“And how long will this take? How much should I buy?”
“I don’t know. Figure a few days.”
Nodding, I realized that meant bras and fresh underwear. Jesus Christ, I could be here all night. I hadn’t planned to buy a brand-new wardrobe.
Get yourself together. You’re a queen. Queens don’t cry.
“This is overwhelming me. And you hovering isn’t helping.” I looked him up and down. “Don’t you need clothes?”
“I’m a guy. I’ll make do.”
“You tore apart your undershirt. Your dress shirt is full of dried blood. You think that suit’s gonna hold up for a few days? And you may not care what you’re wearing, but you’re a guy. Guys tend to smell pretty bad in the same clothes after a couple of days.”
He rolled his eyes.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered, I’ll give you that. How about...” I noticed a sign across the aisle for the wireless department.
Burner phones...
I stiffened my spine, realizing I had to take more control of this situation. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I have no money. No phone. Cameras all over the place dying to get a look at my face to send the signal into space where my hitman can find me. You got me, Julian. I’m not going anywhere. You need clothes and toiletries too. I have to buy underwear.”
“I don’t mind if you go commando,” he said with a sly smile that nearly wormed its way past my defenses.
I strutted up to him, and his chest expanded. “If we were in an expensive lingerie shop, I’d let you watch me pick out very sexy lace panties. But we’re not in an expensive lingerie shop, are we?”
“No,” he answered, harshly, like he too wished we were in that situation and not this one.
“So let me get my ugly cotton panties alone. This whole situation is embarrassing enough.”
“Fine.” He pulled me closer. “Ten minutes. Then I come looking for you and I’m dragging you to the checkout stand even if you don’t have any panties.”
My heart spiked. “Deal.” I licked my lips and his jaw jumped.
“Stop teasing me with that mouth, Miss Domenico. I may not be able to stop myself this time.”
“Promise,” came out of my mouth and I stepped back, shocked at myself. “Ten minutes. If I don’t see you at checkout, I’m leaving. Someone here can hotwire that car of yours.”
He scoffed a laugh then turned around.
Without his eyes on me, his breath warming my skin, and his body against mine, I felt empty. I’d lost so much in one damn day. I buried my father earlier. Someone took a shot at me. Now another hitman hunted me.
And I didn’t have my men.
Rushing past an aisle of clothes, I grabbed whatever looked to be my size, not caring what it was and made my way to the wireless department. I couldn’t purchase a burner phone because I had no money, but I had another idea.
“Hi. Listen. I’m in trouble.”
The stout woman behind the counter gave me a once-over. “What kind of trouble?”
“Someone is after me. And I had to leave my house without my wallet.”
She eyed my basket overflowing with moisturizer and skinny jeans. “I’m here with someone who’s holding me against my will. Sort of.” Damn, I sounded like that woman who got me to buy formula for her baby.
“Sort of? Do you want me to call the cops?”
“No,” I pushed out, knowing that kind of scene would set off alarm bells. No doubt the hitman was monitoring local police networks. As much as I wanted my guys to find me, I didn’t want the hitman to find me first.
“You look smart. I don’t know how you let a man abuse you,” the woman said.
I kept checking over my shoulder. “I know. I got myself in trouble.”
“I can’t give away a phone, let alone to someone without ID.”
Nodding, I turned away, but then a thought crashed through me. “Hang on. Can I... Can I use your phone? Just one call to a friend to come pick me up.”
Rolling her eyes, she unlocked her iPhone and handed it to me.
My fingers shook, looking at the keypad.
Shit.
Tears leaked out of my eyes.
I didn’t know anyone’s phone number by heart. They were all programmed into my contact list. Numbers that just transferred from phone to phone to phone. The Warwick. I had to call the Warwick hotel. That number was listed on the internet. I had to find the browser and...
“Becca!” Julian’s voice startled me.
I held the phone in the air. Closing my eyes, I turned around. “I didn’t call anyone. I don’t know anyone’s number. Or the Warwick’s main access line by heart.”
Julian took the phone from me, disappointment in his eyes. “This is how the wrong person will find you,” he whispered harshly.
“I know.” But I wanted my men to find me.
“Is this yours?” Julian asked the woman behind the counter.
I eyed the woman, embarrassed how I’d made it seem like I was in so much trouble. Held against my will by a stunningly gorgeous man.
Woe is me.
“Sure is.” The woman held out her hand. “She didn’t make a call. I was watching her.”
“She’s just upset.” Julian tried to reason with the woman. “Her father just died. We buried him this morning.” He put his arm around me. “We’re taking a spur-of-the-moment vacation. Just to get away. Reconnect. Her and me. Right, sweetheart?” Julian kissed me.
His mouth moved hotly over mine, his sweet tongue sliding past the seam of my lips. The taste of him shocked me, blindsided me with lust and the kind of visceral want I understood now.
Giancarlo had opened me up after years of feeling dead.
I threw my arms around Julian and he deepened the kiss. His lips grinned against mine and when I stared up at him, he growled wickedly at me. Chills cascaded down my spine, then intense warmth pooled in my core. Radiated through me, electrifying my fingertips. Julian’s gaze of blue fire skittered over me like one of those hot stones rubbed down my back during a massage.
Every muscle tightened, and my panties went damp. My clit throbbed to the point of agony if he didn’t touch me. I assumed we were going to a hotel later. Or most likely a motel since we were in the middle of nowhere.
Julian broke the kiss and ran the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. “So soft.”
I couldn’t think straight. Swallowing, I glanced at the woman looking at me with anger in her eyes. She probably now thought I tried to scam a phone from her.
At the checkout stand, Julian dumped all our items on the belt. By the register, thin plastic bags hung from a carousel and I watched the woman haphazardly shove all the clothes into those bags.
Oh, how the queen has fallen.
Just because the clothes were cheap didn’t mean I deserved to look like a wrinkled mess. Pushing my way past Julian, I said, “Excuse me.” I pulled the sweater from the girl. “These are clothes. Not towels. They’ll get wrinkled.”
I went on to rearrange all the bags, folding Julian’s tee-shirts and sweatpants too.
“Thank you,” he said, smiling.
As he dug through his wallet, I said to the checkout monster, “Do you really only have these small flimsy plastic bags? What a waste. Any paper bags? Shopping bags?”
“You can buy a reusable plastic shopping bag,” she said all snidey.
“How much?”
“Ninety-nine cents.” She held one up.
“We’ll take two.” I snatched them and placed our neatly folded clothes in one, and our toiletries in the other.
“Uh oh...” Julian said, standing at the keypad. His hand shook, holding a black credit card in his fingers.
“What?” I asked.
The stress in his voice had me backing up into him, looking around. And burying myself under his arm.
“It’s fine,” he whispered, kissing the side of my head. “I just...”
I turned around. “What?”
“I used my personal credit card by mistake.” His voice grew angry. “You’re too much of a damn distraction. Do you know that? With that hot mouth and sinful body of yours. Folding the clothes. You’re messing me up.”
“What does that mean?”
He held his head when the cashier gave him the receipt. “Thank you.” He snatched it from her and gripped my arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. But we have to get out of here right now. I just left a footprint. Someone can find us any moment.”
Hopefully that meant my men could find me.