Page 19 of Sinful Negotiations

She didn’t expect him to climb into the passenger’s seat of her car but didn’t question it. “I’ll need your address.”

“Turn right out of the garage.”

What a weird morning, she mused to herself, backing out of her assigned space. After looking left and right, she turned onto the pavement when Aidan shouted, “Tessa!”

Tires squealed as both feet hit the brakes. A black van almost plowed into the front end of her car but swerved at the last minute. “Oh my God,” she gasped, gripping the steering wheel so tight she thought it might break and gulping deep breaths. “I can’t move, Aidan. I’m shaking too bad. I swear I looked both ways.”

Wide eyes lowered when his hand shifted the car into park, but she still couldn’t move. “I believe you.”

Aidan climbed out of the car, strode to her side, and opened the door. He positioned both of his hands over hers. “Let go and let me drive, Tessa. It’s okay. No one was hurt.”

“First someone tries to break into my apartment, the weird calls, a man was apprehended outside my apartment last night, and now this. I’ve seen that van before. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out together. Climb into the other seat.”

Shaking all over, she did as he asked. “I need to leave town, Aidan. You’re in danger because of me.”

“No. Put your seatbelt on.”

Once the belt clicked in place, Aidan drove to his condo but constantly scanned the area. She noticed everything too, but him in particular. He hadn’t seemed shocked when she told him about the apartment incident and remained remarkably cool after thealmostvehicle accident. Things weren’t adding up, and she was an accounting major.

He hurried her to the top floor and practically shoved her inside his condo before sliding the deadbolt in place. “Make yourself at home, but don’t leave. You’re safe here.”

Her gaze flicked everywhere. Not one photo or memento said this place belonged to Aidan Cross. Nothing. Bare walls and sparse furniture occupied the space. She pointed to the room. “You live here?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough,” he grumbled, stomping into the hall off the right of the living area. “I’d like for you to join me in a long nap.”

“Who are you?”

He froze midstride, flexed his shoulders, and rolled his head. “Aidan Cross.”

And disappeared through a doorway on the right.

“Liar,” she whispered, even as she admired his physique and the way he moved.

Chapter 17

Aidan closed the blinds, removed everything except his boxers, and slid into bed. An invitation to join him was extended, but he didn’t know if she’d accept.

Her question caught him off guard, and he wasn’t prepared to tackle that part of his life or reveal it yet. Tessa was a smart woman. He should’ve known she’d become suspicious eventually.

These attacks didn’t make sense unless they wanted to kidnap her for ransom. It was a possibility. The FBI knew Chandler James was in debt up to his neck, but they didn’t know to whom the debt was owed. Now they did, and it worried him.

Marco Dentzi had a reputation for cruelty and would use any means possible to retrieve his money. He’d been on their wanted list for years, but always avoided capture. His ties to the Spanish mafia made him dangerous, but he operated as a loner which in some respects allowed him an edge.

Now, he wanted Tessa. But why? In that world, money was everything. Tessa was another means to obtain it. But how? It made no sense to kidnap her for ransom with the company close to bankruptcy. Marco would know everything about Chandler James, so he obviously knew something they didn’t…yet.

His eyes flicked to the doorway when she entered, but she stopped to lean against the frame. With her back pressed against the wood, and blonde hair spilling around her shoulders, she presented quite the picture. “Tell me the truth or I leave, and you can’t stop me.”

He was on her before the last word left her mouth. This close he could trace every beautiful feature and inhale her light floral scent with each breath. “I can, and I will even if I’m forced to tie you up.”

Her chin lifted under his scrutiny and challenge. “Why does everything always have to be this way?”

“It doesn’t,” he whispered, undoing the top button of her blouse and the next. She didn’t move when he slid one hand beneath the material and flattened his warm palm against her skin. “So exquisite, Tessa. Your skin is like silk.”

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