Page 45 of Our Lips Are Sealed
That was all it took to have her running to him. They crashed together, with him holding her tightly to his chest.
“Dammit, Evangeline, I am not the one you run from,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m the one you’re meant to run to.”
She buried her face in his shirt. “I know.”
Throngs of people hurried around them, annoyed when they wouldn’t move out of the way. “This place stinks,” Samuel grumbled after a minute or two went by. “Can we please go?”
Lifting on her toes, she sought his mouth, drawing whistles and shouts of approval from the passing crowd. Samuel cupped her cheek with his hand, raking his tongue over hers when she opened for him.
Since getting in the car with Jamison, she’d been a jittery ball of nervousness, determined to suffer through it silently. But here with Samuel, the tightness in her chest eased, and a sense of peace settled within Evie.
The kiss ended, and she rested her chin on his chest, gazing up at his smirking face.
“Do you love me?”
The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it, and Evie let him go, taking a step back. She didn’t get far, bumping into a couple who had been walking by and heard the question too. They paused in their progression down the street to listen.
Samuel scowled at the intrusion, dividing his focus between the couple and her. “Are you kidding?”
“Women don’t ask those types of questions as a joke,” the man teetering next to him stated, evidently intoxicated from whatever was in their huge green drinks that readHand Grenadeon the side. “So, let’s have it. Yes or no?”
Evie shooed them off with a goodnight before Samuel said something that would get them into trouble.
“How about we go inside for a drink?” she asked, prepared to do just about anything to avoid discussing what had just happened. “The Maison is the place where my parents met.”
Samuel didn’t move, staring down at her for a long minute. “We need to talk.”
“We can talk later. Let’s go enjoy ourselves.”
“No.”
He stalked past the Maison’s entrance, dragging her with him. Evie dug her heels in, forcing him to stop, and had to shout to be heard over the band playing. “Wait, we can’t just leave Jamison. She’s already had a few drinks.”
“Cohen will take care of her,” he said. “And don’t worry. I made him promise not to touch her.”
Evie grinned. “She won’t be happy about that.”
“It’s my form of punishment for the two of them,” he said smugly. “I told him to take her to dinner and then back to the hotel.”
“Well, where are we going?”
“I need to answer your question, but I’m sure as hell not about to do it on some random street in New Orleans where everything smells like piss and bad intentions.” Samuel yanked her to him, eliciting a gasp from her lips. “And we’re going to need privacy for this conversation.”
Leaning down, he nipped at her earlobe. “Hours and hours of privacy.”
Chapter 11
ThesuiteSamuelhadreserved was twice the size of the one Jamison booked and decorated in cool greens with etoile touches. “This is nice,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Are we in the penthouse?”
Samuel cringed at the over-the-top curtains. “It’s called the Hemingway Suite.”
“I like it.”
Evie stuck her head in the bathroom, admiring the garden tub. The wall next to it was made of reflective glass and if Samuel weren’t so tall, she would drag him into it later to take advantage of the view.
“Did you bring any clothes?” She returned to the bedroom where he waited. “Or a toothbrush?”
“I didn’t exactly stop and pack.” His soft smile made her heart skip. “All I could focus on was getting to you.”
