Page 33 of Risky Obsession
“We could spoon? It’ll be warmer.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
I just about swallowed my tongue. “Just keep on your own side, and I’ll stay on mine. Trust me, you touch me once and you’ll regret it.”
My voice betrayed my seriousness.
“What if I touch you by accident? I mean, look at this tiny bed?”
I raised my finger. “No touching.”
He burst out laughing.
It was difficult to maintain the facade of Tory, the innocent treasure hunter, when my cop instincts were blaring at me that sharing this bed was a bad idea.
“Suit yourself,” Kane replied with a shrug. “Don’t blame me if your tits are freezing at three a.m.”
“My tits will be just fine.”
“I can see that.” He lowered his gaze to my chest.
I followed his gaze and just about died. My damn nipples were sticking out of my T-shirt like a pair of frozen cherries.
Shit!
I marched to my jacket and pulled it back on.
“I don’t suppose you’re hungry?” he said.
“Sure, and I need a drink.” I yanked my jacket zipper up so fast it was a wonder the thing didn’t snap off.
“Cool.” He grabbed his phone and opened the door. “After you, Miss Treasure Hunter.”
His stunning smile made my knees buckle.
Attempting to return the smile, I squeezed past him.
I had a feeling this undercover job was going to be much harder than taking down the asshole who ruined my life.
CHAPTER8
Kane
The warm interior of the German pub provided instant relief from the cold and biting wind racing up the steep street outside. Tory and I found a well-worn, wooden table at the back of the pub, away from the ten or so other patrons in the dimly lit bar.
“Oh yay, this menu has English descriptions,” Tory said as she scanned the menu. “Hmmm, should I have the bratwurst and sauerkraut? Or maybe the Wiener Schnitzel?”
“Bratwurst sounds good.” My stomach rumbled at the thought of the savory sausage. “And a couple of pints of beer to wash it down.”
“Good idea.” She slid the menu to the side.
I signaled to the waitress, who approached our table with a welcoming smile. “Hallo, was kann ich für Sie tun?”
“Do you speak English?” I grinned at the young woman.
“Yes. What would you like?” Her English was excellent.
“Fantastic. I would like the Bratwurst. What about you, Tory?”
“The schnitzel for me.” Tory scooped her hair around her ears, revealing a moon earring in one ear and a star in the other. The mismatch suited her.