I caught Parker’s eye. I didn’t need to make a face—one glance and it seemed she understood me completely. Just as I knew she was fighting not to wrinkle her nose in disdain. Fairchild was some piece of work. Not only did he have zero social awareness, he actually gloated over it.

All through the miserable dinner with him, I kept myself sane by imagining the various ways I could punch him in the face—a right cross, an uppercut, a one-two combo. Juvenile, maybe. But definitely satisfying. One day, I promised myself for the thousandth time, I’d see that he got what was coming to him.

There was no way I’d let him get away with being such an utter fuckwank to Parker.

Parker.

Hell. I started to sweat, lust rising like a heat wave.

We’d spent all night in bed. Fucking. Laughing. Fucking again. We’d fall asleep, then one of us would wake, reach for the other, and it would start up all over again.

I’d never had a more perfect night. I’d never laughed like that in bed, just for the joy of it. Parker made me happy. Free in a way I’d never been. She was also the tastiest, most luscious little …

“You’re getting that look again,” she murmured at my side.

My fingers threaded through hers, and I stroked her knuckles. “What look?”

Her lids lowered demurely as her lips pursed. I wanted to kiss those lips, lick my way into her hot, sweet mouth. “You know.”

Yeah, I knew. It was the “I want to fuck you so bad, I hurt” look. I was pretty sure I’d be wearing that look all the time now. Biting back a grin, I tried to focus on Fairchild, still yammering on about another piece of weaponry.

Don’t get me wrong—they were beautiful pieces. And if they were owned by anyone else, I might have been more interested. As it was, though, I just wanted out of there. If I couldn’t take Parker to bed, I’d settle for a walk with her and some fresh air.

Anything, as long as we were alone.

“And this,” Fairchild said, moving on to a big, glass case filled with sand, “is my newest edition to the collection.”

Jackson and his fiancée trailed along, obviously dragging their feet. He shot me a quick, pained look, and I empathized. We were all in hell together. I had no idea what sort of weapon Fairchild would keep in sand, but I obligingly led Parker to the case.

When my eyes finally fell on the object in question, I found myself balking.

“Is that …” Parker trailed off, her hushed whisper holding a hint of garbled laughter.

I stared at the stripped snake coiled in the case, and my lips twitched. “It’s a sand snake.”