Page 18 of Twist of Fate

“This is all kinds of wrong.”

“Sometimes what others believe is wrong, is actually the best thing to do for everyone. You will see I am right. You belong here with me. And here you will stay.”

“Not happening. I’m not saying I’m not open to spending the rest of the night with you…”

“Unacceptable. There is very little of the night left.”

“You’re not listening. This,” her hand gesture included both of them, “is impossible, and while we both know I enjoyed it, sore or not, come tomorrow morning, I’m going back to my flat.”

“Nochère, you will not. Come tomorrow morning, after I have ravaged you thoroughly, we will have breakfast in bed and come up with a rational plan to keep you safe.”

“And who will keep me safe from you?” she whispered, for the first time sounding afraid.

“There is no keeping you from me, but I will ensure both your happiness and safety.” He pulled her protestingly into his arms. “All will be well,chère. I swear it, and you know we mafia types take those kinds of vows very seriously.”

“Don’t make fun of me. I don’t like it.”

“I would never make fun of you. I might tease you from time to time, but never with ill intent.”

He dragged her back down to hold her close.

“I don’t want to fall for you,” she said.

“Too late,” he teased, coaxing a smile from her.

“I know,” she said as she settled herself in his arms, with her head on his shoulder.

He listened as her breathing deepened and she drifted off to sleep, the smile still evident on her face. Bodie didn’t discount the difficulties they faced, but he knew they were both where they were meant to be. He allowed himself to close his eyes, wishing that this night would never end, but knowing that it was already slipping away.

CHAPTER9

QUINN

Quinn woke to the sound of water. It was disorienting until she became awake enough to discern there were two sources of sound—one was a faint lapping of the Gulf of Mexico from outside the French doors; the other was much closer and came from the shower in the attached bath.

Rhetorically she asked herself what had she done. The little voice inside her said,You slept with a gangster—a probable target for your next story—and you loved it.The little voice was right, she had found herself experiencing ecstasy that she’d never believed could exist. They found a rhythm that felt more like a long-term committed couple rather than a one-night stand.

Not a one-night stand, the start of something wonderful.

She told the voice to shut up.

She couldn’t even blame what happened on being drunk or on not knowing who or what he was. She’d damn sure known exactly who he was, and she had been stone-cold sober. What the fuck was she supposed to do now? She knew a kick-ass story on the illusiveEl Tigrecould do wonders for the paper and for her career, but she had compromised all that by sleeping with the enemy, so to speak. Could she spin it to be she’d been working undercover? Was there a way to turn this to her advantage?

Did she want to?

Quinn knew she’d spoken the truth when she’d told him she was afraid she was falling for him. He’d done nothing after that to make her regret her honesty, other than the whole falling in love with a gangster thing. He’d been fairly open with her, and they’d lain cuddled together in the dark talking about their pasts. Bodie Lambeau had a lot going for him—strong, powerful, rich, and drop-dead gorgeous. He was also intelligent, charming, and funny. He was also a gangster, and she was a crime reporter.

He was in the shower. She had to make a decision. That wasn’t necessarily true; she could see what evidence she could gather and then decide what to do with it. Slipping from the bed, she pulled on his shirt from the night before and began to quietly rummage through his things. Nothing in his wallet—well, nothing except a whole lot of cash and a phone number that looked vaguely familiar. His pockets were empty, but she spotted a laptop on a small desk beside the French doors.

Opening the lid, she was surprised to find it on, and when she touched the screen, it opened. There was a myriad of financial data, some of which made no sense at all. One spreadsheet looked like something he was thinking of investing in. There was a grainy video of what looked to be men offloading something from a boat. It was impossible for her to tell when and where it had been shot.

Quinn was so engrossed in what she was finding that she failed to hear the shower being cut off and the sound of someone coming up behind her. It was only when his hand connected with her backside that she realized he’d caught her red-handed.

“Exactly what do you think you’re doing going through my laptop?” he snarled.

She whirled around. “That hurt.”

“Good. Now, answer my question.”

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