there is something faintly menacing about the way he paces back and forth. He reminds me of a panther, equally beautiful and lethal.
But obviously that is just my imagination working overtime. I don’t miss the appreciative looks the other women in the hotel are giving him, looks seeped with erotic invitation. With a shock of surprise, I suddenly realize how handsome he is. It’s odd, but I just can’t see Ricco in those terms. I like him a lot, but that essential burn isn’t there.
His welcoming smile falters when he sees me. “Kylie. What is it?”
Crap. Obviously I’m not an actress. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings. Right now I am so stressed, so terrified, that I can’t come up with any words. I look up at Ricco, and he seems so genuinely concerned for me that tears actually pool in my eyes. It’s all too much.
He pulls me with him behind a Chinese folding screen that separates the lobby from the bar area, giving us a bit of temporary privacy. “Tell me,” he says. “What is it? What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
He is tense, fiercely protective, willing to slay dragons for me. In return, I am about to betray him. The irony of it is my undoing. Tears run down my cheeks. “It’s my sister,” I blurt out.
“Your sister?”
“We got into an argument. Her husband forgot her birthday, and so I got mad at him, and she got mad at me… We called each other names… It was awful.” Lie, lie, lie. I’ve become such a good liar. But I don’t know what else to say.
“Ah,” he says, as the tension leaves his face. He pulls me against him and strokes my back. “You want to protect her from her low-life husband, is that it?” He thinks for a minute, and then frowns. “Does he beat her?”
“No! Of course not!” My horror is genuine.
“All right, then.”
“It’s just… I think she deserves so much more. That doesn’t make me an awful person, does it?”
He lets out an amused breath. “No. It makes you a loving sister.” I am righteously validated by his answer, by his assessment of my make-believe crisis, until he softly continues, “But maybe a sister who meddles too much in things that don’t concern her.”
I tug out of his embrace. Tilt back my head to study his face. “What?”
“Kylie. She has married this man. Given him a son. These are her choices. This is what she wants. Let her be happy in the life she has chosen.”
“But—”
“It is not your place to judge her.”
Holy crap. Damned if he isn’t right. “Well. That’s harsh.” I give him a wobbly smile and brush away my tears. “Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I appreciate your saying it.”
He good-naturedly shrugs off my praise. “Friends don’t lie to each other.”
What a prophetic and chilling statement. He’s right. Friends don’t lie to each other. Unless, of course, that friend happens to be me. Time to pull my shit together.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to ruin tonight. It just… family can really get to you, can’t they?”
Ricco stiffens slightly, but doesn’t say anything. It is an awkward moment, until he spies the heavy black backpack I’ve tossed over my shoulder. It looks totally incongruous with my slinky red dress and heels.
“You brought your homework?” he asks.
Unfortunately, yeah. Beckett had me so spun when I stormed out of my house that I grabbed my backpack out of habit. Short of leaving it in the taxi, I had no choice but to bring it with me. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to review our bio notes—”
His laughter cuts me off. He reaches for my backpack and tosses it over his shoulder, relieving me of the burden of its bulky weight. “No. Not tonight. Tonight we will enjoy ourselves. Come. Everyone is waiting for us upstairs.”
Agent Reardon’s warning about not being in private with Juan Diaz comes to mind. “Upstairs? I thought we were having dinner down here.”
“We will,” he assures me. “Later.” He slips his
But obviously that is just my imagination working overtime. I don’t miss the appreciative looks the other women in the hotel are giving him, looks seeped with erotic invitation. With a shock of surprise, I suddenly realize how handsome he is. It’s odd, but I just can’t see Ricco in those terms. I like him a lot, but that essential burn isn’t there.
His welcoming smile falters when he sees me. “Kylie. What is it?”
Crap. Obviously I’m not an actress. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings. Right now I am so stressed, so terrified, that I can’t come up with any words. I look up at Ricco, and he seems so genuinely concerned for me that tears actually pool in my eyes. It’s all too much.
He pulls me with him behind a Chinese folding screen that separates the lobby from the bar area, giving us a bit of temporary privacy. “Tell me,” he says. “What is it? What happened? Did someone hurt you?”
He is tense, fiercely protective, willing to slay dragons for me. In return, I am about to betray him. The irony of it is my undoing. Tears run down my cheeks. “It’s my sister,” I blurt out.
“Your sister?”
“We got into an argument. Her husband forgot her birthday, and so I got mad at him, and she got mad at me… We called each other names… It was awful.” Lie, lie, lie. I’ve become such a good liar. But I don’t know what else to say.
“Ah,” he says, as the tension leaves his face. He pulls me against him and strokes my back. “You want to protect her from her low-life husband, is that it?” He thinks for a minute, and then frowns. “Does he beat her?”
“No! Of course not!” My horror is genuine.
“All right, then.”
“It’s just… I think she deserves so much more. That doesn’t make me an awful person, does it?”
He lets out an amused breath. “No. It makes you a loving sister.” I am righteously validated by his answer, by his assessment of my make-believe crisis, until he softly continues, “But maybe a sister who meddles too much in things that don’t concern her.”
I tug out of his embrace. Tilt back my head to study his face. “What?”
“Kylie. She has married this man. Given him a son. These are her choices. This is what she wants. Let her be happy in the life she has chosen.”
“But—”
“It is not your place to judge her.”
Holy crap. Damned if he isn’t right. “Well. That’s harsh.” I give him a wobbly smile and brush away my tears. “Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I appreciate your saying it.”
He good-naturedly shrugs off my praise. “Friends don’t lie to each other.”
What a prophetic and chilling statement. He’s right. Friends don’t lie to each other. Unless, of course, that friend happens to be me. Time to pull my shit together.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to ruin tonight. It just… family can really get to you, can’t they?”
Ricco stiffens slightly, but doesn’t say anything. It is an awkward moment, until he spies the heavy black backpack I’ve tossed over my shoulder. It looks totally incongruous with my slinky red dress and heels.
“You brought your homework?” he asks.
Unfortunately, yeah. Beckett had me so spun when I stormed out of my house that I grabbed my backpack out of habit. Short of leaving it in the taxi, I had no choice but to bring it with me. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to review our bio notes—”
His laughter cuts me off. He reaches for my backpack and tosses it over his shoulder, relieving me of the burden of its bulky weight. “No. Not tonight. Tonight we will enjoy ourselves. Come. Everyone is waiting for us upstairs.”
Agent Reardon’s warning about not being in private with Juan Diaz comes to mind. “Upstairs? I thought we were having dinner down here.”
“We will,” he assures me. “Later.” He slips his
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