on lights.”
“Maybe it has a sense of humor,” I offer.
“Why didn’t you take it down?”
“It’s my prize,” I say, my voice roughening with the rise of my desire. “Like you.”
“Shane,” she whispers, the air thickening around us.
I lean in to kiss her and the doorbell rings. “That can only be Seth. He’s the only person with the code.” I lean back and stroke her hair. “Sorry, sweetheart, but with some of the things going on, I have to let him in.”
“Of course,” she says. “I’ll be out here.”
I give her a nod and I head inside, crossing to the door and opening it, bringing Seth into view, the hard lines of his face telling me something is wrong. “Are you alone?” he asks.
“Emily’s on the patio.”
He lifts the folder in his hand and then sets it on the counter. “All the more reason you need to see this.”
A bad feeling rolls through me and I step back, allowing him to enter, and we convene in the kitchen at the island. He sets the folder in front of me. I flip it open and stare down at a photo of Emily. “What is this?”
“I had her checked out and yes, her identity checks out, but it’s a shell created by a hacker. The kind of shell that’s created when someone is hiding who they really are. Witness protection, criminal, or undercover agents.” He tosses an envelope on the counter. “I found that in her desk. It’s a compilation of information ranging from bank accounts to investors.”
“Holy fuck. You think she’s setting us up.”
“I don’t have a clue, but you better find out and now. And because I’m thorough, I checked her fingerprints, too. There not on file.”