Page 47 of Diego

I look around the penthouse again, at the expensive furniture, the windows, and the view.

There are worse places to be trapped.

I look back at Diego. “You have security outside?” I should've known that.

“Yes. They can’t get into the building right now, but they have eyes on the exits.”

That answer is so matter-of-fact that I almost ask what exactly his security usually does during real estate showings, but I decide this is probably not the moment.

The automated message sounds again overhead.

I exhale and set my bag back down.

“Well,” I say, looking around the penthouse, “I suppose this is one way to test whether the place is comfortable for longer than an hour.”

Diego’s mouth curves. “Very thorough showing.”

“I like to provide a full-service experience.”

His smile deepens. “I’m starting to see that.”

Diego’s gaze shifts toward the bottle of wine the owner left behind, and he reaches for it. “We might as well give this a taste.”

I look at the label. “Doesn’t that need to sit out for a little while?”

“Yes,” he says, already searching in the drawers for a corkscrew, “but it’ll do the job just as well right away.”

“The job?” I ask, amused.

He glances at me as he finds one. “Of making this wait go by much more pleasantly.”

I smile despite myself and follow him into the kitchen. “You seem very comfortable making yourself at home in a place you don’t own.”

“Yet,” he says as he pops the cork out.

I glance at him.

He opens one cabinet, then another, and finds a row of wine glasses in the third. “There we are.”

“Convenient.”

“All good houses should anticipate emergencies.”

I laugh. “I don’t think this is what they had in mind.”

“Then they lacked imagination.”

He sets two glasses on the island and pours just enough into each to be respectable. The wine is darker than I expect, almost opaque in the bowl of the glass, and the smell reaches me before I even have it in my hand.

Diego hands it over. “To electrical fires.”

I lift a brow. “That feels like tempting fate.”

“To very small electrical fires.”

“That is not better.”

His mouth curves. “Fine. To competent firefighters.”