Page 54 of His Deadly Lies

My grumble becomes a groan, and I shove the pillow down harder on the side of my head like it will somehow keep him from noticing my embarrassment.

“Please don’t,” I start.

Carter snorts, poised for a retort if I had to guess. When I say nothing, he asks, “Are you okay?”

I shake my head back and forth, the movement also hidden by the pillow. “No,” I force myself to say out loud, no matter how much it kills me. I’m not ready to face him yet. To look up and blink away the grit in my eyes and see him smirking at me.

“Where does it hurt, Mia?” His voice sounds from beside the bed, deep and rough from sleep.

“You don’t call me that.” My own voice trembles but not out of fear. No, the opposite, in fact, because the deep roughness does something to me.

“You don’t act the way you did last night.” My face flushes with heat, and I swear he’s about to bring up the kiss when Carter instead says, “Unless you never hold your liquor well. I’ve gone back and forth on the thought, and I find it hard to believe you ever get close to drunk.”

“I do hold my liquor well, normally. Even though—” Empty stomach, but still. I shouldn't feel the way I do from drinking one martini without eating. “I’ll be fine,” I continue. “I’m just a little hungover. The feeling will pass.”

“Actually,” Carter starts. He breaks off in a sigh. Finally, I turn toward him, peeking out from under the pillow and meeting his penetrating gaze, and he’s shaking his head. “I believe someone slipped a little something extra into your drink.”

“Wait…what?”

“You were drugged.”

I swallow hard over the lump blocking my scratchy throat. “What gives you that idea?”

Slowly, Carter stands, stretching his arms overhead, and I allow my eyes to run down his body. He crosses to the bed and drops down on his knees so that we’re eye level, licking his lips. I jump when he reaches out and drags a calloused finger along my hairline, pushing dark strands away from my face. And almost as soon as he releases me, he scrubs the same hand over his face to break eye contact. I don’t miss the quicksilver second of relief I see there.

“You have no idea how sick you got last night.” He watches me and seems to go back and forth on my question in his head. “You scared me.”

My heart starts to race. For some reason, his statement scares me. Something hard presses against the inside of my ribs before I shift, and his eyes drop to my cleavage.

Okay, better.

“You’re going to have to increase security around here. I’ll have men do a sweep of staff anywhere you plan to go,” he tells me as he stands.

I brace for impact. “You’re not locking me in this house. I have a job to do. How dare you think you can keep me from—”

“Mia.” My name on his lips is a prayer and a curse. “Stop.”

“If you think for one minute you are going to keep me from my work—” I counter, my voice deathly calm.

“I don’t have a death wish, Princess,” he interrupts. “You just need to understand that increased security for you, at this point, is a no-brainer. Trust me. I get it. You’d rather not increase security for a number of reasons.” He holds up his hands to tick them off. “It makes you look weak like you’re expecting an attack. It sends the wrong message. And it’s a tangible reminder that this scares you.”

“I’m not scared.”

“It’s okay to be, even if you aren’t. Because you’re not the type of woman who lets her fear or any other fucking emotion control her. You’re too smart for that.” He reaches for me again before stopping inches away, pulling his hand back.

“Not so touchy-feely when I’m sober, huh?” I laugh to take some of the tension out of myself and some of the weight from the statement.

My joke falls flat as Carter jerks away from me, and his arm drops to his side. “I warned you what would happen if you pushed me,” he reminds me.

Yawning, I force myself up to my elbows and scratch a little until my body starts to protest. I don’t miss the flash of hunger in Carter’s eyes before he steps away from me.

“And what will Ricardo say?” I wonder out loud. “If he ever finds out about last night?”

I shouldn’t push, and the logical part of me screams that taking my mood out on Carter is unfair. To everyone. It’s not his fault I let someone slip something into my drink. And it’s not his fault I lunged at him the second we were in this room alone.

I’d do it again.

Carter pauses only for the briefest heartbeat before he stands to his full towering height, looming over me. I follow his movements, tracking every minuscule change of his face, but he’s wearing a mask of apathy when he tells me, “Ricardo is on his way over here as we speak if he’s not here already. I tried to let you sleep, but your family has already been made aware of your predicament. So it’s time to make yourself presentable. Go shower.”

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