Page 42 of Break the Ice
“There was a team event at the Onyx that night,” I say, my smile polite.
“Which is also why I’m interviewing you, Ms. March. You were there that night, weren’t you?”
“Briefly. I showed up late and left early.”
He tilts his head slightly, his curious expression returning. “Anything in particular make you leave early?”
“I’m not much for parties past my bedtime.”
“It gets harder in your thirties,” he says, laughing. “I used to be able to stay up all night for precinct events. Now I’m nodding off ten minutes into social hour.”
“I can’t say it’s never happened to me. But I wish you luck with your investigation.”
“When was the last time you saw Mr. Hawk, Ms. March?”
I blink, my pearly white smile pasted on. “That night. We had a brief meeting. He seemed to have a lot of those planned. I saw him and Daniel Beringer having their own discourse.”
“Discourse? Mr. Hawk and Mr. Beringer?”
“You’d have to ask Mr. Beringer for more about their exchange. I only walked in on the back half. It seemed they had a lot to talk about. Business and money, you know, important topics that people get passionate about.”
“I see. That sounds something I might need to look into.”
Detective Gomez thanks me for my time with another firm handshake and handsome smile.
Only a few minutes later, I see Jerry guiding him into one of our conference rooms to meet with a clammy-faced Mr. Beringer.
No meeting I want to be a part of.
I return to my desk, happy to focus on work the rest of the morning. It makes it easier to tune out the time. Soon it closes in on eleven. The PR lunch is half an hour away and I’m left wondering if maybe I wanted to be a part of that Gomez/Beringer interview after all. The door’s still closed from when Jerry first brought them in.
How can you possibly have that many questions? Is Mr. Beringer confessing to something?
He and Mr. Hawk had looked on bad terms that night…
I’m so distracted by these thoughts that I’m slow to react when my office door pops open. Rafe slides through, then slams the door shut like he never opened it in the first place. He’s fresh off his post-practice shower. His hair’s still wet, and the cotton t-shirt he wears looks crisp and new. He must’ve come straight here once practice was over and he’d changed.
His bruises from the other night have begun to fade, though they don’t make him any less attractive. If anything, the gash above his brow and bruise faintly visible through the scruff on his jaw make him more attractive.
Rafe Golding will always be a fine man.
It’s undeniable no matter how much I hate him.
I sit up in my chair. “You must love turning up places you were never invited. Do I need to ask why you’re here?”
He strides toward me ’til he’s enveloping me. His hand seeks my throat and he’s standing over me, tipping my head up to connect my eyes with his gaze. His stare is harsh and scolding before he’s crashing down in a hard kiss.
“Don’t you ever fucking ignore me during practice again. Is that understood, Sugar?” he growls. “Next time, I bend you over my knee in front of the whole team and turn your ass red. Make sure you get it.”
I melt into his kiss at the feel of his warm, demanding lips.
It’s like my weekend recovery never happened—I’m swept into the chemical charge between us.
The secrecy makes Rafe’s kisses that much hotter. The risk we’re taking at being found out.
Someone could walk in at any moment. Jerry or the detective could return. Others could come by about today’s PR lunch.
The thought provokes a deep sense of thrill. It turns me on to know we’re playing this little game in secret. It makes me crave more. Yearn to discover just what else Rafe’s game will entail.
