Page 93 of The San Marco Heist

“No time for another connection?”

I crawled over to the bedside table and turned off the alarm. “I need to get ready.”

He grabbed me, throwing my flailing body to the bed and pinning me. “We. We need to get ready.”

Those words had sat at the back of my mind since he’d said them. Would he keep me safe? Or put me in danger? Put himself in danger? Was it a romantic gesture or—

“Stop thinking and say yes.” Malcolm tapped my forehead. “If it were Rav saying that to you, I bet you wouldn’t be debating.”

“I am not talking about Rav while I’m naked.” I shoved him off me and rolled from the bed. “I want to grab a quick shower.”

“Perfect!” He shot out of the bed and threw his arms around me. “We can continue this discussion in the shower.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. And maybe I was alright with that.

Someone knocked on the door.

Malcolm held tighter. “Ignore it.”

“It’s probably turndown service or something.” I glanced around the room, at the complete disarray. “Why don’t you get the water started, and I’ll grab an extra towel for you?”

He nipped at my bottom lip, sending a pulse straight to my core. “When you say a quick shower…”

I twisted out of his grip and grabbed a robe from my open suitcase. “Just go.”

With a swat to my ass, he finally did as he was told and headed into the bathroom adjoining the bedroom. The view of his backside was just as phenomenal as his front. And from the tightness between my thighs, it was clear I hadn’t had my fill of him yet.

The knock came again.

“Un momento!” I threw on the robe and tied the belt as I made my way through the sitting room. This tiny space had seen such a swirl of emotions since we arrived this morning. Panic and worry about how the meeting would go with Emmett’s kidnappers. Anger and tears over finding out about Noah. Passion, lust, and tenderness with Malcolm.

Before opening the door, I checked the peephole.

And my stomach dropped.

Noah. With a bouquet of flowers. The lilies I loved so much.

I shot a look over my shoulder.

If Noah was here, instead of waiting for eleven on San Michele, what would he do if he saw another man? He had flowers, dammit. “I just want to talk.”

The water was already running in the shower, but how long would Malcolm wait before coming to get me? Five minutes? Ten?

I undid the safety latch and creaked the door open to whisper, “You said eleven.”

He held the flowers up, their perfume washing over me. “These still your favorite?”

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“So do I, but this isn’t a good time.”

He put a hand on the door and pushed. “You’re coming to the island tonight?”

“I am.” I pushed back, but he was too strong and too insistent.

Noah stepped in, acting like I’d invited him. He nodded slowly, looking around the sitting room. “Shower time, of course. Can’t keep you away from the hot water.”

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