The Darkest Temptation (Made 3)

“I did. Thank you. I definitely don’t deserve it after giving the other one away, but I appreciate it all the same.”

“You would freeze solid in five minutes here without a coat.” His warm gaze settled on my thighs, his next words reproachful. “And you should probably consider wearing pants.”

I glanced down and noticed, with my coat covering my dress completely, it looked like I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. My wardrobe may be impractical, but it was mine here.

“I might have been raised in Miami, but I was born in Moscow,” I told him. “I have some Russian blood in me as well.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the warmth between us disappeared like a puff of smoke, replaced with something frostier than the cold. My lungs grew tighter each silent second until I gestured to the hotel doors.

“Would you like to . . . come up?”

“No.”

Okay. Talk about being shot down.

“You were just skulking outside my hotel then? Waiting for unsuspecting women to run into you?”

A snort sounded from behind, and I turned to see Albert standing at the curb smoking another cigarette.

Ronan walked toward the car. “Come. We’re going to lunch.”

He wasn’t asking, but my infatuated heart pulled me in his direction without a single complaint.

He turned to look at me. “Don’t expect french fries though.”

“In that case . . .” I stopped with my hands in my coat pockets as if I’d suddenly changed my mind.

It earned me a soft laugh that warmed my stomach like a sip of hot chocolate, and I gave Albert a winning smile. “Good morning, Igor.”

He rolled his eyes, about to flick his cigarette to the pavement, but he stilled when I pointedly said, “Mars.”

After a defiant stare-down, he begrudgingly walked five feet to the hotel’s plastic cigarette receptacle and tossed it in. Ronan lifted a questioning brow at the strange altercation.

“It’s an inside joke,” I told him, like Albert and I shared something special.

Albert seemed to disagree. I heard him scoff as he walked around the car.

“We’ve talked about this,” I said with concern. “We all care about you here. There’s no need to be shy.”

The oversized man rubbed his face to hide the tiniest flicker of sardonic amusement before slipping into the driver’s seat. Ronan watched our exchange with a humorless look. He wasn’t amused, that much was clear.

He pulled the back door open for me without a word, and I swallowed when he sat close beside me. He smelled so good it intoxicated my senses, bringing back the memory of last night. I ran my clammy hands down my bare, numb thighs.

“I’m twenty, by the way, not nineteen.”

He looked amused by the admission, like I was a child announcing I was now eight while proudly displaying a hand and three fingers.

“Are you?”

I swallowed. “My birthday was a few days ago.”

“I’m thirty-two, kotyonok.”

Oh.

I assumed he was still in his twenties and realized I probably hadn’t eased his conscience in the slightest. What was twelve years anyway? A lot, apparently, taking into account my inexperience and his dirty, practiced words when he’d asked me if I was going to come on him.

Though how I acted last night certainly didn’t seem innocent.