energy zinging through his muscles is palpable. “Tell me about these things you care about so much you’re willing to risk everything for.”
I shrug, and in the process, try to push him back. “The Everglades.”
He allows me no room and repeats through gritted enamel. “The Everglades.”
“Yes. Catch up, Cole. I’m tired.”
“Why do you give two fucks about the Everglades?”
“I’m empathetic to nature. The Everglades are an important part of our ecosystem. I’d like to purchase a chair, maybe donate a bit more once I get there. It will be something to do while I’m in the States. And I’ve never seen the Kennedy Center—Camelot … all that jazz.”
“The Kennedy Center is a building and has nothing to do with Camelot.”
“Well, thank you for ruining it for me.”
He knows I’m blowing smoke up his arse. “Who’s gonna be there?”
“I assume other Everglade-loving humans, such as myself.”
“Quit fucking with me, Bella.”
“Seats are one thousand of your precious American dollars. I’m sure I’d like to give more at the event and we both know I can’t simply write a check with my name on it.”
“When is this shindig?” he growls.
“The week after next. I’m sure I’ll be ready for a night out by then. I’ll arrange for a car. I don’t want to be caught without a driver’s license.”
“Yeah, it would be bad if you were stopped without a DL since you’re wanted all over eastern Europe and North America. An Uber is the way to go.”
“You know me. I’m nothing if not thorough.”
“Dammit. Tell me what’s going on.” His tone is as tense as his arm wrapped around me.
“The event is sold out but I know if anyone can score a ticket, you can. I’ll only need one, please.”
His forearm angles up—above my stitches, between my breasts—and I have to work to keep my breaths even. His lips brush my ear when he whispers, “I’ll look into it. But I have one condition.”
I tell him something he damn well knows. “I don’t like conditions.”
“I know. And you know I don’t give a shit.”
I close my eyes. “Go ahead.”
“Tell me what happened today with Red.”
I open my eyes and look across his shadowed room. “I told you. He made me another hotdog. It was no pork pie but it was thoughtful.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it. Something happened. Abbott mentioned it and I want to know what the hell my father did.”
Shaking my head, I tell him the truth. “Nothing happened that I didn’t expect from you forcing me into your home. Red loves you, as he should.”
Still supporting my weight, he leans on a forearm and turns my face to his. “Red doesn’t understand. I want to know what he said.”
I shake my head. “I’ve seen you extract information from scarier subjects than your father, ask him. If you expect me to cooperate because I’m sleeping up against you, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“He told you to leave, didn’t he?”
“Red didn’t say anything I don’t agree with. Only now that I have a gala I’d like to attend for my favorite charity, I’m afraid he’s going to have to deal with me for a bit longer.”
“Bella—”
“The ticket, Cole.” I rip my chin from his grasp and settle back into my pillow. And because it does take the pressure off the niggling pain in my gut, I freely give him my weight.
He settles behind me as his frustrated sigh brushes my hair. “Sweetness, you haven’t changed. You’re as frustrating as ever which makes me hard as a rock. The only thing I know for certain right now is I’m fucked in the head for agreeing to any of this.”
“If you’d prefer I call Crew, I’m sure—”
“You know I’ll do it.”
I hug the pillow that smells of his body wash. “I’ve already wired the money to your account.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, either,” he mutters and presses his groin into my ass, proving my determination does, in fact, turn him on.
You’d think, after all this time, it wouldn’t please me so.
Yet, it does.
Chapter 10
Complicated
Cole
I swing the door to my office open with my phone to my ear as I listen to Hollingsworth push back on the favor I need. “I have a lot of contacts around the District, but politicians? I don’t touch them with a ten-foot pole.”
“I can’t be the one nosing around about this guy. I can pull a lot of files but not on a senator. That’ll throw up red flags and get me called into my supervisor’s supervisor’s office. A