Page 6 of Devil's Cage

“I also don’t date guys I can’t get a read on.” Sara began walking faster. She glanced back and I did too. The smoker still had his eyes locked on Sara, then flicked them briefly over to me, and I almost fell over in shock.

I’d only ever seen that kind of sharp prescience in one other person’s eyes: Sara’s.

“Maybe you should,” I said, unnerved to the point that I almost forgot about my sexy stranger.Almost.

Sara rolled her eyes. “Just get in the damn taxi.”

A sweet and melodic Spanish love song crooned through the car’s speakers. We sat in the cab for over twenty minutes, and I swore each song had gotten smuttier than the last. It didn’t help my mental state as I watched the city drift past, lost in the memory of that stranger.

Again and again, I replayed what had happened.

I’d never been so caught up in an encounter and I had never been sotakenby a man before. I had never experienced this heavy awareness of heat and want curling in my chest, causing me to press my thighs together as flashes of daydreams teased licks of fire up my spine.

I imagined how he’d smile down at me, maybe slide his thumb along my jaw before tipping my face up for a kiss. Flexing my fingers, I wondered what it would feel like to have his big hands holding my face or, better yet, on my waist as he dragged me into his embrace. What would it feel like to be held against him?

Why didn’t I say something to him?I almost groaned out loud. We could have danced. I could have found out his name, maybe gotten his number.

God, how could someone be so freakishly hot?

“Lia.” Fingers snapped in front of my nose. “You’re doing it again.”

“Huh?” I blinked over at Sara.

“Spacing out on me,” she said. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“No.” I straightened from where I’d slumped by the window, shaking myself. “Sorry.”

“Did something else happen in that bar?” Sara’s gaze filled with that familiar and shrewd look while I tried not to smile.

Dammit, why did Sara have to be so excellent at reading people? Sometimes, I swore she was psychic. Then again, she had the unfair advantage of having known me since we were two years old.

What could I say, though? There were no words that could possibly explain this insane, sudden attraction or how I felt like I was going out of my mind wondering about that guy. He’d seemed like the best of bad ideas.

If one dared to spend a night with him, it’d be the kind of night one could never forget. With only a glance, I’d felt different, and the world seemed to end at an edge that I’d never noticed before — one that I wanted to go right up to and jump over.

“Fine, whatever, don’t tell me.” Sara rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I was asking you — those cars and all those guys…” She bit her lip,and I sat up straighter, wondering if she was thinking about the smoker. “What do you think that was about?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said carelessly. “I’m sure it was fine.”

“Were theySons?” she whispered. “Do you think they were looking for you?”

“No,” I fibbed. “No, of course not. That doesn’t make any sense.”

Cold fear brewed in my gut and I hurriedly thought back, trying to remember anyone else but the guy who’d been checking out Sara. She could kid herself all she wanted but he’d been into her.

“No,” I finally said. “All those guys in suits by the SUVs looked Italian. Even that guy with the really blond hair — he’s gotta be Northern Italian.”

“How would you know?” Sara asked. I gave her an incredulous look. Pink rose in her cheeks and she ducked her head. “Oh, right, because you're Northern Italian. Sorry.”

“Wow, that pretty boy really did a number on you, huh?” I poked the side of Sara’s head. “Stop worrying.”

“We’re, uh, here,” the cab driver announced and turned to look back at us. “Not sure I should leave you, little ladies, alone, though.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said and scrambled out as Sara paid. “Thanks,” I told her as she joined me on the sidewalk.

“Lia, I wish you’d let me pay for more than a cab fare. You know that I make plenty of money with my side gigs.” She stepped in front of me and grabbed my forearms. “Let me—”

“You’ve already done way too much,” I said, “even for a best friend.”

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