Page 62 of Exposed

She puffed out her cheeks and shook her head. “Nope. I’m still full from lunch.”

His mouth lifted in the half-smile that a lot of women found attractive—for reasons she couldn’t fathom.

“How about we relax in the suite tonight? We can order room service later if we work up an appetite.” Heat sparked his eyes, singeing her to the spot.

Her hand closed over the smooth rail at the small of her back. The club sandwich she’d had for lunch burned a hole in her stomach lining and fire burned up her throat.

Her reflection shone back at her from the mirror behind Carlos, her face stark white, her eyes huge in her face.

She nodded and forced a smile but her cheeks trembled. “Sounds good.”

The elevator slowed and the doors whooshed open. She stepped into the hall before him and a trail of heat scorched up her spine.

How was she going to get out of this?

Her teeth sunk into the side of her tongue and the tinny taste of blood filled her mouth. Carlos had his key out before she could open her purse. He flicked it into the lock and bumped the door open with his hip.

She kicked off her sandals and gripped her purse in her fingers. “I’m going to wash off the saltwater. Pick out a movie?” She strived for a perky tone, but it fell flat. She moved ahead of him toward the bedroom and his footsteps padded close behind her.

“Don’t be too long.” His hand dropped to cup her ass as she crossed the threshold. She pressed her lips together, collected her pajamas from the closet, and closed the bathroom door. The lock snapped sharply echoing in the bright space. She set her purse next to her towel.

There was no way she could sleep with him. She choked on a gag and stepped out of her dress. Her chest constricted. She didn’t want anyone’s hands on her but Nate’s. After the last week, he had claimed her heart and body.

But if she didn’t prove herself to Carlos, everything will have been for nothing. She’d have risked her and Nate’s life, her relationship with Ethan, and Nate’s job. More important than all of that, Leila’s death would go unavenged. She would be just another statistic, a victim of the large, powerful hands of Carlos Santiago. She stepped under the spray and piled her hair in a bun on top of her head. She’d need another shower beforeshe went to bed so she didn’t bother scrubbing her skin yet. Drugging him would be difficult. If she played it right, she might be able to let him think he’d actually gotten laid when he woke up. Otherwise, he’d know something was amiss.

But how close would she have to bring him?

If things hadn’t progressed with Nate, she wouldn’t even think twice about it. She would have done whatever it took to accomplish the job and this would be no different.

Besides, Nate had a million notches in his belt for every one of hers. She had no feelings or emotions for Carlos. All she had to do was put on a show. If she got him really drowsy and was all over him, her plan might just work. She stepped out of the shower and dried off, slipping her bra and panties on. Determination hardened the muscles in her face. Tomorrow they would nail his ass to the wall. She opened her purse and dug into the hole in the liner. She pulled out the tiny zip lock baggie holding a few crushed up roofie pills and tucked it into her bra.

She threaded her arms through the housecoat, turned the lock on the bathroom door, and took a deep, shuddering breath. She pressed her shaking hand to her chest and pulled the door open. Carlos’s face snapped up to hers. He sat bare chested against the massive steel grey cushioned headboard. His bare leg stretched over the comforter, black boxers were the only thing that covered him.

His jaw clicked open and the remote fell from his fingers. She closed the few feet to the bed and dropped the housecoat.

“Goddamn,” he wheezed. She pressed her hands into the mattress and crawled across the comforter.

Nate would be furious.

A muscle jumped in his throat as she inched closer. His dark, ebony eyes burned into hers. He grabbed her waist and yanked her down on the bed beside him.

His mouth crushed against hers and the faint taste of tobacco touched her tongue. Her stomach rolled and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Look at me,” he growled.

She swallowed and opened her eyes. Her heartrate slowed. She hadn’t thought this through. He was a dangerous man and would be no different in bed. His hand moved between her thighs and his fingers slipped into her panties.

If she didn’t take over, there was no telling what he would do. “Wait,” she panted. Her fingers dug into his scalp and she shifted her free hand to clamp around his wrist. “Let’s have a drink.” She scurried off the bed, and Carlos’s eyes darkened even more.

“Make it a double.”

She smiled and sauntered out of the room to where the wet bar sat in the living room. She dropped two ground up pills into the glass and filled it with whiskey, and then poured her glass. Her pulse ricocheted against her throat. If he found out she’d drugged him, he’d kill her with his bare hands.

The walls of her throat hardened, making it nearly impossible to suck in air. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. She had to do this. The cool glasses lowered the temperature of her sweating palms as she turned back to the bedroom. Carlos waited, stretched out on the sheets. She passed him his glass and his fingers circled her wrist. He groaned as she pushed her tongue between his teeth.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pictured Nate, his eyes warm and his touch gentle. She swallowed, pushing down the bile in her throat and a silent prayer entered her mind.

Please, God. Don’t let Nate be listening.

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