Page 98 of Restless Hawke
That word has never meant much to me.
It couldn’t when it was so hard to find it after Mom died.
And I don’t know if I can trust Coen Hawke.
His family seems quite adept at lying, at putting on a façade. His father is a big-shot trial lawyer, and so is his brother. And given what Coen has told me and what I’ve observed, I have no doubt that Coen is capable of everything they are.
All the tricks that help them convince juries in a courtroom and get the upper hand against opponents anywhere else.
Yet staring across the table from him, I have a hard time believing he’s lying now. Not when the sincerity in his gaze radiates across the table and the hope there matches my own.
The waiter appears with two plates, sets one down in front of him and one in my spot.
Before I even have a chance to say anything else, Bishop appears. “I told you I’d be back when the food came.”
Coen and I hold each other’s gaze across the table for a few seconds, long enough to make sitting here in Bishop’s seat with her standing beside us awkward.
There’s more to say.
So much more.
I slowly push the chair back and smile at Bishop. “Enjoy your dinner.”
She offers me a sympathetic look as she takes her seat, pulling her napkin back into her lap.
Before I can walk away, Coen climbs to his feet and closes the few steps to me. The warm, spicy bourbon on his breath and that crisp, masculine scent that seems to cling to him settle over me.
I inhale greedily, in case it’s the last time I get the opportunity.
He dips his head against my cheek, feathering his lips over my ear, and tugs me against him, slipping a key card into my hand. “Venetian—Presidential Suite.”
I shiver at the invitation and promise in his words and close my grip around the card, terrified he might realize his mistake and take it back.
His hand tightens around mine, and he brushes his thumb across my fingers, raising goosebumps across my skin. “I would very much like for you to be there when I get done with dinner.” He pulls back until his gaze meets mine. “We’ll finish this conversation. No games this time.”
If only it were that easy.
I nod and slip from his hold, forcing myself to walk away from them and not look back because if I do, one of them might see the tears streaming down my face now.
14
COEN
Inever thought a dinner at my favorite restaurant could be agonizing, but every minute that passed, every bite I took, every word of small talk Bishop tried to make, the more I stopped craving the delicious food I was eating, and instead wished for it to be over, so it could benow. So I could be standing here, in the threshold of my suite, staring at Allegra.
She sits on the couch, waiting for me, just like I knew she would be.
Or at least,hoped.
There was always a chance she would run again.
Maybe that’s why my knee kept bouncing and my hand kept tapping on the tabletop. Maybe that’s why my heart felt like it was trapped in a vise the entire time I sat there with Bishop.
Because I wasn’t one hundred percent sure shewouldbe here.
And now that I’ve finally laid eyes on her, I can’t drag them away even if I tried.
Christ, she’s beautiful.
