Carmine

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While I’m on the phone with Adriano, I hear a noise, and when I look toward the glass door, I could swear I catch sight of a shadow that moves away.

After waiting a beat, I say, “I’ll call you later,” and hang up.

Shifting to the door, I glide it closed and walk backward into the obscurity of my room while evaluating the pool and the outer boundary of the garden. Sure enough, after a few moments, I see a woman tearing across the lawn, so I sneak out of the room and race toward her as quietly as possible. As I gain on her, I recognize Eva’s long hair flowing behind her, and again, I notice how fast she is. Shooting forward, I loop my arms around her waist, picking her up and causing us to topple onto the grass.

Effortlessly, I rotate us around, pressing her front into the ground while we’re both breathing heavily, and hiss, “You heard my conversation. Now I have to kill you.”

“What?!” she whisper-shouts, and I grimace, surveying the area to check if we’ve been caught, but no one else has set foot in the garden.

The spitfire keeps struggling against me in distracting ways, her ass pushing against my groin as her surprisingly soft hair muffles my mouth with that scent of sweet coconut.

Christ!

The heat of her body is engagingly warm while the freezing cold drifts into my now-stained slacks.

Completely wound up, I demand, “Why were you eavesdropping on me, little thief?”

“I wasn’t,” she replies, adding in a trembling tone, “How the hell did you just appear out of nowhere? You’re ninja-quiet; it’s creepy.”

Ignoring her question since we could get caught at any second, I rise and reach for my gun from the back of my waistband, aiming it down at her.

Wide-eyed, she purses her lips as I make a jerking motion with my Smith & Wesson. “Get up.”

She obeys, surging upward with her palms facing me while I circle my gun, silently ordering her to retrace her steps back to my room as I walk close beside her. When we’re approaching the pool, the light in Roman’s bedroom switches on not even ten feet in front of us, and we stop and look at each other for a fraction of a second before we simultaneously duck, lying on our stomachs.

So, the little thief has a secret from Roman. Why else would she try to sneak out and hide from him?

“Crawl to the side, to the tree,” I tell her, yet she’s already hurrying in that direction as I slither behind her, the frosty ground ruining the entire front of my tux.

As I reach the tree, Eva sits up with her back against the trunk, rubbing her hands together to dust the dirt off, mumbling. “So cold.”

I hunch down before her, annoyed at my filthy clothes because I prefer things neat and orderly. She’s like a little hurricane mowing over my carefully constructed world – something that I don’t need right now.

I point my gun toward myself. “You ruined my tux.”

Her movement stops and her scowl deepens as she quips, “You didn’t have to run after me. And why did you help me?”

“Because now you owe me.”

“And I guess you want your precious watch in return?”

“No,” I retort. “I’ll let you know when I want to collect the debt.”

Dangling my revolver from my hand while we’re out of sight, I assess her as she shoots daggers at me, not shying away from my penetrating gaze. I decide on another approach since she’s an easy liar and asking again why she was eavesdropping won’t get me any answers.

“Where were you running off to, Eva?” I ask calmly, yet she sticks her chin in the air in defiance.

“Nowhere.” She feigns ignorance, most likely expecting me to keep rephrasing my questions, but that’s not my method.

I refuse to argue or debate; I’ve been trained to steer any conversation in the direction I want, so I cock my head, grinning at her, and a crease forms in her forehead as her haughty expression wanes.

Standing up, I look down my nose at her. “So how about we just walk back together? I’m sure Roman won’t mind since you were going nowhere,” I say with an icy bite.

Her gaze darts away, confirming my suspicion that she’s lying, and my voice lowers to something resembling a growl. “I didn’t think so.” For the last time, I ask, “Tell me where you were going.”

Releasing a frustrated breath, she glances away and bites her lip.

Smirking, I taunt, “You can either tell me or Roman...”

With that, she tilts her head back and meets my eyes. “These are not the best options.”

“They’re your only options,” I remind her.

Climbing to her feet, she mutters, “Since you insist. I don’t like sleeping in this house, so I sneak out.”

“But doesn’t Roman notice?”

“I don’t sleep in his bedroom, so no.”

Of course, she’s still withholding something, but my instinct tells me that this part of her story might be true; therefore, I decide to change the subject. “How are you such a fast runner?”

She sighs in agitation.

So I add, “Do we need go over your options again?”

For a second, she’s lost in thought and then she replies proudly, gesturing at my pistol, “No, Carmine, we don’t. See, I have leverage too. You stole a gun.”

“It’s my gun,” I state, unfazed.

“Doesn’t matter. No one here has a weapon, except the guards. If you say anything to Roman, I’ll tell him you took it from the foyer and are walking around with it.”

Unfortunately for me, Eva is clever enough to know when to play her hand. But to hide my surprise, I show my teeth and brazenly take aim at her. Her hands fly up in surrender as I close the distance between us and push her against the tree with my body, my revolver poking into her side while I grip her hip with my other hand.

Dipping my head so that we’re nose-to-nose, I bluff, “Too bad you showed your cards too soon, little thief, because I don’t give a damn if Roman knows that I have my gun.”

However, she doesn’t give in, although I feel her limbs quivering against mine while she tries to conceal her fear. “Are you sure about that?”

“Quite,” I reply.

But before I can say more, she asks, “How about your liaison with Gwen? Do you also not give a damn if Roman knows about that?”

Stunned, since I had no idea she’d been eavesdropping on me and Gwen as well, I snap at her without thinking, “What the hell did you hear?”

She rears back from the sharpness in my tone yet recovers and grinds out, “Everything.”

The challenge in her voice throws me momentarily because why the hell are we talking about me? I give my head a quick shake to clear it and promptly regain control over this situation, shifting the focus back to her. “I asked you why you were such a fast runner? Do you have some sort of special training? Are you a narc?”

Her eyes widen as our breaths mingle since we’re so close together. “What?! No! I’m just a girl who’s an escort. I was on the track team in high school. Calm your pants!”

“What?” I frown at her words, not comprehending what she means until understanding dawns that she’s misusing the expression.

Baffled, she stares at me as if I’m crazy. “Huh?”

I pipe in, “What does calm your pants mean?”

She looks up and when she bumps her nose against mine, I pull back to place some distance between us. “What?”

Amused, and apparently not able to hide it, I say, “I think you mean calm your tits?”

Her frown deepens as I take another step back.

“Why do we always end up talking about my tits? Besides, are you actually explaining this to me now?” Then she adds in a disbelieving tone, “And laughing at me while planning to kill me? Oh, my god, you’re so—”

Her rant is exasperating and becomes louder, bringing me back to the harsh reality of the moment, which is that we could get caught at any second, so I grind out, “Jesus Christ, we’re going off topic again. Can you lower your voice and concentrate for one goddamn second!”

“Um, you started the topic and scared the shit out of me with your death threat—”

“Or better yet, just shut up,” I command, pushing her against the tree once more and stifling her cry with my palm when I hear the door on the patio sliding open.

At first, she struggles against me, but I whisper, “Someone’s coming.”

She goes still instantly, and I lower my hand while we’re frozen in place as footsteps cross the patio and head toward the pool. Meanwhile, she’s looking straight at me, her grey irises filled with specks of silver. I can clearly make out the shape of her breasts since there’s not a millimeter separating us, and at the worst possible time, my body reacts, my blood rushing south because her contours would evoke feelings of lust in any red-blooded man.

When the footsteps come closer, she moves with me noiselessly as I inch to the side to keep us out of sight. And when they stop right before reaching the tree, she clutches my waist, her nails digging into my skin the only sign that she’s terrified of getting caught.

Ever so slowly, I bring my finger to my lips, signaling her not to even breathe, and we stand there in complete silence, her seductive breasts pressing into me while strands of her black hair cloak us as the wind rustles around us. After five seconds, the footsteps retreat, and when I peer past the tree, I see a man returning inside the mansion.

Stashing my gun in my pants, I instruct, “Run back to my room. Now.”

To my astonishment, she complies, and I follow her as she makes a beeline around the pool. Though, instead of obeying me and stopping at my door, she sprints to hers, gliding it open with force, hastily yanking it shut, and turning the lock just as I reach it and try to jerk it open.

When I slam my palm against the glass, she flinches as it rattles, tiptoeing backward, farther away from my scowl as my chest heaves.

Out of nowhere, the patio light comes on, and as she shows me a sly grin, I have no other choice but to dive inside my own room, closing and locking the door.

Fuck! This woman’s inability to focus is rubbing off on me. I should’ve drilled her about my watch and Roman when I had the chance.

Incensed, I rub my hand over my mouth and only now notice a door next to the bathroom that connects my room to Eva’s. Striding to it, I turn the knob to find it locked, of course.

Determinedly, I knock once and warn her, “Eva, you’re just prolonging the inevitable.”

When she refuses to open up, I knock two more times, and she groans in exasperation. Then I believe I hear more voices in her room, so right before my knuckles touch the door once more, I pause and press my ear to the surface.