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“I’ll go,” Raven said, though he was still bent over his doodling. “Give me a minute.”

Not what I wanted. “I’m not going to the beach yet. I just wanted to stretch. Going to walk around the inside of the hotel.” I waved them off. “I won’t be long. Probably won’t leave the hotel.”

“There’s an indoor pool somewhere,” Corey said. He turned to Raven. “Maybe we should have gotten a bathing suit for her.”

Raven shrugged. “We can go back out again. There’s a mall.”

“We’ve got some time to kill before the guys come in,” Corey said.

“Don’t buy me stuff,” I said. “I’m just walking around. Geez.” I went to the door, opening it and closing it in a hurry before Raven could finish his drawing.

FLIRT WITH DANGER

I double-checked where I was and started jogging toward the elevator. I got in, and smacked the lobby button a dozen times to get it to hurry along. I wanted to lose Raven in case he tried coming after me.

Where was Blake? Outside was a lot of space to cover.

When the elevator doors opened, there was a buzz of activity in a sitting area nearby. There was a group of women with shopping bags at their feet. Tourists. There were more of them standing by the restaurant. If Raven came down, they’d be able to tell them where I went.

My flip-flops slapped against my heels as I picked a direction, pretending to know where I was going. I wanted to find a side door. I ended up in an empty bar, no one inside but a hotel worker starting to straighten chairs and setting up for the evening. No exit.

I backtracked, trying to find the way to the pool. As I was walking around the main floor, past the hotel’s restaurant, a hand snaked out from behind a corner, catching my elbow.

I swallowed a yelp and slid sideways, bumping hard into Blake Coaltar.

A curse caught in my throat, and I slapped his arm at sneaking up on me. The golden flecks in his eyes sparked like he enjoyed catching me by surprise.

“Trying to run away without me?” he asked, his voice thickly Charleston, refined and southern. The start of a smirk played on his lips. His hair was blond perfection, long enough to frame his face. His was unshaven, in a magazine model-stylish kind of way. He wore a gray dress shirt, un-tucked with the sleeves rolled up his arms, and a pair of designer jeans. His clothes seemed to be custom made just for his body, fitting in places that made me buzz with excitement just from looking at him.

“Blake,” I said through my teeth. “Don’t do that.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were trying to ambush me again,” he said. He released me, and then leaned heavily on a cane. He had large dark shadows underneath his eyes and his lids were puffy.

I recoiled, taking a step back, feeling guilty for being the cause of him having to use a cane. “If you’re here to sue me,” I said, “you should know I’ve got exactly two pennies to my name.”

He smirked and shook his head. “I’d play, sweetheart, but we don’t have the time. Did you leave the cell phone?”

I raised an eyebrow. “No,” I said.

He tilted his head back, like he didn’t expect me to have it on me. He held a single finger to his lips. He made a motion with his hand. Give it to me.

I pulled the phone out, presenting it to him. “What?” I asked.

He took the cell phone from me and then walked over to the empty exercise center. He dropped the phone on a ledge near one of the weight sets.

I followed him inside and bumped into him as he was turning to leave again.

“I need that,” I said.

“Let’s go,” he said, and he captured my elbow and started hauling me back through the hall.

“Where are we going?”

He held his finger to his lips, urging me to be quiet. I was tempted to be loud and demand to know what he wanted before I did anything else he wanted me to do. I was already neck deep just by meeting with him.

He headed for a side exit. He limped as he walked, using the cane and his grasp on my elbow to hurry along. When he got to the exit, he released me, pushing with his back to open the door, holding it for me.

Still the Southern gentleman.

Outside was a shiny new black Mercedes, looking like the Batmobile amid all the other cars. He hobbled over to it, taking out his keys and hitting a button to unlock the doors. He held open the passenger side.

“Shouldn’t I drive?” I assumed he drove here, but his limping around made me think maybe he shouldn’t be driving at all. I stood next to him near the open door. I held open my hand for the keys, though I doubted he’d let me drive his brand-new car.

Not to mention I didn’t have a license. I mean I knew how to drive, but I never went for the test.

Blake stared at me. He lifted his fingers, slipping them across his lips, considering.

Then he paused, eyes narrowing on my face.

He threw the cane into the passenger seat and then grabbed me around the waist. He pressed me, so that my butt was leaning against the side of the car.

I thought he was getting ready to yell at me for everything that had happened. I prepped excuses on my tongue, ready to fire off the reasons I had for every action I made.

He dropped his head until his nose touched mine.

His lips brushed against my mouth. It was a scouting kiss. No doubt testing to see if I’d reject him: smack him or bite his lip.

I tried to bring up all the reasons why I didn’t like him. He’d tried to poison people. He’d lied to me.

None of that worked. Instead, I got flashes of him saving me from gang members downtown. Wrestling in his hallway, he’d tried to help me then, in his own way. Later, we’d kissed, and I’d felt the pull inside me, drawing me in.

I felt that now. It was the feeling you have when you are about to pull a daredevil stunt. Excited, anxious, a little thrill of nerves all binding up into the pit of your stomach right before you take the leap.

He didn’t wait for me to figure out if I wanted to. Not slapping him was apparently enough of an invitation. He dove in, kissing me hard against my mouth. It was a long kiss. Slow. Deliberate. When I responded by parting my lips, he deepened it, even letting his tongue slip in.

I didn’t respond as much as let it happen. Maybe it was shock. It was like an overwhelming sense of relief when I realized he didn’t hate me for destroying his yacht and shooting him.

When he finally backed his head away, my mind screamed at me to be cool and show it didn’t affect me.

My body, however, released a sigh, a warm one, full of relief, betraying my deepest, secret thoughts I’d had since I last saw him. How I’d regretted shooting him, and how I hated the thought that he’d betrayed me, because I’d been through a lot with him, and I didn’t want him to be someone I hated.

He backed his head away, but only by an inch. “You’ve got to be the best sort of sweet devil, or one hell of an angel. I haven’t decided which, yet.”

“I thought you said we had to go,” I said. The kissing thing was getting out of hand. I shouldn’t have done that, or allowed it. I was neck deep in my own problems with the guys. Blake shouldn’t even be on the list. Still, I needed to know what he had on the Academy. I pushed at him. “Are we going or what?” I needed to get this over quickly so I could get back.

He smirked. “As you wish.” He motioned to the car.

I got in, sliding in the seat a little. The interior was leather and dark and there were gadgets all over. I started pressing buttons just to feel them click under my fingertips.

He closed the door for me, and then pressed his hand against the hood, using it to help him walk around to the driver’s side. He got in and started up the car, revved and pulled back, revved again, and started forward out of the lot.

“I can’t stay with you long,” I said. “I have to get back to them.”

“Sweetie, you can’t stay with them. You’re going back with me to Palm Beach. If we have to, we’ll hop a plane to Mexico. Or France.” He

turned his head, smiling at me, and then reached for the console, pulling out some aviator sunglasses and then putting them on his face. “Do you think you’ll like France? Most girls do.”

I jerked my head, shocked at how I bubbled with jealousy at the girls comment. I killed it with an eye roll. I shouldn’t care, but I did. I would never show it. Of all things to worry about right now, with Wil and everything else going on. “I just wanted to hear what you had to say. What do you know about this Academy?”

“What do you know?” he asked. His lips pursed, and his face was straight ahead, focused on the road. “You should tell me. You didn’t mention it before. What did they tell you about it?”


Tags: C.L. Stone The Scarab Beetle Romance