Page 18 of A Very Rossi Christmas
He bit his lip, his eyes flitting back and forth between my own eyes and my mouth, and I saw something hungry and possessive there. Something I’d never really seen in him before … and something that my heart was responding to.
Then he jerked himself back into reality and registered my question.
“I’m trying to make it look like we’re a couple that’s actually supposed to be together,” he ground out, his voice hoarse and gravelly. “We’ve already almost been caught once, and I’m thinking that anyone who happens upon us is going to get real suspicious real fast if they hear us shouting at each other. It’s a whole lot easier to explain this little meeting if it looks like we’re having a more … specific conversation.”
Right. So he was just kissing me so I didn’t blow his cover.
Of course he was.
I’d been a stupid, stupid girl to think it was anything more than that. Not that Ihadthought there was anything more than that.
I didn’t really care, honestly, if therewasmore than that, because I didn’t want anything withhim.
But hearing that he’d had ulterior motives when he kissed me didn’t exactly make me feel good.
I put my palms on his chest, snarled at him, and shoved with all of my strength, using the wall behind me as leverage. Caught unprepared, he went flying backward and hit the other wall, his face a mask of shock and loss.
Then it turned to anger.
Typical Joseph. Catch him by surprise and he’d immediately decide that you’d done something wrong, and that he had every right to get angry about it.
Only I already knew his tricks, and I wasn’t about to give him the time to turn this on me.Hewas the one who’d been followingme. He was the one who’d showed up in LA without having the courtesy to let me know first, and who had then decided to take a meeting with Donny fucking Patrelli, one of the biggest crooks in the city—and to top it all off, had gotten drunk during the meeting!
He’d basically attacked me with his mouth in this very hallway, just because he didn’t want to blow his cover.
Fuck him.
“Leave me the hell alone, Joseph,” I told him, my voice sharp. “I’m not your job anymore. Not that I ever was.”
I whirled away, intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible, but he caught my hand before I made it very far and jerked me back toward him. I flew right into his chest and felt his arms come up around me, trapping me there, and a moment later, I was back up against the wall with Joseph towering above me.
God damn him for being so much bigger than me. I knew quite a bit of self-defense, but I couldn’t pull any of that off when I was caged by his arms and had his body pressed against mine.
“There’s a guy following you, Sloane, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize that he means trouble. I’m not going to let you get hurt.”
I managed to get enough space to move my legs, and brought the heel of my boot down hard on his foot. He jumped back, cursing, and looked at me like I’d just betrayed his very soul.
Good. He needed to stop thinking I was some helpless little girl who needed protecting.
“My safety or lack thereof isn’t your problem, Joseph. Go back to New York.”
I turned and finally got out of the hallway as quickly as I could, before I could register how much it had hurt to say that—or how much it broke my heart to see the anger and betrayal on his face.
11
SLOANE
DANCING WITH LIONS
Joseph had me pressed against the wall, one hand holding my hands above my head while the other cupped my chin, his fingers pressing into my skin hard enough that they were going to leave a mark.
“What are you doing here?” I gasped, struggling against the hand holding my wrists captive.
“What do you think?” he murmured, his eyes on my mouth. “I’m here for you.”
His electric blue eyes moved slowly from my mouth to my eyes, leaving a trail of fire behind them, and I squirmed harder against his hands—though I wasn’t really trying to get away anymore.
Even if I got away, I couldn’t imagine where I’d go. Not when he’d stolen all of my breath with his last statement.
