Devoted to Wicked
Page 4

She reared back at him. “Not that it’s any of your business—”
“Well, if you want me to help keep you safe until your paperwork comes through, then I have to figure out who might have gone stalker on you.”
“It was a theft,” she reminded as the elevator descended.
“Absolutely, but he didn’t take anything of Wisteria’s?”
Her frown said that puzzled her, too. “No.”
“I noticed your iPad was still on your nightstand, so he didn’t take that, either. How much was your jewelry worth?”
“Next to nothing.”
“How much cash did you have?”
“Forty bucks I stuck back in case of an emergency. The rest of it was in my pocket.”
“And has he tried to use your credit cards?”
She paused, then shook her head. “So far, no.” And she sounded almost puzzled by that. “When I called to cancel them, the banks said there’d been no activity on the accounts at all.”
He nodded. “Normally, that’s the first thing a thief would use because they know the numbers will be voided soon. So mostly what this guy took from you was your way out of the country.”
The elevator came to a shaking stop. After a long moment, the doors opened. Automatically, Cage fitted a hand at the small of Karis’s back and escorted her out. She shivered at his touch. He couldn’t miss it, just like he couldn’t escape the zip of heat that flooded his blood and settled into his cock.
With a little jerk, she pulled away and looked back at him with a warning not to lay hands on her again.
What the hell? The night they’d met, she hadn’t been able to get naked with him fast enough. She hadn’t been able to pull him inside her deep enough. She hadn’t been able to slake her hunger often enough. In fairness, he hadn’t either. From the moment his younger brother had introduced them, she’d reduced him into a puddle of oil, then tossed her flames all over him. The bonfire they generated had been a fucking combustible conflagration.
Now she seemed to have the personality of a glitchy freezer.
“Maybe…you’re right,” she conceded. “I didn’t stop to look at the situation that way.”
“You were too rattled. You felt violated.”
“Yeah.” The glance she gave Cage as she made her way to the pool bar said she was more than surprised he understood.
“And you’re mad, too.”
“Totally.”
She looked even more shocked at his insight. Really, it wasn’t that hard to guess. He heard from victims every day on the beat. But it was nice to have found a point of connection with her. Still, it didn’t stop him from needing some facts. “So let’s try this again. Have you slept with anyone since you’ve been here? He’ll be my first suspect.”
“No.”
Cage held in his sigh of relief. He didn’t have the right to expect that he was the only man in her life—yet. But he couldn’t deny that he wanted to be. “Anyone who…I don’t know, bought you a drink?”
“It’s an all-inclusive resort. The booze is included.”
“Or any gesture like that. Someone who shared a meal with you? Invited you to his room?”
“No.” She tossed on her sunglasses as they emerged from the brightly colored lobby to the infinity edge pool overlooking the Caribbean Sea.
At the restaurant’s entrance, they waited for someone to seat them. A few moments later, a smiling young, dark-eyed woman showed them to a table on the waterfront, tucked under the shade provided by the grassy roof overhead, swaying slightly in the warm tropical wind.
He helped Karis into her chair, then they both grabbed a menu from the table as the sun began to sink to the west. They both did a quick scan before setting the laminated list of foods aside. The moment they did, a Hispanic waiter approached the table with two glasses of water in hand—and eyes only for Karis.
“Hello, señorita. Buenas noches. How have you been?” He smiled as he set the water down, a glass in front of each plate.
“I’m all right. Thanks, Miguel.”
The twenty-something punk—probably closer to Karis’s age—beamed. “Thank you for remembering me, Señorita Karis. You look muy bonita.”
When he winked, Cage wanted to hurl. How often did the guy use that line on lonely tourists? He was good-looking enough, so it probably worked more often than it should.
It wouldn’t have any impact on Karis, Cage decided. Not while he was here.
“I appreciate that.” She gave him a small, slightly dismissive smile, obviously ready to order.
“Were you not supposed to travel home this morning?” Miguel asked.
She nodded, looking glum and agitated. “Yeah. Someone stole my passport last night, so I’ll be here another couple of days.”
The waiter turned a shocked expression her way. To Cage, it looked awfully staged.
“That is terrible. I’m so sorry someone would mar the Mexican hospitality we have done our best to show you this week with an act so callous. If I can do anything beyond bring you food to be of assistance—”
“I’ll take care of her,” Cage assured.
The slick Latin lover finally looked at him, expression tightening. “Señor. Hello. Are you a new guest with us, then?”
“Looks like it.”
His mouth pursed further as he slid another stolen glance at Karis. No doubt, the little shit was displeased.
“Very good,” Miguel said as if having him here were anything but, then turned his attention back to Karis. “What may I bring you today?”
She leaned her elbows on the table, probably not realizing how much cleavage she flashed the waiter. “I’ll take a chicken quesadilla and a margarita, heavy on the tequila, light on the salt.”
“For you, señorita bonita, anything.” He clapped a hand to his heart, then flung his arms out to her as if to say he was giving her all his love.
Cage resisted the urge to puke—or throw a punch. Instead, he settled for taking Karis’s hand across the table and holding it firmly when she—predictably—tried to pull away. “I’ll have the same. And some privacy to talk to my girlfriend.”
At his words, Miguel scowled before masking it with a politely bland expression. “Of course. Let me know if you would like anything else.”