Beneath These Lies (Beneath, #5)(18)

“Yes.”

“And pretend nothing is wrong?”

“Yes.”

He was implacable. That was the only word for it.

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“What about updates? Are you going to make me wait and wonder?”

“In person only. Anything else isn’t a good idea.”

Both my eyebrows shot up. “Paranoid much?”

“I call it smart.”

“How long? At least tell me that. How long is it going to take?”

Rix’s jaw tensed before he answered. “As long as it takes. I’m working it from more than one angle. She’ll be fine. I give you my word.”

The last words he spoke were so low and solemn that I knew he was deadly serious. Rix had just given his vow to return Trinity safely. In this situation, the only thing I could do was hope that his threats were scarier than the other guys. I didn’t know how to navigate this world, but something told me that having Rix on my side was like having a ringer on your team.

“Fine.”

He watched me, as if gauging the sincerity of my answer.

I squeezed my hands together to avoid fidgeting. For a moment, I wondered what it would take for Rix to lose a measure of that intensity, and laugh and smile easily.

None of my business, I reminded myself, but at the same time, his words from last night echoed through my brain. “I don’t want anyone to know that I’m f*cking fascinated with you either.”

I needed to stop myself before I tumbled down the same rabbit hole. This man was dangerous. And yet, strangely, I trust him.

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting Trinity back.

Rix, obviously not waging the same mental war I was, stepped back. “Take care, duchess. I’ll be around.” He strode toward the door without pausing to even look back.

“That’s it?”

Rix stopped, steps from the door, and turned. “You want more from me?”

It was a loaded question. I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Words, Valentina. You need words here. Say something. Anything.

“I, uh . . . I just . . .”

Oh hell, he’s moving again. Toward me.

Rix stopped only inches away this time. “You think you can handle more, duchess?”

Handle more what? That was the question. More of him? God help me, but the idea was so much more tempting than it should have been.

He lifted his hand, moving it slowly toward my face, as if waiting for me to bolt. But I didn’t bolt. I didn’t want to bolt.

Because even though the air had shifted in the room from all business to something decidedly not businesslike, I still felt safe. And that meant everything.

When his thumb finally smoothed across my cheekbone and his palm cupped the side of my face, he spoke. “I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t want more. A f*ck of a lot more. But you aren’t ready yet. I know it, and you know it. But that don’t mean I don’t want it. I’ll be back, duchess. We settle this business, and then we’ll figure out the rest.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

A hint of a smile played around the corners of his mouth, but Rix didn’t let it free. He dropped his hand, but only for as long as it took to pull me close and bury it in my hair. There was no hesitation, no asking for permission, before his lips took mine.

I gasped against his mouth and Rix shifted, his tongue sliding between my lips as he deepened the kiss. With his free hand, he palmed my ass and rocked his erection into me.

Heat flashed through me, violent and needy. My hands bunched in his shirt as my gasp turned to a quiet moan. My panties were soaked when he finally pulled away.

His silver eyes flashed with untamed desire, and he said only one word before heading for the door, unlocking it, and letting himself out.

“More.”





TRYING TO GO ABOUT MY life and pretend like nothing was wrong was nearly impossible. Actually, skip the nearly, it was impossible. Still, I attempted it.

After I flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED again at the end of the day—and purposely avoided thinking about Rix doing the same thing earlier—I contemplated my choices. Go home and wander my empty house, worrying about Trinity, or go find a distraction.

A distraction in the form of good food won out.

I made it a point to go out to dinner alone often. Some might think it odd, but I was a single woman who loved all the amazing food New Orleans had to offer, and not just out of a take-out container. Tonight, I settled on oysters.

Slipping into Royal House, my favorite oyster bar in the city, which happened to be conveniently located near my gallery, I asked the ma?tre d’ for a table for one. There was no shame in it. I didn’t care that most everyone else was paired off or in large groups. Okay, so I did have a tiny twinge of longing to be one half of a couple occasionally—especially, like tonight, when I needed a distraction.

As a hostess led me through the restaurant, I saw a familiar face at the next table over. Detective Hennessy.

I lowered myself into my chair and nodded at him.

“Ms. Noble,” he said. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Detective.” His presence didn’t surprise me. He worked out of the precinct in the Quarter, and I’d seen him more than once on the street.