Page 10 of Secrets in the Dark

Who was he talking to? And what "connection" had he noted?

"Understood. I'll maintain position until further instructions."

Maintain position? Instructions? The phrasing struck me as odd for a casino dealer.

I was about to retreat when my elbow knocked against a metal prop, sending it clattering to the floor. The conversation abruptly ceased.

"Hello?" Roman called. "Someone there?"

I considered fleeing but knew it would only make me look suspicious. Instead, I stepped around the metal rack, forcing a casual smile.

"Sorry. Just looking for a quiet spot to review cues."

Roman stood alone, phone nowhere in sight, his expression shifting from wariness to recognition. "Nova. Didn't expect anyone down here."

"Clearly." I aimed for lightness. "Secret gambling tips? Or just avoiding the chaos upstairs?"

Something unreadable flickered across his face. "Just checking in with an old friend. Reception's better down here for some reason."

He was lying.

I'd spent three years working with attorneys, learning to spot the subtle tells that betrayed deception—the fractional pause before answering, the too-smooth explanation, the controlled stillness.

What was Roman King hiding?

We stood in charged silence, each assessing the other. In the dim backstage lighting, his features seemed sharper, more dangerous. The casino dealer's polished charm had receded, revealing something harder beneath. Something that matched the alertness in his eyes.

"Your rehearsal looked good," he said finally, taking a step closer. "I caught the finale from the sound booth."

"Spying on the competition?" I aimed for teasing, but anxiety sharpened the words.

"Appreciating the artistry." Another step closer, erasing the professional distance between us. "Though I'd hardly call myself competition. Just a dealer passing time between shifts."

"Just a dealer," I echoed, not believing it for a second. There was too much calculation in those amber eyes. Too much power in the way he moved. "And I'm just an assistant."

His mouth curved into a knowing half-smile. "We all have our roles, don't we?"

My pulse jumped. Did he know? Had my disguise somehow failed?

Before I could respond, he reached toward me. I tensed, but his fingers merely brushed a feather from my shoulder, the touch whisper-light yet electric. His hand lingered near my collarbone, not quite touching but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

"Midnight blue," he murmured. "It suits you."

The same words from the note.My breath caught.

Could Roman be my stalker? The timing of his appearance at the Jade Petal, his admitted presence at my rehearsal, his cryptic conversation...

Yet something didn't fit. The notes had started weeks before I'd ever set foot in the casino. Before I'd become Nova.

His gaze dropped to my lips, and rational thought faltered. Despite my suspicions, despite my fear, my body responded to his proximity with embarrassing immediacy. Heat bloomed across my skin. My lips parted involuntarily.

He leaned closer, the space between us charged with dangerous possibility.

"You're not what you appear to be," he said softly. "Are you, Nova?"

"Neither are you," I whispered back.

For a suspended moment, the secrets between us seemed to vibrate in the narrow space separating our bodies. His eyes darkened, and I knew with startling certainty that he was going to kiss me. Knew equally that I would let him, despite every instinct warning against it.

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