Page 34 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

She and Sin snorted in unison, and I flipped them both the bird.

“Go ride a camel in hell.”

“Why do you hate camels so much?” Sin asked.

“You know why.” A camel beauty pageant, an arms dealer, and the camelid equivalent of projectile vomiting were involved. “I’m going to pack a bag.”

“Don’t forget to shave your legs,” Tulsa called as I walked out of the kitchen.

The slam of the door echoed through the house behind me.

CHAPTER 12

JEZEBEL

“Ididn’t think you’d come,” Cole said.

“Being honest, neither did I.” But here we were. “I hope you got plenty of sleep last night.”

“Barely any, but I’ll cope.”

He stepped backward and motioned me inside, and I glanced at the wall Valeria’s crew had repaired. They’d matched the paint perfectly, thank fuck, and she’d grudgingly apologised over encrypted text for the cat-poisoning incident. Lesson learned, I hoped.

Cole closed the door, and I stood awkwardly, overnight bag in hand. Hookups I could do. Small talk with a man I barely knew and had nothing in common with? Harder.

I hadn’t spent a full night with a man since Bastian’s death. And Bastian at least had known who I was.WhatI was. When we began dating, I’d thought his line of work was an advantage, but it had turned out to be anything but.

Bastian had been older than me, and a colleague in that we were both working for the DIA, but in different departments. He’d been an analyst; I’d had a more hands-on role. In hindsight, I should have spotted the red flags.Should have realised that a man like him didn’t appreciate being upstaged by a younger girlfriend. Should have understood that he wouldn’t have dated a woman like me without an ulterior motive.

He’d bugged my fucking engagement ring.

I thought we were getting along and building a relationship, and the whole time, he’d only wanted me for my classified information.

“Uh, I was just making dinner. Have you eaten?”

“It’s eleven p.m. Didn’t you eat at work?”

“I ate a package of Peanut Butter Cups at six, then dealt with crisis after crisis until I lost the will to live.”

“Running a casino still sucks?”

“It’s the worst.” He hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me tight against him. “Take my mind off it?”

I stood on tiptoes to kiss him. Or rather on tiptoe, since I could only bend one foot at the moment. He was a nice height, taller than my five-seven but not too tall. He also got bonus points for knowing how to kiss. No gloopy saliva, no weird noises. A year ago, I’d picked up an investment banker—or an investment wanker, as Spider preferred to call them—and he’d slobbered. Fucking slobbered, as if his father were a St. Bernard. I ended up escaping through the bathroom window of his third-floor hotel room, after I’d washed my face, of course.

A shiver ran through me when Cole gripped the back of my neck. Yes, fine, I was mostly a control freak, but I could live with a man who took charge in the bedroom. Shibari was out, but a little light spanking got my blood flowing. That had been another red flag with Bastian. He hadn’t been particularly adventurous. At the time, I’d convinced myself that vanilla was fine, that sacrificing fun for stability in my first real relationship was the right thing to do. Now, I wished I’d cuffed him to the bed and hammered a buttplug the size and shape of the Empire State Building up his traitorous ass.

A grumble from Cole’s stomach stopped things before my lips chapped.

“Go and eat,” I told him.

“I can make extra?”

I’d eaten dinner three hours ago, but a snack wouldn’t hurt, not with the number of calories I planned to burn off tonight. Plus I was curious to see whether Cole could actually cook. Bastian had been more of a takeout man.

“Just a small portion.”

He led me to the kitchen. Other than Tulsa’s cabin near Wichita Falls, Oklahoma, I’d never seen a house with quite so much wood. Sometime in the last century, a small forest had given its life for Uncle Mike’s kitchen, and apart from looking dated, it was still going strong. The floor, the panelled walls, the cabinets, the sturdy table and chairs, all wood, a deep reddish-brown that I thought might be cherry. Cherry or hickory.

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