“I am,” he said, and had just enough time to kiss me before the limo came to a halt and the driver pulled open the door.
I peered outside. “The aquarium? Weren’t we just here?”
“I thought we should try again. I like this place. I want you to have good memories.”
“But it’s the middle of the night. It’s closed.”
“Not for us,” he said, then led me to the entrance. Sure enough, we were allowed in, then led back to the Caribbean Reef Rotunda again.
“Tyler,” I said, the word little more than breath.
The room was set up with just one table, draped in a white tablecloth. A violinist played off to the side, and a private chef stood at the ready.
A single candle lit the table, and there was an empty bud vase for my rose.
I looked at the room, at him, and felt tears prick my eyes. “Why?” I asked.
“Because I look at you and all I want is to be inside you. To touch you. To throw you down and take you, any way and anywhere. It overwhelms me.”
“It overwhelms me, too.”
“But even with all of that,” he said, “I don’t want to forget to romance you.”
He took my hand and pulled me into his embrace. “I’ve gone out with a lot of women, Sloane, but I’ve only fallen in love with one. I want to make this work.”
“So do I,” I whispered, though I’m not sure how I managed to speak through the roar of emotion. “But I don’t know how.”
“We’ll figure it out together.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Venti nonfat latte, right?” the barista asked, and I cringed, just a little.
“I should probably cut back,” I said. “But yes.”
I paid, then scooted over to wait for my drink. And as I did, Kevin came up to me.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
I gaped at him. “What the hell? Have you been following me?”
“I just need two minutes.”
“Jesus, Kevin. You’re going off the rails.”
“I’m not,” he said, then shoved an envelope into my hands. “That’s everything I have on them, a laundry list of the operations I think they’re involved in.”
My heart pounded in my chest with the rising fear that Tyler—that all of the knights—were in trouble. I worked to stay steady. To not let Kevin see my reaction. Or, if he did, to think it was the thrill of the chase.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll look it over.”
And I would, I thought. Carefully, and with Tyler. And if their asses were hanging out in any way, they could use Kevin’s list as a blueprint for getting clear.
Tyler wasn’t at Destiny when I got there, so I left the envelope in the top drawer of his desk, then headed in to get ready for my shift.
I had on the short shorts and was getting ready to do a circuit, when Cole’s hand clutched tight on my upper arm.
“What the fuck, Sloane?”
“Excuse me?”
“Tyler’s a good man—he trusted you. And that meant we trusted you, too. But dammit, girl, none of us take kindly to being played, Tyler most of all.”
I jerked my arm free. “What are you talking about?”
I had no idea what had sparked this, but it was clear that Cole had a tight rein on the temper I’d seen before. Right then, he looked like he could put a hole through me the same way he put his fist through the hospital wall.
I didn’t know if any of the three had ever killed someone, but in that moment, I was damn sure that Cole was capable.
“Just watch yourself,” he said, then walked away.
“Cole!”
He turned back, his finger held up, his expression so tight I knew he was fighting an explosion.
And then he turned away again and stalked off.
I couldn’t decide if I was pissed that he hadn’t told me the problem, or relieved that he hadn’t pummeled me into dust.
Either way, I wanted to ask Tyler what was going on. I knew that he’d arrived about a half hour before, so hurried to his office and pushed through the door. “What the hell is up with Cole?” I began, but the dark expression on Tyler’s face chilled me.
“What’s up with Cole?” Tyler repeated, bursting to his feet, his face a portrait of anger and hurt. “Maybe the better question is what the hell is up with you.”
“Jesus, you too?” I snapped as confusion and a sick feeling pounded over me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Cole saw you,” he said. “You’re working with Kevin Warner, that goddamn prick. I trusted you. Hell, Sloane, I love you. How the hell could you—”
“You son of a bitch.” I was beyond furious, and my words came out low and harsh and cold. “You goddamn son of a bitch. You really believe I would betray you? That I was working with Kevin? He’s been dogging me, Tyler. Trying to get me to find dirt on you. And all I’ve done is tell him that you’re clean. I compromised my own fucking values to tell him you’re clean.”
I stalked to his desk and ripped open the drawer. I pulled out the envelope and tossed it in his face. “There. That’s what he has on you. I thought you might find it useful in case you wanted to clean up whatever goddamn mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Fuck,” I added, then slammed my fist down on the desk. “I’m not Amanda, Tyler. I didn’t run to the cops. I’m not betraying you.”
But I couldn’t stay, and without another look back, I ran from the room, grabbed my purse from my locker, and headed back to The Drake, not even bothering to change my clothes.
The shorts and bra-top got a few stares, but I barely noticed, I was still seething too much.
And it wasn’t until I reached the penthouse and was in the bedroom digging workout clothes out of my drawer, that I realized the irony. I’d come here. To the penthouse.
I’d been pissed, and I’d come home. And to me, home was where Tyler was.
How fucked up was that?
I changed into leggings and a sports bra, then called down to the front desk to find out the location of the fitness center. As it turned out, the tenth floor had its own, and I found it easily enough, and was grateful to see it had a punching bag.
I quickly taped my hands, then shoved on some gloves. Then I started to beat the shit out of a bag while a skinny man in headphones jogged on the treadmill, occasionally shooting me concerned glances. I wasn’t surprised. If that bag had been a man, he’d have been dead, several times over.