Page 34 of Dangerous Rhythm

“You like the nerdy type?” he glanced at her.

“It’s not the outside that matters.” She drank her fizzy water.

“What does? To you.” If she didn’t like the straightforward musician, then he was curious to know what got under her skin.

“Character. Heart. Principles.”

“Elaborate, please.”

Lina laughed lightly. “I’m not discussing this with you.”

“I thought we’re supposed to play a couple on vacation. I need to be the man you deem worthy of sharing your night with.”

“You don’t have to pretend to be anyone but yourself.”

His brows shot up at that answer.

Does she mean what I think she means?

Curtis knew he was probably trying too hard to read between the lines. He’d been very good at restraining himself from looking at Lina as more than the person who was keeping him alive. For his family and his own sake, he could keep it in his pants. He could stop needing to make her laugh or wanting to kiss those lips again.

He’d tried his best to keep distance between them, though it proved difficult as they shared small quarters, knowing she was sleeping just a few feet away. It was damn hard now to keep his promise to not flirt or steal a touch when they were bathed in the intimate glow of candles and soft music.

Lina leaned toward him, put her elbow on the table and her hand by the side of her face. She whispered, “Come closer.”

Excited by her request, Curtis mirrored her movement. With his face only two inches away from hers, he asked, “Yes?”

She closed the distance and made him suck his breath in anticipation. His eyes closed as he breathed in her no-nonsense fresh scent. There was no overwhelming perfume, just a clean smell of soap, skin, and the wintry night.

But the kiss he’d hoped for didn’t come. Instead, he felt her cheek brush his, and her lips whispered into his ear, “Laugh. Pretend I’m whispering something funny.”

Curtis’ eyes blinked open with disappointment, but he did as instructed and chuckled. He brought his hand up to her nape and let her silky hair fall between his fingers, keeping her close.

A shiver ran through her skin at his touch, and he could hear her barely audible sharp intake of breath. It injected hope back into him.

With a smile, he said in her ear, “What’s going on?”

“A lurker, eyeing us,” she replied, then said something in a Chinese dialect, a little louder, followed by a laugh. He wasn’tsure if it was Mandarin. Then she pulled back slightly, a smile still on her mouth, but her eyes were watchful over his left shoulder.

“They turned away. They might’ve recognized you,” she said, her eyes on his face. “Even with the glasses and a different hairstyle, you’re still you.”

Curtis’s lips curved. “Who am I?”

She blinked as if she didn’t expect to explain herself. “Um…a famous rock star. Though you don’t quite fit the stereotypical rock star look, you still carry yourself a certain way only a rock star can.”

His brows rose in question at that statement. “What’s a rock star supposed to look like?”

“I don’t know. Maybe more like Brandon, with the tattoos and messy hair,” she continued. “You’re pretty clean-cut for a musician. No tattoos that I’ve seen.”

This time, he laughed. “You should’ve seen us when we were younger. I had Brandon draw on my skin. But when we were old enough to get actual tattoos, he got his first one—the one on his right biceps. I chickened out.” He shuddered. “Those needles.”

“Not a lot of men would admit they’re afraid of needles,” she pointed out.

“Not all needles. But being pierced endlessly by a needle, yeah, no thanks.”

Lina checked behind him once again before she relaxed and sat back. “They left. They probably think we’re just a couple of Chinese tourists.”

“What did you say earlier?” he asked. “That wasn’t Mandarin, was it?”

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