Page 12 of Poison Sun

But this isn’t the time for that. So, I tear my eyes away from the book and refocus on Blaze.

He’s watching me with curiosity, amusement, and something else I can’t quite place.

“Well?” he asks—a challenge buried in a single word.

I close the book, stand up, turn around, and head into the next room. It’s a small, adjoining lounge that’s mostly empty at this hour.

After confirming that the few people inside it are too wrapped up in each other to be paying attention to me, I open the book again. My heart pounds as I do, half-expecting and half-dreading what I might find.

The pages are blank.

Completely, utterly blank.

Blaze is telling the truth.

And if I want to know what’s in this book, then I’m going to have to trust him and spend a seriously long amount of time with him.

Which, honestly, I don’t think I’ll mind in the slightest.

Morgan

When I return to Blaze, he gives me a small smile, clearly knowing what I’m about to say.

“You were right.” The words taste like defeat and victory in one. “But we can’t sit here in public and read this thing. Someone might come over and ask about it. Plus, the bar will close eventually. Let’s go back to my room and read it there.”

His grin widens.

My cheeks flush, and I hold up a finger to stop any misunderstandings. “This is strictly about the book,” I add. “Nothing else.”

“What ‘else’ would you be referring to?” he says, so innocently that I know he’s goading me.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so excited to spend all this time with him.

“Never mind,” I say quickly, desperate to change the subject—and wishing my cheeks would stop flushing every time he looks at me with those eyes or does something endearing. “Anyway, we have a lot of reading to do. We should start sooner rather than later.”

“Of course,” he says, and then he calls over the waiter, slipping him his card before I have a chance to reach for some cash.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say, although I can’t help feeling grateful. I have a significant amount of cash on me—I don’t want to leave an electronic trail of my whereabouts—but any bit of it saved is appreciated.

“It’s no problem.” He shrugs, dismissing the topic.

As we make our way to my room, I’m intensely aware of his presence beside me. It’s not just his appearance—which is undeniably attractive—but it’s also the way he carries himself. A confidence mingled with a respectful distance that he maintains as we walk.

This hostel room isn’t anything special. A double bed against one wall, a wardrobe against another, and a small table with two chairs. But, unlike most rooms in this place, it and the ensuite bathroom are all mine.

I was more than willing to fork over extra cash for privacy. It was necessary, given what I’m doing around here.

Blaze follows me in and surveys the room. “Nice place,” he says, and I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. “Cozy.”

“It’s not much,” I say simply. “But it does the job.”

Not wanting to just stand here awkwardly, I walk across the room, place the book on the table, and sit down.

Blaze takes the seat opposite me, his eyes focused on mine as he does.

My heart leaps, and I can’t help glancing at the bed.

No. We’ll be staying away from that. I can’t risk getting my heart involved with my mission. There’s too much at stake to get distracted.

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