Page 6 of The Hunted
They had managed to get close again, barely any space left between them, and he found it worrisome that his pulse spiked when she put her hand on his chest. “As far as pick-up lines go, that wasn’t half bad. It could use some work, though.” She winked at him. “But I really do need to go, can’t function without my caffeine.” She waved at him and turned to walk away, moving faster this time than she had before.
Santino cursed under his breath when he had to take an additional step to reach her. He grabbed both of her arms, pulling her back to his chest. A low hum built in his stomach. It was the same one he had when he went out to hunt. The thrill of watching his next victim, knowing their days were numbered and he was the one who would bring about their end, was here now, and it explained why his body was reacting to her—but it also posed more questions than answers.
She wasn’t on his list.
At least, not yet.
And nothing about her made him want to hunt her.
“My wallet, princess.” He leaned in, bringing his lips to her ear. Every breath he took pulled her into his system. He couldn’t place the smell of perfume she wore—there were too many smells on the semi-busy sidewalk for him to completely pull hers apart. But he had to fight the urge to bury his nose into her neck to figure it out.
“You asked my name and still don’t use it. I don’t have your wallet.” Her voice was breathless, proof that he wasn’t the only one affected by whatever this was.
I can’t even name it if I wanted to.
“Is that an invitation to search you?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
He knew how to flirt. He knew how to play his role with women when needed, but it was always forced, a mirror of what the other person wanted him to be so he could get the desired results and look like an active member of society. But with Silva, this felt as natural as breathing.
“You have to buy me coffee first.” He could hear the amusement in her voice. He laughed, letting her go, only to grab her wrist and pull her toward the café.
“As you wish, princess.” He tugged her forward. When he went out tonight for his next victim, he would take the time to go over his reaction to Silva. He needed to clear his head, and he wouldn’t be able to do that in her presence.
He hoped this excitement she enticed in him was genuine and something he could use because being with her might give him all the cover he needed.
ChapterThree
Silva stood in line with Santino Alvarez, according to the driver’s license she saw in his wallet, which she reluctantly gave back. He all but dragged her back inside and kept his warm hand around her wrist, as if that would keep her by his side. If she wanted to she could have caused a scene the second they got in line, but he’d called her out on it the moment the thought flashed in her mind.
He was good at reading her, a little too good for her liking.
She couldn’t believe he’d caught her, and she was going to blame it on the fact that she was no longer actively pickpocketing or helping herself to little five-finger discounts.
Honestly, she wasn’t sure why she tried it with him in the first place.
“Stop pouting. Your skills are good, I’m just better.” His deep voice rumbled around her. It skirted along her skin and made her wish he wasn’t still touching her. His grip on her wrist was light, but there was no doubt he felt the maddening pace of her pulse.
She held onto the hint of humor lacing his words, focusing on that instead of the way his presence made her feel.
“You’re not better, you just got lucky,” she grumbled, focusing on the other people in the café. Everyone was either sitting with their friends or working on their laptops. She wanted to bring her own here and try to write for the online portion of the magazine she worked for—an advice column she wasn’t sure she was qualified for, but considering no one sued her yet, she was going to continue to write it.
But she forgot her bag at her apartment, and it was well enough anyway. Had she brought it, the bag would probably be filled with caffeine, and she and Santino Alvarez would have been having a very different conversation.
“How can I help you guys?” the barista called out, and Santino tugged her along.
“I’ll have a large black coffee, your darkest roast, please. She’ll have….” He stopped to pick up his shirt and took a quick inhale. His gaze swung to hers as he continued with the order. “Large, medium roast with two pumps vanilla.” He cocked his head to the side, his gaze sweeping her in one fell swoop. “And a splash of cream.”
He kept his gaze on her and she squirmed. She hated feeling like she was under a microscope. The fact that he got her coffee order right unnerved her. Was his sense of smell that good, or was he just that good at reading people?
He let go of her to pull out his wallet to pay, and because she was still pissed off he had caught her in her attempt to pickpocket, she finally spoke up if for no other reason than to not give him two wins in one day.
It was petty, but she didn’t care. “Actually, it’s one pump vanilla, one pump caramel, and a splash of almond milk, please. Oh, and a medium. A large will just keep me up half the night.”
He chuckled, pulled out his credit card, and tapped the machine. She had to quell the urge to snatch it out of his hands, and when she focused on the sound of his laugh, it made goosebumps break out across her skin. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold air pumping through the café.
He grabbed her wrist again, tugging her along so they were out of the way of the line while they waited for their drinks. The second his warm hand touched her skin again, her stomach tightened and she had to take a deep breath to steady her heartbeat. She didn’t like the way her body reacted to him.
“So, Silva no-last-name, did you purposely change your drink order because you’re mad your pickpocket skills aren’t up to par?”
