Page 88 of Dark Romeo

“I’m not as good as you think I am.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really.” I leaned in closer, drawn in by his scent and his pure masculine presence; a thrill of fear mixed with lust shot through my body. I finally admitted to myself, I may be turned on by the danger of being here. Any one of his family might recognize me like he had.

It was the same kind of rush that I sought out by joining the police academy. The same kind of rush I felt when engaging with an assailant. The fear didn’t make me freeze like it did some people. It made things sharper, clearer. Just like now, even in the low light of the crystal chandeliers, I could see Roman’s pupils dilating, his Adam’s apple hitching as I slid a hand onto his arm. He was remembering what it was like to be this close to me, just like I was remembering too. Skin on skin. Wet tongues dancing. Hot flesh colliding.

Heat flooded my panties and turned my core into an aching ball. My heart began to bang against my ribs. His lips parted, a reaction I mirrored. If I leaned in any closer… If I just tilted up my face…

“Roman, bro!” a male’s voice called out. I jumped back. Roman played it much cooler, smoothing out the front of his expensive suit jacket and acknowledging the man beside me with a nod of his chin. They spoke briefly in low tones. I noticed Roman subtly shifting his body between me and his acquaintance. Like he was protecting me.

Don’t be stupid, Julianna. He’s trying to hide you.

The other man wore a dark gray suit which didn’t fit him as well as Roman’s did. His cheeks carried the first flush of liquor from behind a simple pirate’s mask. I didn’t think I recognized him. I kept my eyes averted and gulped the rest of my champagne, setting the empty glass on a tray as it went past.

As soon as the other man strode away, Roman grabbed me and closed the gap between us, causing a shiver to run down my spine. He lowered his mouth to my ear. “Get out. Now.”

“I know you did something to the security footage at the hotel,” I blurted out.

He glared at me, his eyes darting around us before locking onto mine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I watched it,” I said in a low voice. “Somehow the footage of me leaving your hotel room is missing. That’s evidence tampering.”

He leaned in, his eyes glittering, his voice filled with amusement. “Are you going to turn me in, detective?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Then we have nothing more to say to each other about it.”

“Except…thank you,” I whispered.

He looked taken aback for a second. Then he snorted, his top lip pulling up into a sneer. “Don’t think I did it for you. I did what I had to do to protect myself. I just happen to be protecting you at the same time.”

He was lying. I could see underneath the bravado he was trying so desperately to cling to.

“Roman!” another male voice called out over the music.

Roman cursed under his breath and I swear I heard my name cursed as well. A group of three men swarmed us, taking up space like they owned the bar. They all had dark hair and dark eyes like Roman’s, their faces partly obscured by the same raven mask as Roman had on. I froze. Oh, shit. These men were Tyrell men.

Two of them were flashing wild grins as they scanned the crowd, barely noticing me. The third one, however, was staring at me. I suddenly felt naked. I wrapped an arm across my waist, not that it would stop him from seeing me.

I chanced a glance at him again—still staring. My gaze landed on the familiar scar that came out from under his mask. It was Scarface. Abel Montero. The Tyrell butcher. The man who’d been chasing Roman through the graveyard. The same man who had forced Roman into his father’s limo at gunpoint. The one who almost caught me at Roman’s apartment. My blood froze. I tore my eyes away from his probing ones. I had to stay calm. Don’t react. Don’t panic.

I tried to look bored. I tried to look for a waiter with more champagne just for something to do with my hands. Or for my nerves. Of course, there were none to be found when I needed them. I found Roman watching me, then glancing at Abel, a furrow between his brows the only thing betraying his anxiety.

One of the other men clasped Roman on the shoulder. “We got some shit to talk about. Some shipments?—”

“This is not the time, Benvolio,” Roman growled. “Talk to me later.” He waved at the group of ladies dressed in slinky minidresses standing to one side who were looking our way. “Go keep them company for me.” Right. They’d been the ones he had been standing with before he came over to me. That’s why they were batting their eyelashes at him and glaring at me like they wanted to murder me.

Benvolio looked over to them, his chin dipping as he gave them an exaggerated once-over. He whistled. “Dayum. If you don’t want them, I’ll have them.”

“Dude,” one of his friends said, shoving Benvolio aside. “Plenty to share.”

“No way. Dibs on them all.”

Roman snorted as the two grinners sauntered across the room. Then he called out after them, “You’re just keeping them occupied until I get back.”

Roman’s words stung, reminding me that I wasn’t wanted here. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong with him. I swallowed the hurt down and forced myself not to react.

---