Page 38 of Bishop's Queen

She shut her mouth and squared herself. “You didn’t, Muscles.” But hesohad. “I haven’t told anyone that the stalker thing has me spooked.”

Their food arrived, and her mouth watered. “Smells amazing.”

“I can’t smell a thing.” Wary would be the best way to describe Bishop, though. But after a questioning look, he turned his attention back to her. “You were always hypersensitive with your senses.”

“Including how my heeby-jeeby alert is in overdrive.”

“I won’t tell a soul. As long as you promise to trust me.”

“Of course.” She should say more, but whatever it was wouldn’t come.

“Time to try my first mushroom wrap.”

Painting on her best face, she grabbed one too. “If you don’t love it, I’ll take you anyplace else, your choice, my treat. You can have anything you want until you’re completely satisfied.”

He paused, dark-green eyes burrowing into hers until she needed to squirm. What she said was innocent, but his look was loaded. It wasn’t dirty, but damn…

He stabbed a bite of the nori roll and put it in his mouth. “Tasty.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Ella let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her heart pounded in her ears.

“El…” He took a sip of his water and leaned forward as if to tell her a secret. They were cheek to cheek, and Bishop’s warm skin grazed hers as his hand touched her back.

His touch was more intoxicating than the vodka on an empty stomach, better than any memory of sex. Just his touch, his lips and breath tickling her skin, caused her stomach to flutter. Ella leaned into him, bracing herself with a hand on his hard, denim-covered thigh. Even relaxed, the muscle was so broad and cut that it surprised her. What kind of power could Bishop unfurl in bed?

Heart racing, she tilted toward his chest, and her hair fell, a curtain hiding them from the dark world.

“Your three o’clock, babe. Is that your ex-slash-assistant sitting at a table, eyeballing the shit out of you?” Bishop eased back.

Devastated that it was a diversion and shocked at her sheer visceral reaction, Ella crashed as though she couldn’t let go of her lead-lined disappointment. But as she twisted to see Jay actually sitting at a table in the bar, watching them, a new wave of irritation quickly cropped up.

For a moment, she had pretended this was real—that Bishop cared about her without being paid, and the chemistry and body positioning were more than him scanning for threats. And for all that was holy on this green planet, what was Jay doing there?

Bishop put a hand on her cheek, directing her attention to him. “Yes or no?”

“That’s Jay.”

Bishop pulled back. “That is one angry-looking assistant you have.”

“Well…” She gave Bishop a pointed look, dropped her eyes back and forth between them, then raised her eyebrows. “We used to date. This looks… not what it is. No one’s a perfect saint.”

“Something’s off,” Bishop countered.

Ella almost laughed, inching back, but Bishop huddled them close again. Her stomach dropped at the ruse. “Jay’s harmless. We work together. Our schedules match up; our eating habits do too. Not a lot of places serve awesome vegan. So”—she shrugged—“no conspiracy.”

Bishop stood up. “He’s your ex and coworker, and lucky us, he’s here.”

“Don’t cause a problem.” Ella placed her hand on Bishop’s side to stop him and—whoa, not the time to notice a solid sheet of muscle—she stood up too. “We’ll go say hi. No big deal.”

“Let’s.”

“Oh, brother,” she groused.

“For the sake of argument, no explanation as to who I am.” With his hand on her back, he guided her to a glaring Jay.

“All right.” A few steps later, they were beside the table of her displeased friend. “Hi, Jay.”

Jay stood, staring at Bishop as though his buck-fifty frame could take the man who had his hand on Ella’s back. Not a chance. Not even if Bishop were twenty sheets to the wind and didn’t see it coming. But leave it to Jay to act like an asshole.

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