Page 21 of Devious Madness

“Where are we?” I ask when I notice the size of the hotel.

It’s not some motel on the side of the highway. This place is a large hotel with an optional valet.

He bypasses the valet and self-parks in the first spot he finds. After he cuts the engine, he turns to me. He frowns when his eyes graze the bandage on my forehead.

“Don’t cause any trouble here, Mira.” He cups my chin, careful of the bruise Brad gifted me. “I mean it. Any problems and you’re going to be sorry.”

“I’ve been sorry since the first moment I saw you sitting at the Dive Bar,” I say. “How much more sorry can I be?”

He grins. It’s a cockeyed thing and sexy as hell.

“Trust me, you can be a lot sorrier.” He gives a pointed look at the belt still laying across his thigh.

I tug out of his hand and pop open the door.

“Whatever. I’m tired. As long as I can sleep, I don’t care.”

He’s out of the car faster than I can get down from my seat. His door slams then another opens and shuts. By the time I’m halfway to the hotel doors, he’s with me again, bags in one hand. He grabs my right hand with his left, pulling me into him.

“I’m not going anywhere, and you don’t need to hold onto me like some pet.” I try to get out of his grip, but he only tightens it.

“Hmm, a pet? I like that.”

I roll my eyes with a scoff. But my insides like that, too.

Damn, my panties are getting wet again.

He nods to the valet as we pass and walk up the well-lit stone steps. Another staff member wearing a red quilted vestover a long-sleeved, black, button-down opens the glass doors for us to walk through into the lobby.

“I need to pee again.”

He looks down at me with an arched brow.

“It’s just there.” I point the sign that reads Restrooms. His gaze roams back to the bandage.

“Fine. Two minutes. If you’re not back by then, I’m coming in.”

“You have a thing for watching women pee?” I can’t help but poke at him, especially when the woman at the front desk has already spotted us and is watching.

“Two minutes.” He lets go of my hand and heads for the desk while I duck into the restroom.

I avoid the mirrors all together and head for the first stall. My head aches, and my chin throbs; I don’t need to look to see what a mess I am.

“Mira. Let’s go.” Rurik’s voice echoes in the room as I’m washing my hands.

“Are you kidding me?” I mutter to myself as I reach for the paper towels neatly stacked in the sleek silver paper-towel holder.

Rurik stands just outside the door holding my backpack and a black leather duffel that I assume is his.

“Ready?”

“No. But do I have a choice?”

“Not really. No.” He shifts the bags to one hand and laces his other through mine. “The elevators are this way.”

As we walk past the front desk, the woman who checked him in has her eye on him. I’ve seen the look before. She’sdoing everything she can to keep the drool from escaping her lips.

“Sir!” She suddenly lifts her hand and waves us down. Rurik comes to a stop just as we reach the elevators.

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