He noticed I was watching him and the same smirk from before remained. “Cream?”
“Yes. No sugar.” While I’d been hiding, he’d placed my phone on the nightstand.
“You seem extremely fascinated with my art.” He flexed his arm, holding it out so I could get a better look at his forearm.
“The tats are beautiful. What do they represent?”
“Two family crests. My mother’s and my father’s. This one is from a drawing my brother created.”
“When did you get them?”
He didn’t say anything as he brought me the coffee, remaining standing as he held out the mug. As before, when our fingers collided, I shuddered, but shut down the sensations before he paid attention.
When I glanced into his eyes, it was clear he was searching mine for answers. The truth. Would it set us free or provide another obstacle that would never be penetrable? I didn’t have the answer and certainly couldn’t ask him.
He returned to the cart, pouring himself a cup. “Before I turned eighteen.”
“A lovely gesture to your family.”
His silence was as unnerving as his demand I tell him the truth. He lifted a silver dome, selecting a huge ripe strawberry. With deliberate steps, he walked to the bedside, staring down at me with authoritative eyes. “Open your mouth, Fallon.”
I did so without question. Navarro cocked his head and slipped a portion of the fresh fruit inside, inhaling when I took a bite.
Juice trickled past my lips and I giggled. The taste was so sweet, the piece of fruit juicier than any I’d had in LA. “Dewicious,” I butchered as I chewed.
His smirk was adorable. Using his pinky, he wiped the string of juice from my chin before it dropped off, bringing the tip of his finger to his mouth. Even the way he sucked was seductive.
I took the remaining piece from his hand, never allowing my eyes to leave his.
There was something extremely mesmerizing about his intense stare.
“I did so because my family was murdered in cold blood.” The striking lack of emotion was borderline terrifying. Either he didn’t care about what had happened with his parents or he’d compartmentalized their deaths, turning into a killer to help in his healing process. I was inclined to think it was the latter.
The awkward silence was as nerve-racking as he wanted to make it.
Without thinking, I gripped his hand, squeezing as I thought of what to say. “I’m so sorry, Navarro. I know what it’s like to lose something you both love and depend on. Time does nothing to completely heal the wound, but it does provide clarity.”
“An excellent word to use. Clarity.” He looked away, his deep sigh cutting through me. “Clarity can also provide truth, but only for those willing to suffer through the memories all over again.”
I shuddered from his words, but he was right. I took several sips of coffee as another round of silence settled in.
“What’s in the bags?” Neither one of us was ready for that moment of truth, at least not to the extent perhaps we both needed. Maybe this was a simple, impractical fairytale that I wanted to hang around for a little longer.
“Clothes,” he said casually, but his wistful grin had returned. “While I very much appreciate the gorgeous dress you were wearing, it’ll be impractical during your stay.”
“You mean during my incarceration.”
He didn’t blink as he approached, taking his time to sip his coffee. I’d never felt so uncomfortable as I did with the way he was looking at me.
“I’m curious, Fallon. How much do you earn for a painting?”
“It depends on the size. Why?”
“Because you have little to your name, Fallon. Your bank accounts are almost empty. Your credit cards are maxed out, yet you easily managed a flight to Mexico and are staying at the Ritz Carlton. Should I assume you flew first class? I find that interesting you’d stay at such an upscale hotel when so worried about your sister.”
“If you’re trying to ruffle me, you failed. I sold several paintings just before I left at a gallery showing I’d been asked to participate in. To be honest with you, I’ve read all about the mishaps in Mexico. I know all about the crime and from what I’d seen and heard, it’s much worse than I’d thought. I wanted to be safe, Navarro. So I splurged on a room. That’s it. Not that I need to explain myself to you, but I certainly didn’t fly first class. I was jammed up against a dude who smelled like a garlic factory, sweating like a pig since he weighed somewhere in the neighborhood of five hundred pounds. Certainly not your style of flying.”
The man could easily push my buttons every time. And I allowed him to do so. That irritated the hell out of me.
