9. Where is Chris Roman? #2
“Debatable.”She laughed.Chris pulled away from the mansion.For the next several hours, neither of them mentioned the kiss.Not once.Chris was perfectly happy with that arrangement.Camila clearly wasn’t.He could tell.Every once in a while he’d catch her looking at him.At lunch.At the florist.While he opened her door.While he stood outside a boutique waiting for her.Every time he caught her, she’d smile.Every time she smiled, Chris knew the conversation was coming.It didn’t.Not yet.Instead, Camila started noticing other things.Little things.Things Chris wished she wouldn’t.At lunch, the hostess started toward a table near the center of the restaurant.Chris’s eyes swept the room.Front entrance.Kitchen door.Hallway.Side exit.Man alone at the bar.Couple near the window.Two businessmen.Woman with a child.Nothing immediately concerning.
“Not that one,” Chris said.The hostess stopped.Camila looked at him.
“Why?”Chris nodded toward a booth against the wall.
“That one.”They sat.Chris took the seat facing the room.Camila picked up her menu.Then lowered it. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Sit there.”Chris glanced around.“It’s a chair.”
“Facing the door.”
“Better view.”
“Of the entrance.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”Chris opened his menu.“Habit.”
“From?”
“Life.”Camila stared at him.“You’re incredibly irritating.”
“So I’ve been told.”The waiter approached.Chris’s eyes dropped automatically.Hands.
Tray.Pen.Nothing else.Camila noticed.Of course she did.The waiter took their orders and left.“You did it again.”Chris looked at her.“What now?”
“You looked at his hands.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“He had a pen.”
“Why his hands?”Chris drank some water.“Hands tell you what somebody’s about to do.”
Camila’s expression changed.“That sounds like something somebody teaches you.”
“Or something somebody learns.”
“Where?”Chris smiled.“You ask a lot of questions.”
“You give very few answers.”
“Works out.”
“For you.”
“Exactly.”She studied him.Too closely.Chris looked away.That was the problem.Camila was paying attention.By the end of the day, Chris had learned something else about Camila.
She didn’t sit still.Coffee.Florist.Boutique.Another boutique because apparently the first boutique had failed humanity.Bakery.Bookstore.A nonprofit where she spent nearly an hour talking with the director.Then another appointment.Chris followed.Watched.
Observed.Protected.And learned.She tipped generously.She knew service workers by name.She bought him coffee without asking what he wanted.Black.No sugar.Chris stared at the cup.“How’d you know?”
“You look like somebody who drinks miserable coffee.”
“That’s insulting.”
“Was I wrong?”He took a sip.“No.”
“Exactly.”And the entire time, neither mentioned last night.By nine thirty-eight that evening, they were finally heading home.For the first time since the kiss.Just the two of them.Inside an SUV.At night.Again.Chris should’ve known she wouldn’t make it all the way back to the mansion.She lasted twelve minutes.At 9:50, Camila reached toward the radio and turned the music down.Chris immediately knew he was screwed.
“Don’t.”Camila stared at him.“I haven’t said anything. ”
“You were about to.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’ve spent enough time with you to recognize the face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you’re deciding how much trouble you’re about to cause me.”Camila’s lips curved.“So you have been studying me.”
“Occupational hazard.”
“Sure.”Chris continued driving.City lights moved across the windshield.Camila folded one leg beneath herself and turned toward him.“So.”Chris sighed.There it was.“So what?”
“Are we going to talk about what happened?”Chris said nothing.“Or are you just going to ignore it?”His eyes closed.One second.That was all he allowed himself while driving.“Camila.”She smiled.“What?”
“You know exactly what.”
“I don’t.”
“You absolutely do.”
“Then explain it.”Chris looked over.She was watching him.Dark hair loose around her shoulders.Brown eyes filled with amusement.And that mouth—No.Chris returned his attention to the road.“Nothing happened.”Camila laughed.Actually laughed.Chris’s jaw tightened.“What’s funny?”
“Nothing happened?”
“Correct.”
“Chris.”
“What?”
“I was sitting on your lap.”His grip tightened on the steering wheel.“I remember.”
“You kissed me.”
“You kissed me first.”
“And then you kissed me back.”
“and you stuck something in me of yours.”Chris said nothing.
“Very enthusiastically.”He shot her a look.Camila smiled wider.“Don’t.”
“I’m just clarifying the historical record.”
“There is no historical record.”
“Oh, there absolutely is.”Chris shook his head.“This conversation is over.”
“It hasn’t even started.”
“Exactly how I prefer it.”Camila watched him.Then her voice changed.“You regret it.”
The teasing disappeared.Chris looked over.She wasn’t smiling anymore.That question mattered to her.He looked back at the road.“No.”Silence.“No?” she repeated.“No.”
“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen?
”Because I’m an FBI agent investigating your brother.Because your brother might kill me if he discovers I touched you.Because my supervisor looked like she wanted to strangle me this morning.Because you’re attracted to Chris Roman.And Chris Roman doesn’t fucking exist.Chris swallowed. “Because it shouldn’t have happened.”
“That isn’t the same as regretting it.”
“No.”
“Then which is it?”Chris breathed through his nose.“Camila.”
“Chris.”He glanced at her.She smiled slightly.“Stop saying my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“You know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“How am I saying it?”Chris shook his head.“This is ridiculous.”She leaned closer.
“Chris.”His eyes closed again.Briefly.“Jesus Christ.”Camila laughed.“There.”
“There what?”
“You do like it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”Chris looked at her.“You are incredibly confident for someone who threatened to make me walk home.”
“I could still make you walk home.”
“I’m driving.”
“Mateo’s car.”
“Technically I’m being paid to operate it.”She watched him.Then quietly:
“I liked kissing you.”Chris stopped breathing for approximately half a second.“I’ve been thinking about it,” she added.Fantastic.Exactly what he needed to hear.“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Tell me that.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“No. I know you keep telling me this is a bad idea.”
“It is.”
“You keep telling me it can’t happen.”
“It can’t.”
“It already happened.”He looked over.“That line sounds familiar.”
“I liked it the first time.”His mouth betrayed him.A smile.Tiny.Camila caught it.“There.”
Chris immediately stopped smiling.“What?”
“You’re smiling.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You were.”
“Prove it.”She laughed.For several seconds, neither spoke.Chris tried concentrating on the road.Then Camila reached across the console and touched his forearm.His entire body noticed.He looked at her hand.Then at her.“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s my line.”She left her hand there.Chris should have moved it.He didn’t.Her fingertip brushed the inside of his wrist.His pulse jumped.Camila felt it.Her eyes lifted.
Chris knew exactly what she’d discovered.“Don’t.”Her smile returned.“You’re nervous.”
“I’m driving.”
“You weren’t nervous when someone was chasing you at seventy miles an hour.”
“Different situation.”
“Why?”Chris gave her a look.She waited.His silence told her everything.Then her expression changed.Curiosity replacing teasing.“Actually…”Chris didn’t like that word.
“What?”
“How did you know someone was following you that night?”His gaze remained on the road.“I have mirrors.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Then say what you mean.”
“You notice everything.”Chris didn’t answer.“You knew that car behind us yesterday wasn’t right.”
“It wasn’t following us.”
“You changed routes three times.”
“Traffic.”
“You circled the block.”
“Missed the turn.”
“You never miss turns.”Chris looked at her.Mistake.She caught it.“You always know where the exits are.”Silence.“You always sit facing the door.”More silence.
“You look at people’s hands before their faces.”
Chris’s jaw flexed.“You noticed that man reaching into his jacket at the fundraiser before security did.”
“He wanted his phone.”
“I know. But you didn’t know that.”Chris stared through the windshield.Camila’s voice softened.“Where did you learn all of that?”
“Security.”
“That’s not enough.”
“Street racing.”
“That doesn’t teach you to watch people’s hands.”Chris said nothing.“And that chase…”She shifted toward him.“Where did you learn to drive like that?”Chris didn’t answer.
“Chris.”His hands tightened slightly around the wheel.
“Where?”Silence.He could give her the cover story.He’d rehearsed it.Illegal street racing.Private security.Dangerous clients.A violent past.It would be easy.Chris had lied to killers without blinking.But sitting beside Camila—he couldn’t make himself tell another lie.Not right now.So he said nothing.Her eyes searched his face. “See?”
“See what?”
“You do that.”
“Do what?”
“Disappear.”Chris frowned.“I’m sitting right here.”