His computer buzzes with a different sound than before and he gives me a quick kiss. “We’re going to be okay,” he assures me, sitting back down at the desk to check his screen. I step closer, and the very fact that we fear for his Hunter’s life tells me any version of “okay” with Kayden is still dangerous, and yet he’s somehow, illogically, safe. I don’t know what to do with that piece of information.
“News?” I ask, as he keys in a message and stands once more.
“Unfortunately, no. It’s just someone wanting to talk to me about a job. They can wait.”
“A Hunter or a client?”
“A client.” He picks up a large notebook from the desk. “This contains pictures of every person we know who works for Niccolo.”
“Why do you have that?”
“Money is a common denominator between Hunters and mobsters, and I try to steer our paths in different directions. That requires knowledge and effort.”
And there it is. The answer I realize I’d still desperately wanted. Or at least part of it. “Have you met Niccolo?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” When I would ask more, he changes the subject. “I figured you can look over the photos while we eat, and then we can try and forget all of this for the rest of the day.”
I draw in a heavy breath and exhale on an admission: “I really hate the idea of those photos when I should be embracing them for the answer they could hold.”
He caresses a lock of hair behind my ear. “We can wait until morning, if you prefer.”
The touch is tender, and I wonder what it says about me that the combination of the gentleness in this man and the dirty, dark danger that is also him is so very alluring. But what isn’t alluring is running, hiding, and dying. I take the notebook from him.
“I want to get this over with,” I say, unsure of why I am so certain this book holds a secret I’m not ready to reveal.
nineteen
Kayden and I leave his room to head to breakfast, and the memory of me running down the hall in a towel manages to take precedence over the photos in my hand. “Marabella is going to embarrass me, isn’t she?” I ask as we reach the entryway to the living area.
“Oh yeah,” he confirms, amusement in his voice, his lips quirking in a near smile.
We cross to the kitchen and I glower fiercely at him. “You think it’s funny.”
He grins. “Guilty as charged.”
“It’s not funny,” I chide. “It’s emba
rrassing. I’m not hungry anymore.”
I try to turn away but he snags my waist, kisses my temple, and before I can steel myself for the impact, walks me in front of him and through the kitchen entry. “Ciao, you two,” Marabella greets us from behind the island, her ear-to-ear grin instant. “Have you worked up an appetite?”
I groan and cover my face and Kayden chuckles, sounding way too sexy for how infuriating his amusement is becoming. It’s made worse as he says, “Why yes, we have. In fact, make my pancakes a double stack, please.”
I sink into a chair at the table and set down the notebook, dragging my journal and the file I’d left behind last night to join it. “Can you put booze in my coffee, please?” I plead, while Kayden sits down next to me and taps the notebook, obviously eager for me to take a look. I grimace and add, “Make that a double shot, not stack, for me.”
Marabella giggles like a schoolgirl and delivers two cappuccinos to the table, a cute apron decorated with patches of strawberries covering her knee-length dress. “No booze for you,” she tells me. “Kayden doesn’t keep any in the castle.”
She hurries away and I ignore the notebook to pick up my cup. “You’re more of a control freak than I realized.”
“I’m hopeful that comment comes with a good memory of last night.”
My cheeks heat with the replay of his words in that shower. I will lick you. Bite you. Pinch you. Spank you.
He leans closer. “What are you thinking, Ella?”
“I was just thinking—”
“Right now. What are you thinking right now?”