Page 35 of A Game of Deception
He walked me to my bedroom door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “For what it’s worth...” he said, his voice unusually serious, “I’ve got your back. Always.”
“I know,” I said, the words inadequate but sincere. “Thanks.”
He nodded once, then turned and headed down the hall to his own room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I stripped off my clothes and fell into bed, every muscle aching with tension. The ceiling fan whirred softly overhead, stirring the cool air-conditioned breeze across my bare chest. I closed my eyes, but all I could see was Tara’s face—first soft with desire, then hard with rejection.
I’d been so sure I wasn’t imagining the connection between us. The electricity that crackled whenever we were in the same room. The way her breath caught when I said her name. The heat in her eyes when she’d worked on my shoulder in the therapy room.
Had I manufactured all of it? Projected my own twisted obsession onto her professional detachment?
No. She’d kissed me back. For that one perfect moment, she’d wanted me as much as I wanted her.
Fuck it. Whatever happens tomorrow, the kiss was worth it.
A knockon my bedroom door jolted me awake. I blinked in the darkness, disoriented. The digital clock on the nightstand read 2:37 AM. I’d been asleep for less than an hour.
The knock came again, more insistent this time. I switched on the bedside lamp and swung my legs over the side of the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before crossing to the door.
Leo stood in the hallway, looking uncomfortable. His hair was mussed, like he’d been sleeping too. “You, uh... you have a visitor.”
I frowned, still foggy with sleep. “What? Who?”
Leo stepped aside, gesturing toward the living room. “See for yourself.”
I pushed past him, confused and wary. The penthouse was dark except for a single lamp in the living room, casting long shadows across the polished floor. And there, silhouetted against the Miami skyline, stood Tara.
She was still wearing the red dress from the club, though her hair was looser now, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She turned as I entered the room, and the breath caught in my throat. Her eyes were wild, her expression a storm of emotions I couldn’t decipher.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice rough with sleep and surprise.
She didn’t answer immediately, her gaze traveling slowly down my bare chest before returning to my face. The intensity in those dark eyes made my skin prickle with awareness.
“I’ll, uh... I’ll give you two some privacy,” Leo muttered, retreating down the hallway. I heard his bedroom door close with a soft click.
Tara took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between us with deliberate grace. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“No,” I agreed, not moving. “You shouldn’t.”
“This is a mistake.”
“Probably.”
We stared at each other, the air between us charged with the same electricity I’d felt at the club, and in every moment we’d been alone together since I’d arrived in Miami.
“How did you know where I was staying?” I asked, breaking the tense silence.
She laughed, a soft, breathless sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “I’ve been running past this building every morning.”
“I knew it was you,” I said, the pieces clicking into place. The figure on the beach that morning, the one I’d dismissed as paranoia. “I saw you. I thought I was losing my mind.”
“You’re not,” she said, taking another step closer. We were almost touching now, close enough that I could smell her perfume. “Not about that, anyway.”
I reached for her, unable to resist any longer. My hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her lower lip. She inhaled sharply but didn’t pull away.
“What about the slap?” I asked, my voice low. “What about ‘you’re a player, I’m your doctor’?”
“I panicked,” she admitted, leaning slightly into my touch. “Everyone was watching. My staff, the team... I have a reputation to maintain. A position to protect.”
