Page 75 of The Perfect Stranger

I grazed my fingers over her cheek, and she leaned into my touch.

“You’re becoming vulnerable, cariña.”

“You make me this way.”

I leaned forward, lips grazing hers, teasing.

“I told you not to.”

“Then stop—”

I cut her off, crushing my lips to hers. She moaned into my mouth, knees weakening. My body pressed against Nina’s, feeling her curves and preventing her from falling. A knock on the door surprised us both and instinctively I reached for my Glock.

“Go to the bathroom,” I ordered, low and stern and she quickly obliged. “Who is it?” I called, with a hand on the door handle, my gun positioned.

“Room service,” replied the muffled voice.

Nina’s eyes were wide, panicked, as I opened the door slightly. I had to catch myself, refrain from reacting to the man who stood in front of me. He was dressed in a neatly pressed hotel uniform, holding an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The giveaway was the sugar skull tattoos covering his hands and knuckles and the wicked gleam in his eyes.

Los Santos.

“We didn’t order room service.”

“Compliments of the house. Would you like me to come in and pour you a glass?”

Doubtful.

“I’ll take it from here.”

“Very well.” He passed me the ice bucket while slipping a small vial and note into my hand.

He walked backward down the hall, a sinister smile plastered over his smug face.

Closing the door and latching the chain, I placed the ice bucket on the table and pocketed the note and vial.

“What did it say?” Nina asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“With compliments. Rubbish,” I responded, my back to her.

“Why would they send it to us?”

This time I turned. “I don’t know.”

“Do they know we’re here?”

Her eyes were terrified.

“No,” I lied.

“How can you be sure?”

“I’m not.”

It was time. There had to be another way. If I told her about my affiliation with Los Santos cartel, perhaps she would agree to help as part of an investigation to bring them down.

I smiled at her beautiful face wishing we had met in a different time, under better circumstances.

“Are you teasing me?” she asked, faking indignation.

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