Page 73 of Boss

“A little sore,” she said. “But no, I don't have internal injuries."

“Here, I got the perfect cure for soreness. It’ll work faster than the wine.”

“It’s called Prairie Fire, ever had one?” he asked.

“Prairie Fire, Huh?”

She accepted the small whiskey glass after he poured in the tequila. She sniffed its contents. It smelled disgusting. “What is it?”

“You’re from Texas and never had good tequila?” he chuckled and stretched out on the rug to the left of her. He was turned on his side facing her, while leaning on his arm.

“How do you know I’m from Texas?” she asked.

“I know you were born in Plano.But I didn’t get to read much more than that though.” He opened the bottle of hot sauce and dumped several shakes of the red liquid into his shot glass of tequila. “If you are adopted then I know your parents are dead. Explains why you called for them and cried, well, it looked like trauma to me.”

She flinched hearing her history coming from him felt unjust. He looked at her with a sympathetic smile. He tossed down the concoction, and shook his head as if charged from it. “You’ve made this personal between me and you for some reason. Maybe you blame me for your parent’s death, I dunno. But this is personal. Making love to me was personal too. I felt that. And I didn't like it.”

She gave a slow clap. “Bravo. Well done. But correction, we didn't make love. And as I recall, you liked it a lot.”

“Not what I mean,” he tossed down another shot.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Try it...” he reached over to dump hot sauce into her shot glass and she shook her head no, covering her glass with her hand.

“Truce, meet me half way. Put some hot sauce right here on the back of your thumb and a shake of salt next to it. Lick the hot sauce, then the salt and take the shot.”

“Eeew,” she frowned.

“One try, Promise, it’ll open you up. Besides, you’re Braveheart remember?”

The comment threw her. She’d been called that name by him before. Many years ago. She looked from him to the hot sauce, then back into his eyes. “Fine,” she said and rolled up the sleeves on her robe. She did as he instructed. He watched her with a sly smile. She closed her eyes, and held her breath as she licked the hot sauce and salt before she tossed back the tequila. She coughed it down.

“Wish I had some limes to take the sting out of it,” he winked.

“Whatever,” she said, coughing into her fist. “It’s my turn to tell you who you are.”

“You think you know me?” his gaze held hers.

“I know the great Tarek Marshall, bachelor, the heartbreak kid was once engaged.”

Tarek paused.

“You were engaged. Am I lying?”

“Good guess.”

“Let me guess something else. Her name was Clarissa right?” Kassidy asked and suppressed the urge to chuckle. Why did she want to chuckle? She'd just spoken a name she swore she would never say in front of him. And she giggled? Loose lips sink ships. And one look into his eyes and she knew her ship was sunk.

Tarek sat upright.

“Where did you hear that?” he asked.

She tossed back the tequila and her face pinched up as it burned going down. She coughed and collected herself before pouring herself another, and lining her thumb with hot sauce and salt. He grabbed her wrist. His brown eyes were even darker now. The rage on his face sharpened his features. “Where did you hear it?”

“You keep saying this is personal. You keep probing. That’s instinct Tarek. You had it when we met on the plane. You had it when we slept together and you woke to see me snooping around. You had it after Alaska when you dumped me. This nagging feeling that I wasn’t who I said I was.”

“And now I know I was right.”

---