Page 52 of Kissing Danger

Not once growing up had I ever wondered if I would live to see the next day.

So, maybe Nathan had introduced me to a more nonchalant attitude toward violence. Or maybe I’d always been this way and I’d just never been pushed far enough to know this side of myself.

I spent so long staring daggers at Caprice and wishing to spontaneously develop pyrokinesis and set her on fire with my mind, that I forgot everything else in the room. Even my kidnapper was secondary in my thoughts.

Eventually, the room’s other occupant grew tired of waiting for me to notice them and not so subtly cleared their throat.

I finally looked away from Caprice and found myself gazing into very familiar eyes.

“Nathan?”

No, wait. The eyes were the same, but the rest of the face was wrong.

What was going on?

CHAPTER 17

Nathan

Almost the momentI stepped back into the ballroom, D’Angelo was right there to greet me with a knowing smile on his face.

“You were in the bathroom a long time. Should I avoid the hors d’oeuvres?”

I grabbed a glass off a nearby serving tray, not even looking at what it held. “Don’t look so smug. I know the kinds of things you get up to. A hotel bathroom is practically classy in comparison.”

D’Angelo grabbed the glass out of my hand. “Don’t drink the red. I don’t know what vintage the hotel claims it is, but they’re lying. I’ve had boxed wine that’s better quality.”

I no longer held a drink, but my hand wasn’t empty. It held a small, folded piece of paper and an even smaller box, no bigger than a coin. Since D’Angelo had gone to such lengths to hand these things to me secretly, I didn’t ask him about them. Just raised one eyebrow in a silent question.

“You know,” he said causally as he set the untouched glass of red wine on a random side table. “I’ve been meaning to ask… Where did you find that Vicuna fabric? It’s so hard to locate places that produce it.”

The paper and box were both so small, yet as I realized what D’Angelo was hinting at, they seemed to suddenly weigh a hundred kilograms.

Or two hundred and twenty pounds, based on American measurements.

I’d asked D’Angelo to figure out which labs were capable of producing the pyrenic that had been used to poison the Vicuna fabric I’d gifted to Deacon. This wasn’t something we should be talking about in public where anyone could hear us. For D’Angelo to go through the risk of bringing me this list now, rather than waiting until we were secure in my office, then there must be something on the list I needed to see right away.

I pulled out my phone, holding it in the same hand as the paper.

“I know a guy who deals in rare textiles. I’ll give you his number.”

As I pretended to type out a text to D’Angelo, I snuck a look at the paper. It held a list of only five labs. Two of them belonged to D’Angelo, just as he’d said, and two of them belonged to people I was certain wouldn’t work with Caprice under any circumstances.

The fifth lab on the list, however, was a surprise.

As soon as I saw it, I knew why D’Angelo had brought it to me right away.

D’Angelo pretended to check his phone, as if I had really texted him, while passing me a small nod.

“Thanks. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to head out. I love parties, but I know nothing about fashion. This isn’t really my scene.”

He departed almost as abruptly as he’d appeared, leaving me to deal with the new crisis he’d dumped on me.

I almost wanted to hate him for bringing this to my attention, but I couldn’t. It was something I needed to know.

After he left, I checked the contents of the small box. The latch was so miniscule, I could barely wedge my fingernail under it to pry it open. Inside, the box held a single red pill. I’d seen it only once before, and was surprised D’Angelo was able to procure it for me so quickly.

Based on the way the night was going, I was going to need the pill sooner than expected.

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