Stop, stop, stop!” Martin snatched my hand away and exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath the whole time. Just when it was getting fun.

“I’m sure we’re getting close anyway.” I blindly felt around in the back seat for my purse. “Rain check?”

Martin rearranged his problem, zipped back up, and stared straight ahead. “I’m circling until Cruz verifies that the coast is clear.” The redness in his face and sound of his heavy breathing was probably the real reason we had to circle.

Finding what I was after in the back, I settled smugly into my seat and flipped down the sun visor. As I reapplied my lipstick and went back over my foundation with a thin, new, fresh layer, I chuckled at how hard I’d worked just on a quick hand job.

“What?” Martin asked, still not turning his head toward me.

“Nothing,” I replied with a chirp in my voice.

He cleared his throat and turned into a back alley. Fire ignited deep in my core, anticipating the ecstasy. I turned toward him and tugged at his shirt, dying to see the hairy chest I’d only had the luxury of imagining for the past few weeks.

His eye caught mine, only briefly, and my heart sank. “What?” I asked, letting go of his shirt.

“The SUV. It’s back.” He placed a finger to his lip to shush me and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He was actually texting. That’s how I knew it was serious and why I didn’t bite his finger off for shushing me.

“What are you doing?” I whispered around his finger.

“I got a partial plate. I’m gonna have Cruz run it.” He finished his text and sat the phone down in the cup holder.

I looked around but didn’t see whatever it was that he saw. There were no cars anywhere on the road. “Aren’t we close to the hotel?”

“Yes, that’s what worries me. It’s like they knew we were coming here.” His screen flashed, and he typed something quickly in response. I searched again but still saw nothing. Maybe this was just a ploy to find a quiet place to park. A girl could hope.

“You’re pretty good with that for an old dude,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“You didn’t seem to think I was an ‘old dude’ a few minutes ago.” He flashed me a grin, a twinkle in those gorgeous, green eyes.

“No, you certainly felt… virile.” I reached my hand back across the console. “Since we have time to kill,” I suggested, raising an eye brow and licking my newly red lips.

Martin intercepted my hand and held it, firmly but also with a hint of intimacy, intertwining his fingers into mine. “I have to stay alert.” His eyes darted from side to side, watching the road on either side of us.

“Alert is exactly what you were.” I leaned forward, my lips parted. I tried to wrestle my hand away, but he was too strong. The knowledge of his physical dominance over me made the thought of conquering him even more appealing.

“I need my mind to be alert. And to do that, it needs blood.”

We both laughed as his phone lit up again. He raised his brows to ask if he could trust me enough to let go. I nodded. After reading the message, he set the phone back down, not responding. He turned straight forward, put his hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, and sighed.

I lifted a hand, this time to his arm, “What is it?”

“Not sure yet. I think this thing goes higher than the Amara family. Much higher.” The weight of worry slunk his normally broad, high shoulders.

We sat silently for a moment; I was afraid to lose the moment and have him realize my hand was still on him. But I had an idea. “We could ditch the car.”

“I’m not ditching Rhonda!” His head snapped toward me.

“Listen,” I patted his arm, “we’re close. Let’s just walk. I know the Bellmonte has security. They can help back you up.”

Martin bit his lip. “They probably will have more security to prepare for the party crowd.”

“Right. And we’d be in one room. Less doors to watch.” I fished my heels out of the floorboard.

“Wait!” He grabbed my arm. “I didn’t say yes.”

I look at the time on his dashboard, almost ten. “The party’s already started. I want to say ‘good-bye’ to my friends. Most of them, I’ll never see again after tonight.” I put my hand on the door. “I’m going. Either follow or don’t.” With that, I climbed out of the truck and started up the alley, as briskly and determined as my heels would allow.

“Dammit!” he whispered as loudly as he could from the truck. I heard the door slam but didn’t turn my head. I felt him gaining on me, his long legs carrying him faster than I could get away.

Not looking where I was going, more worried about not turning to look at him, I stumbled over a manhole cover, twisting my ankle. I gasped in pain and bent down. Less than a second later, he was on me. “You hurt?” Martin felt all over me as if searching for a bullet wound. He threw his body on top of me.

Pushing him off, I stood tall. “These damn shoes.”

“Jesus!” he panted. “I thought—” He threw his arms up and walked off.

“Wait up.” I tried to hobble a few paces behind him, nursing the sore ankle. “How are you gonna protect me from up there?”

He stopped. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He put his arm around me, back in bodyguard mode; the intimacy we’d shared just moments earlier was gone. Its absence felt like a punch to the gut. I’d never allowed a man to have this much control over me before. I cursed my weakness as we walked in silence toward the Bellmonte.