“No one leaves Mendez on their terms. Why do you think I contract only for my clients? So they don’t own me, Kara.”

“Mendez doesn’t own me.”

“He does. You just don’t know it yet. Or else you know something I don’t know, and I’m leaning in that direction.” A knock sounded on the door and Kara almost jumped. “That would be our pizza,” Blake said. “Not my ‘crew’.” He reached up and gently slid her hair behind her ear, then leaned in close, his lips brushing her earlobe. “I’m not buying your life story and, one way or the other, be it you telling me, or me finding out on my own, I’m going to discover the truth.” He stepped away from her and walked toward the door.

Kara stared after him, barely able to breathe, frozen in place. Time stood still and her mind raced. She was in so much trouble with Blake, it would take a shovel and ten men she didn’t have to dig her out.

“Kara, can you grab the drinks?” Blake called from the door.

Grab the drinks? That snapped her back to reality. She was in a t-shirt and nothing else. Kara scurried to peek around the corner to find the door angled so that Blake’s body blocked her from view.

“I’m here,” she said, and he handed her two liters of soda. Kara rushed away from the view of the door as he called out, “Order some ice, will you?”

Ice. Right. Kara set the drinks on the nightstand and headed to the desk. By the time she called downstairs, Blake was placing the pizza boxes on the bed, inspecting the contents of each. It was an odd moment to Kara, as if they were some normal couple sharing a hotel snack. And she was going along with it, as if she didn’t know he was going to discover who she was, and then she’d be dead.

***

He’d slept with the enemy and now he was eating pizza with the enemy. On a bed. With her leaned against the headboard, her long, sexy legs stretched out beside his, hers crossed at the ankle. And she was wearing only his shirt. Which he liked her in a little too much.