Page 79 of Tattletale

Gabriel grabs my martini from my hand and sets it down on the table. Taking my hand in his, he brings my fingertips to his lips. He kisses them each individually in a grandiose show of affection. “Fiona, you look absolutely bewitching tonight. And I apologize I’ve been distracted. You have my attention. In fact, you’ve had my attention since the first moment I saw you in my club a few weeks ago.”

I swear I’m not falling for it… Except then, why is my heart beating so fast? I think it’s the nerves. The adrenaline of knowing you’re a liar.

“Thank you,” I muster out in a whisper.

“Do I have yours?” Gabriel releases my hand, picks up my martini, and hands it back to me.

“Pardon?”

“Do I haveyourattention?”

I nod in reply.

“Does that mean you’ll finally spend the night with me, tonight?”

Oh, shit. I knew this was coming.

By some miracle, I managed to evade sleeping with Gabriel for almost a month, including three overnight trips together. We agreed to take things slow. The first weekend he didn’t press. At night, I stayed in my room, and he stayed in his. The second weekend we still got separate suites, but he lingered at the door when he walked me to my room. He chuckled when I wished him a good night and told him to sleep tight. The third weekend was trickier. Gabriel only reserved one suite for us, clearly having decided it was time for us to get naked.

I had to feign a terrible wine headache. Gabriel was sweet. He got me a cold compress for my head and rubbed my feet. He apologized several times for going overboard and dragging me to so many vineyards, insisting I sampled all his favorite wines. I shared a bed with him that night, with an imaginary line drawn between us.

Honestly, I should consider sleeping with Gabriel a perk of the job. He is the quintessential definition of sexy. He’s so hot, in fact, his supposed desire to end the world might be forgivable. I’m a killer, a thief, and the daughter of a mob monster. My virtue isn’t exactly an issue.

The problem is…

There’s a warmth I feel when Lance smiles at me. I feel grounded when we laugh together. I can rest in his arms. I’m on fire when he touches me. My mind goes fuzzy when he whispers all the filthy ways he wants me. Once you taste love like that, nothing else has flavor.

Gabriel’s still waiting on a reply, so I rack my brain for an excuse. “Um, I…”

The rest of my sentence, that I don’t know how to finish anyway, is drowned out when the entire restaurant, filled with about fifty or so guests, starts singing, “Happy birthday to you.”

All eyes are on the entrance as President Baker enters with a beautifully done-up Vienne. Her dress is a bright red and lined with sequins. It makes me a little uncomfortable how closely we match. Gabriel is the one who had my outfit sent to my room when he invited me to this event. It’s a coincidence that I’m dressed up like Vienne’s twin, right? At least her shoes are a matching red, whereas mine are black and strappy.

The surprisingly harmonious singing rips through the restaurant entrance, like a performing choir. Who knew politicians could sing like this? Gabriel places his hand on my back and uses the distraction as an opportunity to pardon himself.

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” he asks.

“Why? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He flashes me a clipped smile, like he’s annoyed I’m questioning him. “Restroom.”

“Okay.” I nod.

“Should I bring you another when I come back?” Gabriel nods toward my nearly empty martini.

“Please.” My brows furrow as I study the peculiar tense expression he’s wearing.

“Extra filthy, right?” Gabriel winks, then reaches out to smooth the wrinkles between my brows. “Relax. You’re safe. I’ll be right back.” He wraps his hand around the back of my head and brings my lips to his. Instead of the peck I was expecting, he kisses me hard. I’m so taken by surprise I don’t have time to pull away before his tongue slips in my mouth.

With that, he’s off, disappearing down the hallway that leads to the restrooms. Gabriel thinks I was apprehensive about being left alone in a room full of strangers. Quite the contrary—I wastrying to figure out what the hell spooked him. His phone didn’t ring. It had to be the President’s arrival, which doesn’t make sense. Obviously, they are on good terms if he was invited to a personal birthday party. Gabriel even opted to bring a date.

This Gabriel mystery is making less and less sense.

“Well, you two look chummy.”

My heart nearly surges out of my chest when I hear his voice. I can’t hide my surprise at Lance’s sudden appearance next to me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I gasp out, as the last remnants of my drink spill over my glass. I have to pause to catch my breath because,holy shit,Lance in a tux has my heart thumping and the heat rising to my cheeks. I forgot what a perfect specimen he really is.

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