Page 13 of The Huntress and Her Hound

I narrow my gaze, scrutinizing his face. “And why were you going out so late?”

His jaw ticks, and his own eyes alight with a challenge. “I wanted a drink, and bars are allowed to keep their doors open twenty-four-seven—but I’m sure you know that with all your late-night wanderings, don’t you?”

I bite down on my lip. “So you think you saw me?”

His lip curls up into a smirk. “I hate to break it to you, but the wig and dog are a pretty defining feature, among other things.”

A pang of panic threatens to take over, and I grip the edge of the counter to keep my hands from shaking. Jude and Henry have been here less than a day, and I’ve already been caught.

I have to be more careful.

“I like to be discreet when I go out. This city is full of creeps.”

“I think I know a drug deal when I see one,” Jude snorts, rolling his eyes. “And Henry is going to kill you when he finds out you’re—”

“No,” I cut him off and take a step around the island to close some of the distance between us. “You can’t tell Henry about anything you saw. It’s not what you think.”

Jude laughs. “Right. So, you meeting up with someone in a sketchy ass alley, and exchanging a package is not what I think? Dare I ask what you’re doing then?”

I blink a couple of times, and then it hits me, the realization almost as shocking as it is suffocating. “You were following me.”

“Hardly,” he scoffs, tipping his head back. “Like I said, I stayed up all night getting set up, and I wanted a drink. It’s not my fucking fault you parade around in a costume at odd hours in the morning. It drew my attention seeing you morph into Lady Gaga style costumes.”

I’m silent for a few moments, my mind conjuring up how the hell to get around what he just saw. “I work with Sarah,” I tell him her alias. “She works at the bar with me, and she had just gotten off work. I left my book that I ordered at work last night.”

“Cool story,” Jude snaps at me, his eyes boring into mine. “As if it’s the truth.”

I raise a brow. “Would you like proof?”

He drums his fingers on the granite countertop. “Sure.”

I reach for my bag and pull out the package. My heart thumps in my chest as I toss it toward Jude, hoping like hell she didn’t load it with any surprises. “Open it. Go through it. Do whatever you want.”

“It’s still sealed,” he comments as he rips it open.

I hold my breath as he pulls out a hardcover popular romance book. Sarah always brings me a book as a part of our deal, and the tiny bag of product is attached to the front of it. I separate them as I cram them into my purse as a safety measure.

“Hmm.” Jude pours over the book, shakes the pages out, and takes off the dust jacket. I fold my arms across my chest and continue to wait. Finally, he tosses it down on the counter. “Strange.”

Relief floods through my body. “Happy now?”

“I don’t think my happiness relies on whether or not you’re dealing drugs,” Jude snorts, shaking his head. “But whatever. Sure. You picked up a book in a creepy ass alley.” He’s clearly disgruntled by the revelation.

“Hate to break it to you, but my life is not that exciting,” I tell him, feigning a weak, embarrassed smile. “The alleyway leads to the bar I work at, too. So, it’s not even all that creepy. We all use it.”

He nods, though his expression is difficult to discern as he scoots the book toward me. “Well, sorry for assuming the worst.”

“It’s okay,” I reply with a smile that I, once again, don’t mean. “Just maybe find someone else to stalk through the streets of Vegas. There are a lot more interesting women out there to follow. Trust me.” He stays silent, staring at the book, and I can visibly picture the wheels turning in his head. “I won’t tell my brother what happened.”

Jude looks up at me then, his lips pursed. “Probably best not to.”

I nod, and then find myself suddenly dissecting his eyes with my own, feeling the urge to squirm as I realize how stunning the light green hues are. His irises are indiscriminately jade, rather than brown. Yet somehow they appear more caramel colored under normal observation with his strawberry blonde hair. Now, I realize they’re fucking breathtaking, paired with his masculine nose and slender jawline.

He's secretly beautiful.

A surge of discomfort and fear pulses through my veins in that moment, and I can’t put my finger on why I’m suddenly feeling so disturbed in Jude’s presence. I surround myself with handsome men all the time. But still, I rip my eyes away from him and stare at my bare feet. I feel like a mouse about to be lured into a trap.

“I’m going to bed now,” Jude drawls at my silence. “Enjoy your book.” He taps on the hard cover as he passes by me. I inhale a whiff of sandalwood mixed with smoke and bourbon, but I don’t lift my eyes or say anything to him as he passes. Everything in me shifts from the encounter—and I feel myself begin to spiral.

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