been raised in Miami, but I was born in Moscow,” I told him. “I have some Russian blood in me as well.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the warmth between us disappeared like a puff of smoke, replaced with something frostier than the cold. My lungs grew tighter each silent second until I gestured to the hotel doors.
“Would you like to . . . come up?”
“No.”
Okay. Talk about being shot down.
“You were just skulking outside my hotel then? Waiting for unsuspecting women to run into you?”
A snort sounded from behind, and I turned to see Albert standing at the curb smoking another cigarette.
Ronan walked toward the car. “Come. We’re going to lunch.”
He wasn’t asking, but my infatuated heart pulled me in his direction without a single complaint.
He turned to look at me. “Don’t expect french fries though.”
“In that case . . .” I stopped with my hands in my coat pockets as if I’d suddenly changed my mind.
It earned me a soft laugh that warmed my stomach like a sip of hot chocolate, and I gave Albert a winning smile. “Good morning, Igor.”
He rolled his eyes, about to flick his cigarette to the pavement, but he stilled when I pointedly said, “Mars.”
After a defiant stare-down, he begrudgingly walked five feet to the hotel’s plastic cigarette receptacle and tossed it in. Ronan lifted a questioning brow at the strange altercation.
“It’s an inside joke,” I told him, like Albert and I shared something special.
Albert seemed to disagree. I heard him scoff as he walked around the car.
“We’ve talked about this,” I said with concern. “We all care about you here. There’s no need to be shy.”
The oversized man rubbed his face to hide the tiniest flicker of sardonic amusement before slipping into the driver’s seat. Ronan watched our exchange with a humorless look. He wasn’t amused, that much was clear.
He pulled the back door open for me without a word, and I swallowed when he sat close beside me. He smelled so good it intoxicated my senses, bringing back the memory of last night. I ran my clammy hands down my bare, numb thighs.
“I’m twenty, by the way, not nineteen.”
He looked amused by the admission, like I was a child announcing I was now eight while proudly displaying a hand and three fingers.
“Are you?”
I swallowed. “My birthday was a few days ago.”
“I’m thirty-two, kotyonok.”
Oh.
I assumed he was still in his twenties and realized I probably hadn’t eased his conscience in the slightest. What was twelve years anyway? A lot, apparently, taking into account my inexperience and his dirty, practiced words when he’d asked me if I was going to come on him.
Though how I acted last night certainly didn’t seem innocent.
It went silent. My heart couldn’t find its beat in the thick tension, so I distracted myself by taking in the sights. The clouds parted, and a ray of sunlight fanned across my face while I absently pulled the star pendant on my necklace back and forth. I glanced at Ronan to find him watching me. Deeply. Strangely. Like I was a sharp icicle hanging from the roof above his head, but the sparkle was distracting him.
I wondered what he would do if I touched him right now. If I ran my hand across his thigh to even higher. Would he finally put his hands on me? Warmth rose to the surface of my skin and slowed my breath. He must be able to see the soft heat in my eyes because his darkened. With lust or anger, I wasn’t sure.
“They must not teach self-preservation in Miami.”
I stilled. “Are you warning me away from you?”
He showed me a flash of teeth, then looked away and pulled a piece of lint from his suit pants. “Yes. If I were you, I’d get out and run now.”
I stared at him.
His gaze returned to mine, and a slow smile pulled on his lips. He was joking. But something in his eyes didn’t relent.
I swallowed and glanced back out the window.
Entering through the front doors of the restaurant I slept in a few nights ago was a different experience today. It may be timeworn and slightly dusty, but the delicious smells that hit me in the face made me salivate. Unlike the first time I was here, the place was now full.
I locked eyes with a man I recognized from that night. The smoker. He leaned against the bar nursing a glass of clear liquid. His gaze flickered with something so harsh