Page 14 of Till Death Do Us Part

My watch lit up with a text message.

Hayden Burton:Are you coming back soon?

Turning a fraction, I checked the building. Hayden Burton was the director of the museum. He'd been sending me emails along the same lines. I'd taken some time off because of the attack, but I was ready to get back to work. I had a degree in paleontology at only twenty-three. I’d started college at sixteen, dually enrolling while in high school, and dedicated myself to my passion. I loved my job. I missed it.

I raised my watch to respond with speech to text, letting him know I’d be back on Monday, but a Range Rover with tinted windows pulled up to the curb in front of me. I put my wrist down and made a mental note to respond to Hayden later. Felice had stepped out of the car and was making his way toward me.

A strong gust of wind made his long coat flutter. It made my heart do the same thing. Darkness had cloaked him last night. Daylight, no matter how dreary, brought him to life, and all those gorgeous features couldn’t be hidden.

His hair was slicked back, every strand landing in the perfect spot, and his jaw was covered in dark stubble. His clothes, a suit underneath a designer coat, were impeccable. The way his cologne hung in the air made me think he’d stepped out of a warm shower not long ago.

He walked with confident swagger around the car and onto the sidewalk.

His eyes met mine before he leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Roma,” he whispered as he pulled back.

“Felice,” I managed to get out.

Maybe he liked the way I’d said his name. His eyes lowered and heated for a second before he took my hand and led me into the street. He opened the driver's side door for me.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“You're going to drive me.”

Before I could protest, he picked me up and sat me in the driver's seat, shutting the door after. The interior of the car smelled like cold air, fresh coffee, and him. It made my head swim for a second.

He slipped in on the passenger side and shut the door. He fixed his suit, then told me to put my seat belt on. He did the same.

“I always wear my seat belt,” I said, strapping in.

“Bene.” He nodded to two cups of coffee from Caffè Bar sitting side by side in the holder. “One for you.”

“Grazie.” I refused to go, though. He wanted me to drive him. Why? Only one way to find out. I asked him.

“Just drive.” He nodded toward the road, picking up his cup and taking a sip.

“I have no clue where we're going.”

“That way.” He nodded ahead.

Smart ass.

I hit the gas and pulled into traffic. At the same time, Felice grabbed for theoh-shithandle above the door. Someone laid on the horn, whipping around me when I did. I gave them a little wave. They might have given me a rude hand gesture, but I refused to take my eyes off the road.

“My car is much smaller,” I said as way of an explanation. My gas pedal was more reactive to my foot. It seemed like I had to apply more pressure to this one to get going.

Felice said nothing until he started giving me directions when he needed to. When he directed me to turn at the last second, his grip on the overhead bar turned white.

“You can't tell me at the last second,” I said.

“Three blocks away. Don’t consider that last second.”

“That wasn’t three blocks.”

I felt his eyes on the side of my face, and I was positive if I would have met them, he would have challenged me with a look. Instead, I pretended to concentrate on driving.

A few blocks away, I noticed a group outside of Victory Gardens Theater. Everyone was bundled up, facing a woman who talked while she gestured around.

“I wonder what’s going on there?” I chucked my chin toward the scene and slowed down.

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