13 SAM
“This isn’t exactly what I was expecting,” I commented, seeing that the second floor looked nothing like the eccentric things I’d imagined.
It was actually just an open hall with a bar in the back. A few couples were drinking there. Off to the side, some employees stood watching the activity—which seemed like a scaled-down version of the floor below.
“Were you expecting naked people doing drugs?” Connor asked suddenly.
“I don’t know… maybe…”
“I think we’ve only reached level two.” Connor watched Mohani, Asaf, and Valentine approaching—something I only noticed when it was too late to run.
“Or maybe we’ve skipped straight to the final boss,” I replied, turning to face the three stooges.
“Sammy.” Mohani approached, touching my face. Like a territorial animal marking its territory. “For a second, I thought I was seeing a mirage.”
“I wish you were,” I replied, pulling away from his touch.
“Still got a smart answer for everything.” Mohani laughed, just to mask the sting of rejection.
“Tell me about it,” Connor agreed, drawing Mohani’s attention to him.
“And who are you?”
“Just a tourist.” Connor puffed out his chest slightly in an instinctive display of dominance.
“Didn’t know you were in that line of work now,” Mohani said, knowing full well I’d understand what he was implying. “Though you always had a knack for it.”
Valentine smiled, as did Asaf.
“I’m not… but for certain guests, I make an excellent hostess.” I slipped my arm through Connor’s, and something like static electricity sparked between us, forcing us to look at each other.
“I’m completely comfortable,” Connor responded to a question I hadn’t asked, pulling his arm a little closer to mine.
The vein in Mohani’s forehead looked ready to burst. And there was so much testosterone in the air that my nose itched.
“Well…” He adjusted his shirt cuff, flashing his absurdly expensive watch. “Make yourselves at home… but don’t forget you’re not.”
Mohani held Connor’s stare for several long seconds before heading toward a door behind the employees in the corner of the room.
“He’s really pissed,” I smiled, keeping my arm linked with his until it felt safe. Though safety wasn’t exactly the problem right now.
“I don’t know if that gives us any advantage.” Connor was the one who pulled away first, walking to the bar. I followed.
He ordered a whisky from the bartender and downed it in one gulp. He was getting impatient.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to drink,” I said, but he didn’t respond.
“Change of plans.”
“Do you think someone’s watching us?”
Connor took a deep breath and looked at me. His gaze traveled slowly from my eyes to my mouth. Or at least, that’s where I felt the heat hit me.
“I think he’s watching… definitely.”
The shrill sound of breaking glass cut through the charged air between us, and we both turned toward the couple who had clearly had too much to drink.
One of the employees helped them up and led them to another room—the entrance in the same direction Mohani had gone.
“I need to get in there.”
“I don’t know if I can fake being drunk,” Connor said.
“We won’t need to.” I looked at him. “We just need to irritate Mohani a little more, and maybe he’ll come get me himself.”
“I hope you’re not thinking of going in alone…”
“If I have to…” I straightened my spine. “You’re not my father.”
“Forget it, Samantha.” He shook the empty glass in his hand, then set it down harder than necessary on the counter. “You know what? Let’s go.”
“What?”
“It’s over. We’re leaving.” He turned, ready to walk out.
“You can go.” I sat down and ordered a whisky for myself. I wasn’t about to leave after we’d come this far.
Connor turned back and sat down next to me again.
“You’re not going in there alone,” he said irritably, grabbing my glass, downing it, and sliding it back to me empty. “And you’re not drinking either.”
“You’re impossible,” he grumbled.
“And you’re a whiner, Detective Silver Fox.”
“I’m trying to keep us alive.”
“And I’m trying to keep us in the game.”
I touched his forearm where it rested on the counter when I noticed our little argument was being watched.
Connor noticed too, because he suddenly hooked my stool with his leg and pulled me closer.
“If you really want to get under the guy’s skin...” he said quietly. “We’re going to need a lot more than holding hands.”
At that distance, his breath brushed against my face, bringing a slight flush to my cheeks.
“Are you really willing to take this further?” he asked, brushing the back of his hand along my cheek. “Because I don’t know how to fake being drunk...”
I held my breath as his fingers grazed my jaw near my ear.
“But I’m an excellent companion.” His fingers slid to my neck as he leaned in slowly, sending my heart racing a mile a minute. “You’re really going to let me kiss you, aren’t you?”
He pulled his hand away and I could breathe again. I would let him. For the sake of the mission... of course.
“You’re crazier than I thought.”
Connor didn’t pull us completely apart, leaving our legs almost intertwined on the stool. But his body was far enough away that I could think straight again.
Even if it wouldn’t mean anything beyond a kiss, it would be a huge mistake, given that we temporarily live in the same house, sleep in the same bed, and oh yeah—there’s a killer out there murdering people he knows.
What happened a few nights ago had been a mistake, and I was grateful he had no memory of it.
“I would never kiss... voluntarily,” I said, as if finishing my thought out loud. Connor looked at me with a wry smile.
“You seemed pretty willing a few seconds ago.” His posture made me want to growl and bite his shin.
“So were you. And yet you didn’t do it.”
“I was just testing that recklessness of yours that you disguise as courage.”
“Of course you were. That’s why you haven’t been able to take your eyes off my mouth all night.” I pushed my chair back, putting some distance between us.
“You’re delusional. Must be hunger.” He pulled the stool back. “You’re not my type.”
“And you think you’re mine, you...” The most absurd and offensive insults flashed through my mind. “You old man. You’re a crazy old man, that’s what you are!”
I stood up and stomped off looking for the bathroom. A passing waiter pointed me toward it, and I headed that way.
I stared at myself in the mirror—my cheeks were slightly pink from how irritated I was.
“How can someone be so unbearable?” I grumbled, wetting my hands and pressing them against the back of my neck, which was burning up. “He thinks he’s perfect and untouchable.”
I took a deep breath, feeling the coolness from my hand spread across the back of my neck and down to the side where he had touched me minutes before.
“I hate this city’s heat sometimes.” A redheaded woman came out of the bathroom stall and caught my eye in the mirror.
“I have to agree,” I replied, composing myself. “Years here and I still haven’t completely gotten used to it.”
“That makes me feel better, then.” She smiled, stopping beside me and pulling a lipstick from her purse, dropping the cap on the floor.
“I’ll get it.” I bent down and grabbed the golden cap before it could roll under the sink. “It’s a beautiful lipstick.”
“Want it? I think it would look beautiful on you.”
“I’m not sure it’s really my color,” I said with a polite smile.
“Nonsense. It’ll bring out the fire in your eyes.” She handed it to me and I applied it while checking in the mirror.
“You look magnificent. Your boyfriend’s going to love it.” She tucked the lipstick back in her purse. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy. It’s just that I saw you two out there.”
“It’s fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “We’re just getting to know each other.”
“You make a beautiful couple.” She smiled at me before heading toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to try to pry my husband away from the bar.”
She left and I stayed there, staring at the mirror. She was right. It fit me like a glove.
I felt a little less irritated and ready to get back to our mission.
I walked back toward the lounge and froze when I saw Valentine sitting in my seat. I wasn’t just worried we’d been discovered—I was also worried Valentine would say too much.