Page 113 of The Vigilante's Lover
“An Old Fashioned,” I say. “Short splash. Bourbon.”
He nods.
I try not to think about a naked Mia under Peter’s hands as I survey the room. “Are the other suites occupied?” I ask.
“Just you here tonight,” the bartender says as he expertly swirls the bitters at the bottom of the glass. “Tomorrow night, though, we have some singer. Hopefully it won’t be an issue.” His tone is dark.
Great. A musician.
The elevator opens directly into this room, four exits, plus the windows. The rooms are probably laid out identically, although mirrored. The bedrooms are to the inside. This hotel has eighteen floors, but none are above. Out the window and up to the roof would be the wisest escape in a pinch.
Not that I think anyone knows where we are. But positions like bartenders in posh hotels are prime locations for retired Vigilantes.
I assess this man. Sturdy, fairly fit, gray haired. I’d put him at 65. One of the telltale elements of old-school operatives is the way they always scan a room. It’s something very difficult to get out of the habit of doing.
He passes me the drink, and I take a sip. “Excellent,” I say.
He nods and wipes the bar.
Nope, not Vigilante. He’s let several minutes go by without a visual sweep. We’re in a good place for the night. I never let down my guard, but my assessment of our security ensures that I am able to focus on other, more delectable things.
I turn back to my suite and enter the spacious living room. I hear a groan from Mia and realize the bedroom door is closed.
I’ve crossed over to it in three seconds.
6: Mia
Jax charges into the bedroom like a mad bull.
Peter stops his magic on my tense back muscles. “Is everything all right?” he asks Jax.
Jax’s eyes dart from me to Peter. I know what he’s seeing. Me, no robe, on my belly, my backside barely covered by a towel. I do feel a little revealed, but whoa. Totally worth it.
“He has this oil,” I begin, but Jax’s glare stops me.
“We’re done here,” Jax says.
“But we’ve only —” Peter begins.
“We’re done here,” Jax repeats, and the menace in his voice would make a military commander quake.
It definitely makes me quiver. I hope he never gets that angry at me.
Although, I guess he probably has.
Peter snaps his bag of massage oils shut. “I’ll come back for the table later,” he says, shooting an angry look at Jax.
I’m amused that there’s someone in the world who isn’t subservient to him.
Jax’s dark eyes follow him out the door. He waits until Peter has completely left the suite, then he takes a sip of his drink.
“How was it?” he asks casually.
Good grief. As if he hasn’t just thrown the man out! When it was his idea!
I prop up on one elbow, knowing full well that I’m exposing parts to Jax. I’m going to make him suffer for being a possessive ass.
“Great, until some crazy man ran in here and stopped the whole thing.”
