Page 42 of Forbidden Access

Decision made, she picked up the dress.

CHAPTER 17

Damian walked into the empty breakfast room that doubled as a waiting area, and his breath caught in his throat.

Fucking hell, she was gorgeous.

Heat spread through him, rendering the cold shower he’d taken earlier useless. “I knew it would look good on you.”

She did a half turn, her eyes shining. “It’s very pretty. Thank you.”

The only problem was that every goddamned man in the place would be staring at her. If he’d wanted them to blend in, he’d made a colossal mistake. With her copper hair and pale skin, she was already a knockout, but now, in that dress—floral swirls and soft chiffon clinging to her every curve—she was absolutely stunning.

At least the attention wouldn’t be on him for once.

They walked across the plaza, absorbing the evening sounds. A group of teenagers lounged by the fountain, laughing and joking, while locals hurried home after a long day at work. “Clara said this place opens early and closes at ten,” he told Thorn.

“Sounds great.” Her smile made his heart lurch in his chest. He hardly recognized her now. She actually looked like she was having fun. They still had to talk—he knew that—but he wasn’t in any rush to end this brief respite between them.

He wasn’t a fool. He knew what she wanted to discuss, and she was totally justified. This insane attraction between them was throwing her off her game. He knew it, and she knew it. Thorn had lost her prickles, transformed into a beautiful Rose, but that meant she was vulnerable. And if she was vulnerable, he was vulnerable too.

Without her full attention, they were both at risk—as was his presence at CryptoCon, and the update the FBI so desperately needed him to implement.

For a crazy moment, he considered asking her to run away with him. Leave all this behind. Let the bad guys win this round. The FBI could hunt down Markov later.

At least they would be free.

He had enough money to support them both. It wasn’t a completely unrealistic fantasy.

Except, he knew she wouldn’t go for it. No way. Not Thorn.

She was too principled, too committed. Too proud to rely on him, no matter what he made her feel. He might have forced her to admit she had feelings for him, but she wasn’t about to give up her job, her independence, and her livelihood to follow him into the sunset.

Without this crypto update, he was just a common criminal.

The FBI would come after him for his past sins. They’d only agreed to wipe his record clean on the understanding that he’d help them bring down a whole bunch of bad guys, including the most notorious arms dealer in America.

That deal still stood.

He sighed, then glanced at Thorn, who was absorbing the sights and sounds of the plaza, a peaceful look on her face that he hadn’t seen before.

Maybe all they were going to get were snippets of calm, in which case, he was determined to enjoy it before it was gone again, and real life intruded.

The restaurant Clara had suggested was a simple, rustic taverna tucked away in a narrow alley on the far side of the plaza. The wooden door, set back in an alcove, was easy to miss during the day when shadows obscured the decorative tile bearing the restaurant's name.

“After you,” Damian said, holding the door open.

Thorn stepped inside and uttered a soft, “Wow.”

Damian looked around. The cozy taverna was already half full. Diners were laughing and drinking, while music played softly in the background. The smell of garlic filled the air, but it wasn’t overwhelming thanks to the open patio door on the far side that led out to a pretty courtyard bursting with pink bougainvillea.

“Buena noches.” The maître d' came over to greet them.

Damian asked for their table.

At Thorn’s quizzical look, he said, “I made a reservation, but don’t worry, I didn’t give my real name.”

“You’ve thought of everything.” She shot him a sly look.

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