Page 38 of Slick

“Of course, sir. And please apologize to the governor on behalf of the hotel.”

I leave them bowing and scraping, giving Moore a dirty look as I slide in beside him. “Thanks for backing my play.”

He doesn’t blink at my sarcasm. “Find out anything interesting?”

“My guess is they came by cab or on foot, but I’m getting the video sent to your office.” He nods, but I turn so quickly, he only gets his hands halfway up before I pin them against his chest. I grind my elbows in a little, just to really make a point. “When were you gonna tell me the little pornstar is in heat?”

“What?” He tries to shove me off, but I lean all my weight on him, and he finally gives an exasperated sigh. “Can you please get acquainted with body wash the next time you decide to accost me in an enclosed space?”

I’d smirk if I wasn’t so pissed. I smell like an alpha’s supposed to, which isn’t hair gel and dry-cleaning fluid. But instead of pointing out his shortcomings, I shove him aside, buzzing down the window and whistling for the little security guard. He scuttles over, bobbing his head at Moore, and I snap my fingers to get his attention. “You got heat suites in this place?”

“N-no, we don’t,” he stutters, sounding even more apologetic. “But there are other hotels nearby that do.”

“What’s the closest one?”

He glances behind him, like his gutless partner might suddenly materialize with a tourist brochure. “I’d have to check, but I think the Clarence does.”

“Send me a list in five minutes and I won’t come back and kick your ass.”

When we leave the parking garage, I direct the driver to the Clarence Hotel, while Moore glowers at me from the corner. “I didn’t know,” he says quietly. “He smelled sweet, but I was… confused. I could smell Lily on the jumpsuit…”

He breaks off as I give him a death glare, and we lapse into a seething silence. The urge to shake him is always there, bubbling away under the surface, which is why I had to put a lot of distance between us after our last fight. I’ve spent my life protecting his ass, so it would be kind of hypocritical to try to kick some fucking sense into his thick head.

When he pulls out his phone to read a message, I feel my lip curl into a sneer. “That Her Lowness checking in?”

He bristles, but swallows down a sharp retort as he slides his phone back into his pocket. “No. She’s giving me the silent treatment.”

I laugh, although the sound is so bitter it burns my throat. “Trouble in hell, Governor?”

“Marcus – her security guy – said she took a tumble at work. Not enough to go to hospital over, but she’s asked me to give her a couple of days to heal…What?”

“Just wondering when the sharp-as-shit guy I grew up with started believing in fairy tales.”

“Fuck off, Kane.”

We lapse back into a hostile silence, both of us watching our phones like hawks. When we reach the Clarence, I leave him in the undercover garage again and take a quick tour of its facilities. It’s a small, boutique hotel, so the quivering desk clerk personally walks me though their two empty heat suites. When Imake it back to the car, the rent-a-cop from the Richardson has sent me through the names of the other hotels, and I flash the list at Moore. “Any ideas?”

“The Aviary,” he says, sounding more confident than he has since our reunion. “It’s the best in the city, and I’m pretty sure Rowan Vale did a magazine spread for them last year.”

I leer at him. “Been checking out omega porn, Governor?”

“Not that kind of spread. Jesus, Kane, can you dial back the barbarian for just a minute?”

Once upon a time, Moore liked my brutal streak, but I guess those days are in our rearview mirror. “Not if it means wearing shit suits and eating tasteless pussy every day.”

He’s not stupid enough to lunge for me, but he gives me the cold shoulder until we reach the Aviary. Instead of waiting in the car, he climbs out, murmuring something to his driver, but his head snaps up as I stride straight over to an SUV. I run a hand over the cool metal, peeing through the tinted window at a heavy tarp in the back. “Run this plate, Jake.”

He doesn’t comment on the name slip, taking out his phone and dialing a number. When it connects, he explains what he needs, and a moment after feeding them the plate, he gives me a sharp nod. “It’s licensed to Kennedy Vale.”

“Then we’re in the right place.” I follow my nose across the garage to a service entrance, but as I hit the button for the elevator, Moore grabs my arm. “You can’t go storming into a heat suite.” I beg to differ, but he starts tapping something into his phone. “We’ll call her. Tell her we’re waiting to speak to her in the lobby bar. She’ll either hole up, try to run, or come down to sort things out.”

“If she runs?”

“Lukas has called my security guys. They’ll cover the exits.”

I sneer. “I hope that’s the backup to your back-up plan.”

He lifts a judgy brow at me. “I wouldn’t have to resort to Plan B if you had cared enough to stick around.”

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