Page 74 of Captive Audience
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t track my menstrual cycle better than me.” I checked the date on my phone. Yep. Period due in two days.
I’d been so busy surviving the week from hell that I hadn’t even noticed the looming crimson tide.
I leaned my hip against the island. “You promised to ask around about Sierra.”
Rook nodded. “I did. I’ve got Aidan on it. He knows everyone who talks on the street, so if something’s out there, he’ll hear it. But nothing yet.”
Disappointment curled through me. “Thanks for asking.”
“We’ll keep trying.” Rook stepped closer until he stood beside me at the counter. Near enough for me to smell his cologne, a hint of cigar smoke, whiskey, and— Wait. Was that perfume?
I frowned. “Where have you been?”
He gave me a confused look. “At work.”
“There’s glitter on your shirt.” I flicked it from his shoulder. “And you smell like a Victoria’s Secret store. You’ve been at a strip club.”
His mouth lifted in amusement. “Business takes me to all kinds of places.”
“Oh, I’ll bet it does. And I suppose a lap dance is an essential part of a meeting.”
“Would you have a problem with that?”
I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut again.
Jealousy flared inside me like a live wire, hot and buzzing. I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to feel anything at all, but I did.
Rook wasn’t mine. This was all fake. But the idea of some hussy’s hands on him made my fingers clench into fists.
“Christ almighty.” Rook scraped a hand over his stubbled jaw. “You’re jealous?”
I clicked my tongue. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Then why’s your pretty face gone all red and blotchy? You look like steam is about to erupt from your nostrils.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “I’m pissed off, that’s why. Your stupid Mob wife rules mean I can barely talk to another man, but you’re allowed to have some sweaty stranger in stilettos rub her body all over yours. The double standards in this fake marriage are bullshit.”
“Guess it’s lucky you don’t have any real feelings for me. Isn’t it?”
“I havelotsof real feelings. All of them make me want to commit murder.”
“Calm your knickers, Wildfire.” Rook held his palms up and gave me a pointed look. “A lap dance was offered by a very forward young lass who didn’t want to take no for an answer.”
I scoffed and glanced away.
Rook clasped my chin and forced my eyes back to his. “Butnowas the answer she got. I shifted her off my lap just as quickly as she’d plonked herself there and sent her on her way, okay?”
“Like I can believe anything you tell me.”
“I haven’t lied to you once.”
I tried to recall an example so I could call him out but came up empty. Rook had twisted meanings, intentionally left out importantinformation, and been brutally honest. But I couldn’t say he’d ever lied to me. It didn’t seem like it was his style.
“Really?” I asked.
“Aye. You have my word.”
“Okay,” I said quietly.
