Page 44 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
Ghost shifts slightly, his thigh pressing against mine in the cramped booth. The contact sends a jolt through me, and my body instantly registers how close we are.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice low.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "Yeah, I think so. That was... intense."
A smirk flickers across his face. "Welcome to my world, little hellcat."
I narrow my eyes at him. "I have a name, you know. And I'm handling myself just fine."
His smirk deepens as he leans slightly closer. "Are you? Because from where I'm sitting, you'd be begging for mercy without me."
His voice drops lower, eyes flickering to my lips. "And I bet you'd beg so pretty."
Heat rushes to my face, the double meaning unmistakable. "You wish."
Ghost's eyes darken slightly, but there's a hint of appreciation in them. "Careful what you wish for, Alina."
I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus. "So what's the plan now? We can't exactly hide out in a dim sum restaurant forever."
Ghost's eyes scan the room as he speaks. "We wait. Let things calm down outside. My team will regroup and contact us when it's safe to move."
Our fingers connect as he grabs for a napkin, sending sparks through my body and heat rushing to my face.
Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and I see something flicker in those deep blue depths—concern, maybe even a hint of... hunger?
Stop it. This is not the time to get distracted by a pair of pretty eyes, considering how deadly their owner might be.
I force myself to look away, my gaze settling on the bustling restaurant around us. But I can't shake the awareness of Ghost's solid presence beside me, or the way my skin tingles where we touch.
The waiter sets down our steaming cups and teapot and I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic, grateful for something to concentrate on, but Ghost's eyes never stop moving.
A barely perceptible twitch of his jaw catches my attention. His hand moves subtly to his ear, he's receiving information through his comm device. My heart rate picks up as I remember the danger we're still in.
Ghost leans in close, his lips barely moving as he whispers, "Nitro says they're closing in. Two minutes, maybe less."
I nod, trying to keep my face neutral.
Don't panic. Act normal.
I take a sip of tea, wincing as the scalding liquid burns my tongue.
Ghost's knee bumps mine under the table—once, twice. A deliberate signal. I remember the brief operational protocol he explained during our rush to leave the safehouse. Two taps mean 'be ready to move.'
"So, tell me about your favorite dim sum dish." I keep my voice light.
Ghost's eyebrow quirks slightly, but he plays along. "Har gow. Shrimp dumplings. You?"
"I'm partial to char siu bao myself." My eyes dart to the entrance, then back to Ghost. His slight nod tells me he approves of my subtle scan.
His fingers drum a quick pattern on the table. Three taps.Danger imminent.
I force a laugh, as if he's just told a joke. "You know, I've always wondered about the history of dim sum. It's fascinating how—"
Ghost's hand suddenly grips my arm, cutting me off. His eyes lock onto something over my shoulder. I resist the urge to turn and look.
"Alina, when I say 'now,' I need you to–"
A crash from the kitchen interrupts him. Shouts erupt, followed by the unmistakable sound of gunfire.
