He could know something useful, though.

This man might be able to give me rare insight into my investigation. Or help me. If I want the managing editor at the Times to take me seriously, I have to bring her a story. I’ve been trying to piece together this bombshell piece for weeks and today, I most likely had my suspicions confirmed. Deputy Mayor is the mole who has been feeding harmful information to Crouch, giving him ammunition for his feud with the mayor. But even after seeing them together today—and on friendly terms—I still only have smoke and mirrors. A theory.

And a sandwich cart with wheels.

A cart that I push through the corridors of the Times, serving hoagies to the real reporters. I don’t want to do it anymore.

I want to be a writer and I don’t want to quit halfway this time.

Before I think better of it, I curl my fist in the front of Hercules’s sweatshirt and pull him forward, not missing the lump that moves up and down in his throat.

“You haven’t told us your name yet,” I say quietly, caught off guard by the invisible feather that drags along the lowest regions of my belly.

He takes a deep breath while his eyes trace the part of my hair. “Gabe Gatlin.”

“Gabe.” My lord, his voice is deep. “I’m Elise.” Suddenly, I’m second guessing my intention to finesse information out of this giant, but it’s too late to turn back now because my breasts meet his chest. “You’ll keep me warm?”

His swallow is loud in my ear, his arms coming up around me, locking me close to his powerful bulk. “Yes, please.”

Chapter Two

It’s very silent now that Gabe’s arms are around me.

Silent except for the loud rapping of his heartbeat near my ear.

I’m not going to lie, I forget my ulterior motive for several long moments, the ample heat of his big body sinking into mine and ceasing my shivers. He smells like a construction site—sawdust and paint and coffee—and somehow I know that going forward, I will always associate those smells with warmth and comfort. I’m almost cross-eyed at the sudden rush of heat to my bones and before I can stop myself, I melt against him a little, seeking more.

I don’t even get annoyed when he sniffs my head.

“She…Elise…asked us what we’re doing on the island,” Banks says briskly after a full minute. It’s impossible not to notice the deeper resonance to his tone. It’s either resigned due to my choice of Gabe for warmth…or irritated. Or both. “Would anyone like to share with the class?”

“I came for some routine acupuncture,” Tobias says, followed by a brief sniff.

Lie. I’m pretty good at determining when someone isn’t telling the truth. It’s what led me to the field of reporting. And that subtle hitch in his tone has my eyes flying open. When did I close them? Actually, am I drooling on this guy’s sweatshirt? Not quite, but I’m close. “You came all the way out here for acupuncture? Why couldn’t you see an acupuncturist in Manhattan?”