Just like I wasn’t.
Moving closer to him, I whispered, “Are you turned on?”
His brow puckered. “Of course I am. We’re in the middle of a spy game. How couldn’t I be?”
“There is no game,” I retorted. “Plus, even if Iwereon a mission, we could die.”
His eyes gleamed. “But fuck, we’d have lived.”
“You’ve been stuck in your penthouse for too long,” I grumbled. “If my grandfather’s as all-fired powerful as he claims, then you should talk to him about forcing the NSA to let you travel. Spread your wings. You’ve got cabin fever of the brain.”
A crowd of people shifted toward us, evidently on one of the many tours around the old town, and he pushed up against me to avoid the mass of humanity.
That was when I felt his dick nudging my ass.
Rolling my lips inward to hide my smile, I muttered, “I don’t know what you’re doing with that.”
“Me either.” His free hand slipped around my waist and he pressed down against my stomach. “Do you know what’s hot?”
“What?” I asked, amused.
“That you don’tknowhow hot you are.”
I snorted. “Thanks. I think.”
He tutted. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll know.”
My brows rose. “When do you think you’ll be done with me?”
“When I’m ninety-nine.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t expected that answer. Hadn’t expected it at all. I cleared my throat. “You can’t say that to people.”
“You’re not people,” he pointed out, snagging my languishing piece of pie before it tumbled to the ground thanks to my lax grip.
“I'm not?”
“Nah. You’re not.”
Was that heartburn?
It spread throughout my chest.
It was warm.
It burned.
Yeah, I thought uncomfortably.Heartburn.
I cleared my throat again and watched as he ate the remainder of my pizza. “You owe me another slice.”
“I also owe you gelato.”
“I forgot it was winter.” My nose crinkled. “I’m already cold enough.”
“How about hot chocolate? There has to be somewhere around here—”
A small popping sound pinged to life to my right. The stone wall beside me exploded where the projectile hit, leaving a mid-sized hole behind and sending debris over my winter coat.