“No one shortly before him?”
“Rafe is the only man I have had sex with in over a year,” I state.
His eyebrow rise, like that surprises him. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, my eyes dropping to the plate.
“Well, that does narrow it down,” he admits. “What ripples do you think it would cause?”
“Ripples?”
Nodding once, he reminds me, “You said if Vince found out Rafe got you pregnant, there could be devastating ripples. Expand on that.”
I really, really, really don’t want to talk about this, especially with him. “I think there’s a major conflict of interest here. You obviously work for Rafe, he is obviously a little worried about Vince… I don’t know about all this kidnapping business, but my impression of my brother-in-law is that he’s a pretty good guy, so I would feel terrible if I got him in some kind of trouble. I don’t think we should talk about that.”
If I expected Sin to accept my unwillingness to give potentially incriminating analyses about my brother-in-law, I was heading for disappointment. Minor annoyance flickers in his dark eyes as he looks up at me, and his tone shifts, taking on more authority. “When I ask a question, Laurel, I expect an answer.”
Poking this bear probably isn’t a great idea, but what can he really do to me in a public restaurant? Smiling pleasantly, I remark, “We don’t always get what we expect out of life, do we, Sin?”
Sin is not amused. “Just answer the damn question.”
“Or what? You’ll tie me to your bed again?”
“Maybe,” he answers, easily. “Maybe this time I’ll break out all four cuffs. Tie those pretty little ankles up, too. Stand at the foot of the bed and take in the view. What color are your emergency panties, Laurel?”
He asks the questions so casually, but by the end, my face is on fire and my stomach is in knots. Now that I’m acquainted with his bed and the soft leather cuffs, I can picture the bed where I’d be spread out, feel the soft leather restraints rendering me helpless. I can even smell the shower-fresh scent of him and visualize what he looks like naked as he climbs on top of my helpless body.
Fuck, I need to go home. I’ve already done this vacation hook-up bullshit, and I do not need more of that. When did criminals get so hot?
“I asked you a question,” he states.
“I can’t remember the question,” I reply, honestly. I’m struggling to remember anything with sordid visuals flying through my mind. “When do I get to go home? I really need to go home.”
His gaze drops to the food and he grabs another zucchini disc, breaking it in half. Without looking up at me, he states, “You’ll have to talk to Rafe first.”
“I already talked to Rafe.”
Sin shrugs. “He wants to talk to you again. He may be a pain in the ass, but the man tends to get what he wants.”
“Fine.” Bending to retrieve my purse, I put it on my lap and dig out my cell phone. As much as I’ve been dreading it, if talking to him is what I have to do to get out of this place, then I’ll talk to the bastard. There’s a new message from him now, but I swipe open the message before I bother reading it.
The first one reads, “Make it home safely?”
I roll my eyes. Like he fucking cares. Asshole.
A second message only an hour later reads, “According to the airline, you have, so I assume you don’t want to talk to me.”
/>
You assume right. Someone get the man a prize.
The newest message reads, “I have to admit, I don’t love being ignored.”
Snorting with laughter, I mutter, “Yeah, bet you’re not used to it, are you?”
“Not used to what?” Sin asks.
Flicking a glance in his direction, I say, “Being ignored. Rafe isn’t a big fan, apparently.”