The banging began again, and we both looked up. The woman began to yelp, and a low moan filtered through the ceiling—a man’s voice.

Thomas covered his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“Someone has a woman in your condo?”

“My brother,” he groaned.

“Which one?”

“Taylor. He’s staying here for a few days. He texted me, wondering why I wasn’t at home. I left here to meet him upstairs, but when I got there, he was pissed about something and didn’t want to sit at the condo. So, I took him over to Cutter’s. Agent Davies was there, and—”

I pointed to the ceiling. “That’s Agent Davies?”

Thomas nodded his head.

“Oh, thank God,” I said, covering my eyes with my hand.

He frowned. “Huh?”

“Nothing.”

Davies cried out.

I shook my head and pointed to the door. “You’ve got to tell them to quit that shit. I have to get some sleep.”

Thomas nodded again. “Yeah. I’ll go.” He turned for the door, but then he stopped, flipped around, and pointed at me. “You thought that was me. You were pissed.”

I made a face. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you were. Admit it.”

“So what if I was?”

“Why were you mad?” he asked, his eyes begging me for something.

“Because it’s three a.m., and I should be sleeping.”

“Bullshit.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

I knew exactly what he meant, and he knew that I was trying to play dumb.

He smiled. “You thought that was me banging some chick from the bar, and you were mad at me. You were jealous.”

After several seconds of being unable to come back with a believable response, I blurted out, “So?”

Thomas raised his chin and then reached behind him to grip the doorknob. “Good night, Liis.”

I maintained the dirtiest look I could until he shut the door, and then I walked over to the broom, scooped it up, and pushed the chair back to the table.

After a minute or so, the yelping and banging stopped.

I trudged to my room, stripped off my clothes, and slipped on a T-shirt before falling into the bed.

Not only did I not hate Thomas, I liked him. Worse than that, he knew it.

Chapter Eleven

I FLIPPED MY WRIST OVER TO CHECK MY WATCH, cursing myself for sleeping in. After poking a pair of fake diamond studs into the holes in my ears, I slipped on my heels, grabbed my purse, and opened the door.

Thomas stood there with a Styrofoam cup in each hand. “Coffee?”

I pulled the door closed and twisted the key in the lock. “Is there milk in that coffee?” I asked.

“Nope. Six sugars and a two creamers.”

“How do you know how I take my coffee?” I asked, taking the cup he’d pushed toward me.

We walked together to the elevator, and Thomas pressed the button.

“Constance.”