Thirteen Page 72

“Can you pass those to me?” I said to Elena. “I wouldn’t know a stock tip if someone wrote it on the table, but my investment guy can use them.”

“Speaking of writing on the table,” Elena said, gesturing at the art unfolding beneath me. “You’re going to have to cut that out before you go.”

Adam nodded. “It’s the best crayon-on-tablecloth work you’ve ever done.”

I laughed and kept sketching. It was nothing really, just a shot of the restaurant interior, more doodling than drawing.

“I haven’t seen you draw in a while,” Elena said.

I shrugged. “I do. Just … not as much these days. But as long as I’m sitting here with a brown paper tablecloth and crayons …”

She leaned over to look more closely. “There’s a lot more color than your usual stuff.”

“Because there aren’t any grays and blacks in the crayon cup,” I said.

“Ah.”

Clay rocked back in his chair, casting bored glances at Lester’s table. At first, we’d jumped every time someone walked past him and nearly raced in when a colleague thumped him on the shoulder. By now, even when the server leaned over to ask something, we didn’t twitch. Asmondai had said the group would strike tonight. While that wasn’t set in stone, it was unlikely they would inject Lester in a restaurant, surrounded by his friends and associates.

 

“Go scout outside,” Elena said as Clay thumped his chair back down.

“That an order?”

She smiled. “It is.”

“Thank you.”

As he got up to go, his fingers brushed her back. Just a light touch. Making contact. I’m sure that as we’d been sitting there, Clay had his leg against hers under the table.

When Clay zipped back a few minutes later, Elena got up.

“Are they leaving?” she asked him.

“Nope. And they won’t be for a while. A car full of Saudis just drove up. I’m guessing they’re here for Lester.”

They were. Seemed they were supposed to be here an hour ago, but were delayed. Dinner was about to begin in earnest.

“I say we give the kids a break.” She looked at us. “I know you’ve had a rough couple of days, and I already reserved the hotel rooms so—”

“Great,” Adam said. Then quickly added, “I mean, great that you reserved them already. But we’d hate to cut out on you guys like that.”

“Cut,” Clay said. “While you have the chance.”

“The Omni up the road,” Elena said. “The room is under Vasic. You guys usually share when you’re on a case, right? So you can watch each other’s backs?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Good,” Elena said. “Go on then. Rest. The hotel is a couple blocks from here. We’ll call if anything happens.”

As we headed out, I whispered to Adam, “Do you think they know?”

“Nah. Elena’s just being considerate.”

 

 

THIRTY-TWO

 

We did not walk. We went out the front door, saw a cab, and decided speed was of the essence.

We tactfully avoided making out in the cab or the elevator. Once we got the room door open, though, all bets were off. Adam had me inside and up against the wall before the door swung shut.

As I started to kiss him back, I caught a glimpse of the room over his shoulder and stopped.

“I don’t think we’ve been nearly as discreet as we thought,” I said as I nodded at the king-sized bed.

He turned to look. “Nope, apparently we weren’t.”

I laughed and pulled him close. Before our lips could touch, he backed up. He looked over his shoulder at the bed, then at me.

“I think we should wait,” he said.

“What?”

He put his hands on my shoulders. “Let’s not rush into this.”

“Rush?” I sputtered.

“I want you to be sure, Savannah.”

“Hell, yes, I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure …”

 

I caught the glitter in his eyes then. The twist of his mouth, like he was biting his cheek to keep from laughing.

“You … you …”

He let out a whoop of a laugh. “Sorry. I had to. The look on your face …” He was laughing too hard to finish his sentence, hands falling from my shoulders.

I narrowed my eyes and took a step toward him. “May I remind you that my spells are much improved?”

“Sorry.” His hand went up as he choked on a laugh. When I glowered, he reached for me, hands going to my hips. “Come here.”

“Mmm, maybe not.” I backed away.

He moved forward, putting his hands on my hips again, warming me through my jeans as his lips went to my ear. “I’ll make it up to you.”

I grasped his wrists and pushed his hands away. “No, I think you might have a point. We are rushing things and it’s not like we really need to do this now.”

“Umm …”

“I know I don’t.”

I kept backing up. He started to step forward, then stopped himself. The start of a smile disappeared in a flicker of uncertainty, as if he was pretty sure I was joking—really hoped I was joking—but wasn’t completely sure.

I started unbuttoning my shirt. He grinned and tried to grab me again, but I put my hand against his chest.

“Uh-uh.”

“But …” He gestured at my open shirt buttons.

“We told Elena we were getting some rest. I’m not going to nap in my clothing.”

I unbuttoned the shirt halfway, then flicked open the clasp on my jeans and shimmied them down. I took the clip from my hair next and shook it out. Then I finished with the shirt, letting it fall open. Adam let out a soft breath.

I backed up onto the bed. He watched me. Just stood there, watching me. I peeled the bedspread back and slid onto the sheets, pulling my bare legs up under me, shirt opening, swinging my hair over to cover my breasts.

“Do you want to take a nap with me?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered hoarsely.

I shrugged off the shirt. Then I reclined on the pillows, one knee up, hair brushed aside. I hooked my thumbs in the sides of my panties and inched them down my hips.

“Are you sure?” I said. “Because if you aren’t sure—”

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