Silence loomed between them. He wasn’t letting her off the hook. She felt like everyone in the park was looking at them and began to imagine murmurs. People in the stands close to them even turned to watch.
Suddenly, Nina realised she wasn’t imagining it. Looking up, she caught their reflection on the scoreboard. She and Josh were posted in stunning clarity on the big screen.
Her stomach dropped. Oh, dear Lord, no.
The Kiss Cam.
Hoots and hollers rang up loud around them, and she did the only thing she could think of doing. She lifted her programme in front of her face and hid.
She was a self-assured, sophisticated woman who didn’t need the attention the selfies crowd seemed to crave these days. Luxxor was known for being discreet. She didn’t advertise her company. The last thing she needed was her face plastered on a fifty-foot-high LED screen.
But then the detective moved in his seat.
He caught her wrist and slowly pushed the programme down. His hand slipped into her hair, and he cupped the back of her head. Their gazes caught as he leaned in.
Nina couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. She heard the commotion around them surge as his lips covered hers.
But then all she could do was feel.
She closed her eyes as sensation bombarded her. The kiss he planted on her was slow, intimate and thorough. The heat built slowly, sexily, until her resistance melted into thin air. Her programme slipped out of her hand. She leaned into him, and a sound left the back of his throat. He sealed their mouths together as his other hand caught her waist. She reached for him and her hand settled on his jawline. The crisp feel of his five o’clock shadow couldn’t have contrasted more with the soft strands of his hair brushing against her fingertips. She wanted to touch more. She wanted to feel more.
He pulled her closer, and the armrest dug into her stomach. If not for it, he would have had her on his lap, and she wouldn’t have minded.
He felt so good.
He made her feel good. Aroused. Safe. Connected. Awakened.
Around them, the joking laughs turned to embarrassed gasps. The hoots and catcalls became wolf-whistles, but it was the collective sigh that ran throughout the whole of Nationals Park that finally got through Nina’s clouded head.
She wasn’t safe. This was foolish, risky … dangerous.
She pulled back sharply, but his hold on her tightened.
‘Don’t.’ He lifted the programme again to hide both of them.
Her breath came hard as she looked into his dark eyes. She could feel his own against her face and her lips. She licked them to stop the tingling, but his gaze dropped with the motion. He kissed her again, hard and fast.
Hoots rose in volume again, and, even with the programme hiding them, the Kiss Cam operator finally realised he’d focused on a kiss unsuitable for a family-friendly audience.
Nina pushed away and found her hand against Morgan’s chest. He was warm and hard. The strength beneath her fingertips could have scared her, but it lured her even more.
She yanked her hand away and turned her head. His lips brushed against her temple. His hand was still tangled in her hair, but she felt his hold gentle. He was slow in letting her go, and his fingertips almost seemed to caress the back of her head and then the tight muscles of her neck, but then she was free.
Nina’s heart beat in her chest so hard, she could hear it in her ears. Her breaths raked her throat, but she forced them to shorten. She sat up straighter and smoothed her rumpled jacket.
This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all.
She swept her fingers over her mouth to tidy up any smudged lipstick, but discovered she had none left. She uncrossed her legs and put both feet square on the ground.
‘Nina,’ Morgan said in warning.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said politely, ‘but it’s getting late, and I have an early morning.’
‘Come on, Nina. That’s been coming for a long time, and we both know it.’
She zipped up her purse and tucked her hair behind her ear. He was still leaning towards her, getting in her space. She could feel the people seated around them leaning in, too, trying to hear.
‘I really need to go.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘The deal was for a game.’
She glanced at the scoreboard. Her scorecard was way behind now. ‘It’s the seventh inning. The game is official.’
‘You agreed to ride with me.’
‘To the game. Mr Howard can pick me up.’ She pulled her phone from the side pocket of her purse and began to text her security night detail. Her fingers were steady as a surgeon’s, but her forearms were clenched so tight they ached. ‘Please, stay and enjoy the rest of the game. Your ticket will get you into the post-game media interviews, too.’
‘Nina.’ Morgan’s voice like a rock against slate. His hand was in her hair again as he made her look him in the eye.
He could see right to the heart of her.
‘You don’t want to run from me.’
No, one should never turn their back on a predator.
‘I appreciate what you did for Rielle.’ She stood smoothly. ‘Thank you for inviting me, Detective.’
The low sound that emerged from his chest was practically a growl.
‘Josh,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘Yes, we can.’
‘No. We can’t.’
He let her past him, and disappointed sounds emerged from the crowd who’d witnessed it all.
Nina felt the weight of their stares as she walked confidently but quickly to the exit. She could feel the disappointment of all the strangers around her, but it didn’t come close to the regret she felt deep inside her chest.
Her body ached with arousal. Her lips felt puffy, and her fingers craved more than the brief touches they’d stolen. This had been it, her one little bit of self-indulgence. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin.
After tonight, she’d never see him again.
She’d been trying to push Josh Morgan off her trail for a long time now. She was pretty sure she’d finally accomplished her goal. And it was for the best. For everybody.
No matter how much it hurt.
Josh rode the elevator up to the seventh floor of the Emissary Hotel, glaring at the numbers as they ticked off with a merry chime. It had been one o’clock in the morning when his phone had started ringing.
One stinking o’clock.
He rarely did ‘merry’, and never at this hour.
He twisted his neck to the side and heard a satisfying crack. This is what he got for being a nice guy – although others might argue with that assessment. He hadn’t been in a good mood for a while now, with good cause. He ran a hand over his face and straightened from the railing against which he’d been leaning. He didn’t work the night shift, but he’d been called in. Whatever it was, it better be worth his time.
The happy elevator finally arrived at its destination, and he glowered