One thing was for sure, Nicole thought, reaching for the door—they had to make this work. She couldn’t run from him now. Nor he from her. They were stuck together for at least a week, maybe more. Constantine had to include her in the decisions being made. She wouldn’t be shut out.
She walked to the rear of the vehicle and stopped in front of him. His hands were on his hips, the look on his face impatient. He wanted food and rest; she wanted answers. “Where are we exactly?”
His eyes glinted with steel. “An hour from the boat.”
“Then why stop? I thought you wanted—”
“To eat and get some rest.”
Her lips thinned, her eyes probing, searching the hard expression in those eyes for some vestige of peace. But she found none. No emotion, no sensuality, no comfort. He’d shut her out. “Constantine—”
He reached in his pocket and handed her a black wallet. She looked at it, confused. “Not Constantine,” he said. “Michael Rodriquez.”
She opened the black leather cover and stared at her own picture next to the unfamiliar name. “Sarah Rodriquez?”
“Right,” he said. “You’re my wife.” With that said, he motioned toward the elevator. “Let’s move.”
She lagged several steps behind him, about to reach for his arm and demand they clear the air. But one look around the garage, cars lined up one after another, and she took off after him. Anyone could hide behind, underneath or even inside one of the vehicles.
She caught up with him in a half run. “We have no bags. Don’t you think that looks funny? Even our clothes—”
“Looks like we’ve been rolling around on the beach. Two lovebirds who can’t get enough of each other.” He kept walking. “Don’t overcomplicate matters.”
She made a frustrated sound. “I’m just trying to survive here.”
He stopped in front of the elevator and punched the arrow button. “Then do as I say.”
He stepped into the elevator, faced forward and pushed the button to hold the door. She didn’t move; her blood boiled at the bossy arrogance of his attitude. He had made the act of entering that elevator some sort of submission on her part.
A car sounded behind her. His gaze went beyond her shoulder and then back to her face. His voice was low, but as intense as if he had shouted. “Get into the elevator.”
Her heart skipped a beat just thinking about someone approaching. She moved forward. When she turned and could see the garage again, she was relieved to notice only a woman and a small child getting out of a car. She let out a breath, thankful she was safe.
Constantine let go of the elevator button, and stepped backward. “You relax far too easily. Everyone—man, woman and child—is a potential enemy. Don’t forget it.”
If everyone was a potential enemy, was he? He’d lied to her and done a split-personality routine. She was confused, tired. She didn’t know what to believe at this point.
The elevator doors opened to display a busy, though very average-looking lobby. People seemed to be everywhere. Nicole stared into the hustle and bustle with concern. “Shouldn’t we be secluded somewhere?”
His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close to his side. The warmth of his touch seared her straight through her clothes. Anger apparently did nothing to lessen his impact on her senses.
“Safety in numbers,” he said, leaning down so that his breath tickled her neck, warm and inviting. The sensation brought back memories of intimate moments, of forbidden touches.
She tried to act like everything was fine. Like a woman would act with her husband. That almost drew a laugh from her. Marriage often came with tension. If her marriage had been any indicator, strain between her and Constantine would seem quite the norm.
Nicole clenched her teeth. Being this bitter wasn’t what she wanted. And she really thought she had those old feelings beaten. She forced her demons away and smiled at the desk clerk.
Minutes later, she stood next to Constantine as he slid a room key into a door handle. Awareness charged the air and defied the coldness of his demeanor. They both knew they might disagree on the justice system, but there was one area they agreed on completely—sex. Something their one-bed suite was going to make hard to ignore.
Chapter Eleven
CONSTANTINE SHOVED open the door to the hotel room, as aware of Nicole’s nearness as he was of his next breath. More aware actually. Breathing came without thought. Every second he was near Nicole, he desired her. Hell. He could feel her body next to his even when he wasn’t touching her. When he wasn’t lusting after her, daydreaming over how he’d take her if he ever got her naked again, guilt nipped at his gut over what a complete, total ass he’d been to her, bringing up her past as he had.