“A deal? I think I have the upper hand right now, princess. So stop stalling. I know you’re trying to think of a way to escape.”
She lowered her hand from his chest and let out a noise of frustration. “You want the truth? Then listen up, because I’m only going to say this once: I need to file a report with Watkins in the next forty minutes or he’ll throw me off the case. If that happens, we’ll both be fucked.”
His curiosity got the better of him and he asked, “What do you mean ‘we’ll both be fucked’? Does this have anything to do with you using another name?”
She raised her chin a notch. “Let me file my report, and I’ll answer more of your questions.”
“What guarantee do I have that you won’t backstab me later?”
“Believe nothing else about me, but I always told the truth about my mother. I swear on her grave that I won’t betray you unless you give me a reason to do so.”
Memories of Sabrina’s tears as she told him about her mother’s death flashed into his head. That had been the moment he’d started to fall for the woman he thought was Sabrina Ono. Had it been part of her ruse or had her tears been genuine?
More than likely, this was a trick. But he couldn’t risk losing the only lead he had on Watkins. “Fine. But I’m coming with you to watch you file your report. That’s my condition.”
Sabrina relaxed her hand and lowered it down from Jorge’s crotch. If he hadn’t agreed to her deal, she would’ve grabbed his balls and twisted. Making the bitter man angry was not the smartest idea, but it’d been all she had.
Luckily, he’d agreed. “All right then, let me go so we can get moving.”
“Until we get to wherever it is we’re going, I’m going to hold your hand the entire way.” He took her right hand—her dominant one, of course—and squeezed. “If you don’t want to attract attention, then you’d better act like my girlfriend.”
She tried to pull away—this would most certainly get her caught if anyone was following her—but all he did in response was to pull her close against his side and say, “If you stay close and act like you adore me, people are less likely to pay attention to you. So, are you ready?”
She glared and tried her best to ignore the heat radiating off Jorge’s body. She hated to admit it, but Jorge was physically stronger than her. She’d never get free until either he allowed it, or she found a weapon to help even the odds.
Her best option was to use side streets and back alleys to avoid running into any of her Fed League colleagues. The plan wasn’t foolproof, but it was the best she could do for now.
She squeezed his hand back, careful to dig her nails into his skin. To his credit, he didn’t even flinch.
She finally answered him. “Your plan is pretty shitty—and will probably get us both caught—but it’s not like I have a choice.”
He shrugged. “Hey, things could be a lot worse, princess.”
“Stop calling me princess.”
“I would think it wouldn’t matter, seeing as you use different names in different places.”
She grit her teeth. She wasn’t going to argue any further. The more she argued, the more likely she would spill secrets she couldn’t afford to spill. Why she wanted him to believe her, she didn’t know. He’d made his hatred of her clear.
Instead, she focused on keeping up their farce and maneuvering them through the streets to her apartment. But when Jorge adjusted his hand to get a better grip, she couldn’t ignore how she liked the way his rough skin felt against hers. Then he brushed his thumb over the back of her hand, and Sabrina drew in a breath at his light touch.
What the hell? The man hated her and clearly wanted nothing to do with her, so why was she so aware of him? She had succeeded in ignoring his advances for nearly a year. She should be able to keep doing it.
Then the image of him back at the van, mere inches from her face, his gaze intent, sent a thrill through her body. This new version of Jorge could take the shady dealings of her life—and more.
Cut it out, Sabrina. Just because the fiercer new version of Jorge did things to her insides, and lower, didn’t mean she could act on them. Right now, she needed to file her report and then brace herself for another onslaught of Jorge-the-distrustful-asshole.
Her top priority was finding out how much he knew about her past.
They soon arrived at her apartment and she fumbled in her attempt to get her keys out of her pocket. She looked up at Jorge. “If I have to try and unlock my door with my left hand, we’ll be here all night.”
He let go and she instantly felt the loss of his heat. She ignored it, took out her keys, and unlocked the door. She motioned for him to enter, but he shook his head and said, “After you.”
Smart move, as she had some booby traps in place. She inched the door open and unhooked the string trigger before swinging the door wide open. She had no qualms about Jorge being here since she kept no personal information in her apartment, but she’d developed a slight sense of paranoia from her time tracking down a Feiru counterfeiter back in Brazil. These days, she always wanted to know if someone had entered her apartment in her absence.
She flipped on the light and saw everything was untouched, so she walked inside and made a beeline for her laptop. Just as she’d expected, Jorge entered behind her and shut the door.
She waved toward the kitchen. “Make yourself something to eat, if you like. This is going to take me about ten minutes.”