Page 150 of Lady Killer

“Thank you, sir,” I said, ducking my head in acknowledgment.

“Do a good job, and I’ll consider moving you into your proper position in the family.”

He raised his glass. “To blood and power.”

“To blood and power,” I echoed.

We both drained our glasses.

The Scotch burned more harshly than I had anticipated.

“Is that all, sir?” I asked, more than ready to return to Shady Harbor.

“Actually, Locke, there is one more thing,” my grandfather said, something twisted flickering in his gaze.

“What can you tell me about Maria Burgos? I believe she goes by the name Sofia Torres these days.”

Chapter forty-two

Luz

“You should get that.”

Every single word caused me pain, but they spilled out of me regardless.

The muscles in Nixon’s face tensed, so quickly I almost missed it.

Before I could say anything else, he was rolling off me and the atmosphere suddenly felt charged with tension.

He bent over to pick up his pants, and I turned away from staring at the impressive expanse of his muscular,inked back.

Groping around the bed, I subtly attempted to look for my underwear.

My heart was still pounding in my chest, and the line between arousal and anxiety seemed paper thin as I wrestled my shirt back down over my still-undone bra.

I almost . . .

With Nixon . . .

The phone started ringing again, and I ran my hands desperately under the covers to try and find my underwear.

“Fucking Christ, I’m coming,” Nixon grumbled as he pulled on his shirt.

His back was still to me. I couldn’t decide if looking him in the eyes would be better or worse.

“What the fuck’s going on?”

The bass of his voice was so deep that it sent a shiver through me that only increased the burden on my poor heart.

“So, who the hell is he?”

The twin sound of Alister’s voice was audible, but the words were garbled beyond my comprehension.

They were talking about Michael, they had to be.

My brain felt like laundry during the wash cycle, jerking and tumbling around. I tried to focus on what the twins were saying, but my body was still on fire, and the absence of Nixon’s touch was profound. I was also increasinglyaware of how wet I was, with my underwear still nowhere to be found.

I started kicking around with my feet for them in case they got pushed to the bottom of the bed.

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