Page 11 of Hidden

Built like the kind of guy who could throw you over his shoulder and rock your world in some very interesting positions.

And there I go again.

Wearing a black suit that looks like it might rip at any moment, Enzo touches the comm at his ear. And he’s blocking my way.

“Hadley.” Enzo pauses at the entrance to the hall’s double doors, his stance wide and his arms casual.

The hair on my neck stands up. I turn before I know why I’m turning. Leif is rounding the corner. Something doesn’t feel right. But I can’t quite name it.

“Mr. Flauros,” I say it with a smile because he is my boss’s what?Assistant? Muscle? Bodyguard?“How can I help you?”

He stares at me like he is staring straight through me to Leif and I’m in the way. Maybe that’s why I step to the side.

No idea, but that sidestep?

It does me dirty.

I trip. One heel catches the other and I’m going down.

Only I don’t hit the floor. Leif catches me. And there it is again. The scent of icing I just got out of my head.

“Hadley.” My name rushes from his lips and it does funny things to my stomach. And dangerous things to the other parts of me.

“Up.” Enzo says from behind me flatly. The hand at the small of my back is the only thing keeping me upright now that Leif is letting go like I’m too hot to touch.

“Sorry. Heels. Stupid shoes.” I wave at my own foot like it’s the one that needs to apologize. “I’ll just—yeah. Air. I need air. Do you need air? I need to breathe.”

Maybe more wine and less talking.

I center myself, which is an impossible task with two delicious men hovering over me.

Their pupils are blown to hell and back. Something I’m not dissecting right now and maybe not ever. Because if I think about it my hindbrain will tell me it’s lust. That look is all lust and sexy secrets and dirty positions in back rooms.

Oh hell.

“Excuse me,” I squeak, heading back toward Africa and quiet restrooms where I can plunge myself in cold water.

I’m practically running, tapping my comm that is still quiet. As I round a bend, I give the security camera the finger and enter the dark bathroom. Alone.

The light delay takes longer than three seconds, and I’m already at the sink by the time the light flickers on.

My palms flatten on the porcelain sink, the cold anchors me back to reality as I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.Slowly.

It’s not helping.

Looking at the woman in the mirror is pointless. Her silvery faded pink hair sits at the base of her head in a bun. Strands fly away from the humidity. Pale cheeks flush pink and my chest is splotchy.

“Told you to go for the sleeved dress,” I mutter at the mirror. I hang my head and flip on the faucet. Cold water pours into my hand and though I want nothing more than to splash it on my face, I’m way too vain to let my makeup run.

So I sip the water like the dainty bitch I am and turn it back off.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” I hiss at the reflection. “Two years of nun behavior and now you want to lick a stranger in a service hallway? And be the filling in an Enzo and Leif cookie. Pull it together,slut.”

I’m really not.

So I can only blame absolute insanity for my next thought.

“Get off and get back to it.” I eye up that handicap stall. It’s a terrible idea.