Page 39 of Fastest Kill

"Amore mio, I'm so sorry," he said plaintively.

"I don't want to hear your excuses," she snapped back, her hands tugging at his long hair. "Just shut up and kiss me."

She dragged her teeth over his bottom lip, and Dario made a sexy growling sound that vibrated all the way from her lips to her pussy. Oh god, that wasn't fair at all. She ground up against his dick in retaliation, making his grip on her tighten.

Frederica counted to ten and pulled back to look over his shoulder. Dario's mouth dropped to her neck, the stubble of his beard brushing over her skin. Frederica bit down a whimper, and she forced her eyes open to check on security.

The doorway was empty.

"Staff member is finally gone," she said breathlessly. "He was watching us like a damn pervert."

"I know. I think we made his night," Dario replied, his voice completely level. She let go of his lapels, and he lowered her leg.

They walked without hurrying, and neither of them said anything until they were inside their car, and she had the reliquary out of its hiding spot. His brows went up.

"What? I needed to put it somewhere," she said and started laughing, because the whole scene of Polat's face and the horror of the other guests was a disaster.

"That was the dumbest thing I have ever seen," she said between giggles.

Dario was smiling. "You're welcome for that, Spartana."

"I can't believe that worked."

"I had less than a minute to come up with something! You're lucky it wasn't worse."

The low light of the car made the shadows dance on his face. He was still grinning, and it was big and genuine.

"What did you say to Polat? My Turkish is rusty," she asked.

"Only that I had been testing him because a collector had told me the documentation on a piece in his collection was questionable. I had wanted to see how he responded to pressure." He shrugged. "I told him he did very well and that I would be passing his name to my client as a reputable source."

She stared at him. "He believed that shit?"

"He wanted to. People usually do to make the embarrassing moment go away."

"Huh, what an idiot."

The adrenaline was still moving through Frederica, warm and electric, making the edges of everything slightly too bright, too clear, and her own heartbeat audible. She was very aware of how small the car was and how Dario was too big for it.

"Hotel," she said, looking into the visor mirror and wiping a smear of lipstick off her chin. Dario never did anything by halves, and she looked like a drunk clown. "Quickly, before anyone figures out we didn't arrive at the party together."

"Hotel," Dario agreed and started the car.

17

The elevator ride up from the lobby took approximately three hours. Or that was what it felt like, with Dario's shoulder brushing Frederica's every time the ancient cab shuddered. The smell of him—smoke and aftershave and expensive whiskey—was still in her lungs, the taste of him in her mouth. The ghost of her lipstick was stamped faintly across his mouth in the mirrored panel above the buttons. He hadn't bothered to wipe it off, wearing it instead like a trophy.

Frederica tried to think unsexy thoughts and stared straight ahead at their warped reflections in the cheap chrome.

Her hair was still loose from the museum, curling around her shoulders and down to her waist. The black dress clung in places where her clothes usually didn't, and she was trying not to feel self-conscious about it.

Dario, on the other hand, looked like he was coming off a movie set with an open white shirt rolled to the elbows, tie hanging undone around his neck, jacket draped over his shoulder, the line of his throat gleaming with sweat, her lipstick painting lust all over him.

Unsexy thoughts. Unsexy thoughts, Frederica urged, the toe of her boot tapping impatiently.

The elevator jolted to a halt at their floor with the finesse of a truck hitting a pothole. The lights flickered, and the car shook. Frederica hit the door button until it opened and stepped out into the corridor without waiting for him.

Dario's footsteps were unhurried behind her, that easy panther prowl that looked casual until you'd seen him take a man apart in four seconds flat with the same ease.