This goddess thinks I have a sexy chin.
I go to put her down, but she immediately stumbles and starts to fall. I swing her back into my arms and glance up. Indecision reigns through me.
I watch the figure in black walk further away, increasing the distance between us.
I’ve been following Ivan Sokolov for days, after even more spent tracking him down. If I lose him now, it’s going to put me behind schedule. I planned on nabbing him in a few hours.
The girl in my arms moves to follow my gaze, but winces, and grabs the back of her head.
I look down at her and realize she must’ve hit her head.
One last glance up at his retreating form, indecision wars within me.
A light groan of pain brings my gaze swinging back to her. To this beauty that I’m holding.
I glance at Ivan and curse when he turns a corner, then I look back down at the siren in my arms.
Nothing comes between me and my work. Nobody does. Certainly not a stranger who I have no intentions of interacting with. No matter how enchanting she is.
But she’s too tempting to ignore.
I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking, but I can’t put her down. She’s hurt.She needs me.
“I want to lick the tattoos on his neck.” She sighs, and her eyes flutter closed as a heart-stopping giggle escapes her lips.
Fuck. She probably has a concussion. She can’t fall asleep.
“Sunshine, I need you to open your eyes for me,” I say in a gentle tone I didn’t even know I was capable of. It just came out naturally for her.
Slowly, her lids flutter, and her face scrunches in concentration as she pries them open.
“Yes, sir,” she whispers, and my body reacts immediately.
My cock springs to life as my blood boils. I grind my teeth.
This is not the right time. I don’t get off on concussed women. She probably doesn’t even know what she’s saying.
But I bet she doesn’t go around saying ‘yes, sir’ to every man she sees. Or telling him she wants to lick his tattoos.
Then her eyes glance at my neck and the ink peaking from the collar of my shirt, and she licks her lips.
Fuck.
Why is she doing this to me?
When her eyes start to droop again, I give her a slight jostle.
“What’s your name?” I ask, trying to keep her talking to stay awake.
“Cecilia María Álvarez Rivera.” She thrusts her hand in my face, as if to shake for introduction. I adjust my hold on her to one arm, which is quite easy with how light she is, and I shake her hand with my now free one. Tingles shoot up my arms at the contact, and she sighs again. “You can call me Celia.”
“Is that what your friends call you?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going as I turn into an alley, not wanting to cause a scene. Holding an incoherent woman in the middle of the sidewalk may raise suspicion. Not that I’ve done anything wrong.
Some man knocked into her, and she landed in my arms. I didn’t even mean to catch her, but instinct kicked in.
“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’, smacking those luscious lips. “No one’s ever called me that. Mi mamá calls me Cecisita. And the rest of my family calls me Ceci María. My friends just call me Cecilia. But Celia… no one calls me Celia.” She gasps in excitement. “No, that’s not true anymore. You, my sexy héroe, can call me Celia. It’ll be your name for me. Just for you.”
Just for you.
