Page 24 of Not Safe for Work

His expression collapses into some hidden version of Rafe I’ve never seen before. It’s vulnerable and imploring. “Just trust me.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing.”

My eyes grow so wide that I feel the edges of my eyelids scrape at my patience.

“Oh, that’s very helpful. Why are you being even more annoying than usual tonight?”

The Rafe of a moment ago vanishes. He dons his cape and twirls his mustache, resuming his starring role as the villain in my story.

I take a step back, hitting the wall behind me and pressing a finger to his chest. His very hard and very sculpted chest. Focus.

“Look, we may be stuck here for the next three weeks, and we might have to share a room, but I want you to stay out of my way. I don’t know what you’re doing, but I want no part of your dick-waving contest. Leave me alone. Is that understood?”

Rafe’s fists ball at his sides as he looms over me like a very sexy but very angry tower. For some reason, I think of a tarot card reading I once did and how the woman with her fake plastic jewelry told me the Tower represents chaos and destruction.

I don’t wait for an answer as I slip around him and return to the table, where Andy is still waiting. But Rafe spoiled any possibility of a good mood, and my headache has reached decibel ten. “Sorry. I’m going to have to take a rain check on that walk. Maybe some other time,” I say.

“Sure,” Andy says. “Do you need help getting to your room?”

I pause, wondering if he’s being chivalrous, but Rafe’s warning about Andy has taken up rent in my mind. Can I trust him? Rafe is making me doubt my judgment. And that, more than anything, is the icing on tonight’s layer cake of annoying.

Regardless, I’ve had enough of men in general tonight.

“I’m good, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

I catch Lan’s eye and wave goodbye, but not before delivering one last withering look at Rafe. He’s standing in the corner watching me with a satisfied twist to his mouth.

I know it’s childish, but I mouth the words I hate you as I exit the bar and return to my room.

Chapter Seven

The next morning, I lie in bed, listening for evidence of Rafe on the other side of the door. He returned shortly after I did last night, and I opted for the mature response—locking myself in the bedroom and calling down to the front desk, begging for another suite.

I tried to explain to the nice people at the Naupaka Resort that they don’t want a murder investigation tainting their property. Apparently, they didn’t take my threat seriously because here I still am.

Meanwhile, Belinda is ignoring all of my many emails and phone calls, so I’m stuck.

I shower and dress in a pale pink sleeveless button-up, grey pencil skirt, and my favorite black heels. When I’m sure Rafe has vacated the suite, I head downstairs for breakfast. As I wait for my order, I scroll through my phone, and Molly’s name pops up on FaceTime. I stuff in my earbuds and answer.

“Morning,” she chirps. “How are you?”

I blow out my cheeks. “Give me a minute.”

I fill up my plate from the buffet and find a secluded table in the corner, propping my phone against the saltshaker. Then, I recount every gory detail from last night. When I’m done, she’s wearing a grin so wide I can see every one of her teeth.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I’m just happy you and Rafe are getting along so well.”

I snort and take a bite of my eggs. “I wanted to strangle him.”

She nods solemnly, but her smile can barely be contained.

“What is up with you?” I ask. “You’re trying not to say something.”

“Nothing. Interesting news about Hannah, though.”