Mr. CEO(121)

His joke breaks the tension, and we laugh, heading back to the car to drop off my stuff before enjoying the rest of the night. “Okay, let's enjoy the night.”





Chapter 18





Jackson





Despite Katrina's kind offer to share the bed with me, I sleep like shit. It's not that the bed is too soft, or too hard, or anything like that. The room's nice enough, and the air conditioner works fine.

The problem is Katrina. I wake up three times in the night, each time in a cold sweat worried that something is wrong with her, looking around. I lie back, trying my best to relax and not wake her, but I can't help it, and I toss and turn for a while before dropping off into a light, disturbed sleep again.

My mind keeps whirling with images from last night, of her smile as she and I walked along Ocean Drive, or the way she enjoyed the Cuban food we had together, and especially how beautiful she was in her new skirt. Finally, at five in the morning, I give up and turn over, peeking over the blanket we've rolled up and placed between us, watching Katrina in the early morning sunlight. She really does have the face of an angel, and in sleep the constant tension she carries almost all the time is gone, making her look softer, more vulnerable, and achingly beautiful.

I think back to that moment, right before the call from her friend Darcy, when we were so close. Was I making the move to kiss her, or was she? I know I wanted to, and at that moment I'd have been willing to risk a shattered nose or a broken arm to kiss her.

As the morning light brightens our hotel room slowly, I calm myself by studying Katrina's face. Okay, fine, I'll admit it to myself. I have feelings for her. In fact, they're more than just feelings. And as much as my cock stirs at the thought of her touching me the way she did in the limo, I want to hold her and protect her. Even though I know that if the zombie apocalypse ever does break out, she's probably the one who'd end up protecting me. I want to give her the happiness that's been denied her life for so long, and I want to see her smile more like she did before she got that phone call.

Katrina stirs, a little smile coming to her features, and she opens her eyes, seeing me looking at her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I answer. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than you did,” she replies, reaching over and taking my hand. “You tossed and turned a lot.”

“Sorry,” I apologize, thrilled by the touch of her hand in mine. “Did I disturb you?”

She shakes her head and gives me a soft smile that sends warmth flooding my chest. I'd kill for this woman at this very moment if she asks me. “No, I was okay. Actually, I've slept a lot worse than tonight. My first few weeks in the loft, I had a hell of a problem with rats and mice.”

“Oh? The place looked spotless every time I've been there.”

Katrina nods and her smile becomes a little more predatory. “You'd be surprised what you can do when you sleep light and you have a decent pellet gun by your side. That was before I got my Glock.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “So what's the plan?”

“Breakfast, then we head down to Coral Gables,” she says. “It's going to be a long day. I'd prefer to not just kick in someone's front door without some sort of verification.”

Our first stop is, in fact, a Burger King, where we get breakfast sandwiches and talk. “So my plan was to use the Metro today,” Katrina says as we munch. Burger King does at least have decent tater tots, although I think the sandwich itself sucks. “I mapped out the address the other day, there's a station just a few blocks away. I think it'll make our work a lot easier and less conspicuous.”

“If you think so,” I say, sipping at my drink. “What about sun and heat?”

“We'll stop at a 7-11 or something like that, and stay mobile,” Katrina replies easily. “Also, I was thinking, on the way is a shopping mall. They've got to have a sporting goods store, so we'll stop and get a pair of binoculars or a spotting scope or something. Something small, so we can still look inconspicuous.”

“You seem to know a lot about doing surveillance on places,” I note, and Katrina grins. “Wait, don't tell me... you did ninja training, too?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No, but I did intern with a private investigator for a summer. I didn't do a lot, mostly made sure he stayed awake during night stakeouts, oh and one time I acted as a plant for him as he was working a divorce case. Seems the husband supposedly had a taste for teen girls.”

“Did he?”

“Maybe, but never for me. That was where I met the girl who taught me the Touches, and you know how useful those are.”