Page 83 of Diego

“What?” When he's close enough, I snatch my panties out of his hand, and he lets me.

“The owner will never know.”

I give him a disbelieving look. “You cannot possibly guarantee that.”

“I can.”

“How?”

“I will handle it.”

Four simple words.

I look away and pile everything onto one of the stools. “This place needs to be fixed up.”

“It will be.”

“More than that. It needs to look exactly the way it looked before we came in.”

“It will.”

I turn toward him. “You keep saying things like that as though you have a team of magical people waiting to erase terrible decisions.”

“They’re not magical.”

My eyes narrow. “So you just have people on your payroll to clean up the evidence of your sexcapades?”

His grin is slow and wicked. The way my body reacts, it has to be illegal. He can't be real.

“Sexcapades?” he says, amused.

“Yes. Sexcapades.” I slip the panties on under the blanket, careful not to drop it. “And if you repeat that word, I will deny ever saying it.”

“I like it. It makes it sound… acrobatic.”

I turn my back to him and slip my arms through the straps of my bra, fumbling with the clasp for a second before getting it fastened.

“The sheets need to be changed. The bed remade. The kitchen… sanitized. Everything put back exactly where it was.”

“It will be.”

I grab my shirt next and shove one arm into a sleeve. “And I mean exactly, Diego. I do not want the seller walking in here and wondering why anything looks different.”

“He won’t.”

I glance at him while buttoning the shirt. “How can you be sure?”

“I pay my magical elves very well.”

I drop my arms with a sigh. “Diego.”

“Blair.” He mimics my tone. “The owner will never know. I swear it.”

I press my fingers against my forehead. “This is a nightmare.”

“It was considerably more enjoyable from my perspective.”

My hand drops. “Do you ever stop?”