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Twisted Lies (Twisted #4)(59)

Author:Ana Huang

I should’ve known that wouldn’t fool him. “Nervous?” he asked, eerily astute as usual. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “A little.” A lot. Could Delamonte fire me for incompetence in the middle of the campaign? I have to talk to Brady and go over the contract again. Maybe they’ll think they made a mistake and hire Raya instead or— “Don’t be. You’ll do great.” “You have too much confidence in me.” “You have too little.” His voice was closer this time, a velvet touch against the bare skin of my neck and shoulders. I turned, my pulse skipping a beat at his proximity.

I’ve never wanted someone more, and I’ve never hated myself more for it. The memory of his words sparked like electricity between us. His eyes flared with something bright and hot before they dimmed again, and my heart returned to its normal rhythm. “We leave tomorrow morning at eight.” Christian nodded at my luggage. “I’ll hire a sherpa for you.” “You’re exaggerating. I’m not taking that much stuff.” Two large suitcases, one duffel bag, and one tote seemed perfectly reasonable for three days in Hawaii. “We’ll agree to disagree. On a security-related note…”

Christian’s dry amusement faded into something more serious. “The Hawaii shoot isn’t a secret, but I still want you to hold off on posting you’re there until we’re back in D.C.” My stomach swooped for a whole other reason. Between Christian’s confession, my family dinner, and preparing for the shoot, I’d pushed worries about my stalker to the back of my mind. Now they came roaring back in one giant wave. “Do we have any leads yet?” I hadn’t asked him for regular updates. The more I focused on it, the more anxious I got, but I couldn’t resist this time around. “Nothing concrete, but we’re getting there. He might not follow you to Hawaii, but it’s better safe than sorry.” “Right.” I rubbed a thumb over my crystal necklace. “Right.” Christian’s face softened. “Everything will work out, with the shoot and the stalker. Trust me.” That was the scary part. I did. “Get some rest. We have a long flight tomorrow,” he said. “And Stella? Leave the unicorn.” “I wasn’t planning on taking him,” I grumbled at Christian’s departing back. After he left, I set Mr. Unicorn back on his perch near my bed. “We’ll visit Hawaii together another time,” I told him regretfully. He was my trusty companion whenever I traveled solo, but since Christian was joining me, I didn’t need to bring him. I just liked having a bit of familiarity when I visited new places. I finished packing. My emotions swung from excitement to dread to nervousness

and back again, but I felt better knowing Christian would be with me. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered again at the thought of three days in paradise with him. It was a work trip, but still. I had a strange sense whatever happened in Hawaii would change my life.

29

STELLA/CHRISTIAN

Stella

Christian and I arrived in Kauai past dinnertime the next night. Instead of venturing to the hotel’s restaurant, which would take too much effort, we ordered room service and settled in the villa’s living room. True to form, Christian had taken one look at the room Delamonte booked for me and upgraded us to the last remaining villa. I snuck a peek at him as we ate in companionable silence. He lounged against his side of the couch, looking infuriatingly sexy with his rumpled shirt and tousled hair. Neither of us looked our best after traveling all day, but his dishevelment only made him hotter, not less. “Like what you see?” he drawled. “Yes.” I made a point of looking around the gorgeous villa. It boasted stunning views of the Pacific, and the living room opened onto a furnished lanai, which in turn led directly to our private beach. “This place is stunning.” That wasn’t what he was asking, but there was no need to inflate his ego. He knew I knew he was hot, so what was the point of saying it? Christian’s knowing laugh warmed my stomach like decadent hot chocolate. There was a certain magic in seeing him outside the confines of D.C. Like at Dante’s dinner, he’d slipped into a more relaxed version of himself. No suit, easy laughter. “I like this version of you.” I held my mug close to my mouth. “You’re more…” I searched for the right word. “Approachable.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Am I?” “Let’s put it this way. D.C. Christian looks like he would murder you if you cut him off in traffic. Hawaii Christian looks like he would give you a ride if he saw your car broken down on the side of the road.” The rich sound of his amusement filled the corners of the room once more. “We’ve been in Hawaii for less than two hours.” “Exactly. Imagine what three days in paradise would do to you.” I took a thoughtful sip of tea. “Dancing in a Hawaiian-print shirt?

Joining me for sunrise yoga? Giving up red meat? The possibilities are endless.” “Stella.” He leaned forward, his face serious. “The day I wear a Hawaiian-print shirt is the day cows fucking fly.” “You never know at the rate technology is progressing. It could happen,” I said, undeterred.

“You know what your problem is?” “Pray do tell. I’m on the edge of my seat.” I ignored his unhelpful sarcasm. “You take yourself too seriously, and you work too much. You should take more vacations, or at least connect with nature every once in a while. It’s good for the soul.” “It’s too late for my soul, Stella.” Despite his light tone, I sensed he wasn’t joking. My smile faded.

“Spoken like a true pessimist.” “Realist.”“Cynic.” “Skeptic.” Christian’s lips tugged up at my frown. “Shall we continue playing thesaurus or move on to a more interesting topic?” “We’ll move on, but only because I want to spare you the indignity of losing,” I said regally. “That’s

very kind of you.” I didn’t appreciate the knowing laughter threaded through his voice, but I let it slide. He was paying for this beautiful villa, after all, and he’d saved me from spending ten hours in a cramped airline seat, watching old movies and trying to prevent my legs from falling asleep.

There were few things more uncomfortable than being a tall person in economy. I sank deeper into the couch and deliberated on a good topic before I said, “Tell me something about you I don’t already know.” I’d forgiven Christian for shutting me out after Dante’s dinner, but I hadn’t given up trying to pry more personal tidbits out of him. I didn’t care if they were as simple as his favorite superhero growing up; I just wanted something. Knowing things about Christian wouldn’t do much to protect my heart, but we were stuck together for the foreseeable future and I wanted to make the best of it.

Part of me expected him to evade the request per usual, but to my surprise, he answered readily. “I don’t like dessert.” A horrified gasp rose in my throat. “All dessert?” “All dessert,” he confirmed. “Why?” “I don’t have a sweet tooth.” “There are non-sweet desserts.” “Yes, and I don’t like them.” He took a calm bite of his food while I stared at him in disbelief. “I take back what I said. Your soul is definitely suspect. It’s not normal for someone not to like dessert.” I searched for a plausible explanation. “Maybe you haven’t met the right dessert yet.” Who could hate baklava, cheesecake, and ice cream? The devil, that was who. “Perhaps I’ll meet it at the same time I meet my soulmate,” Christian deadpanned. “You joke, but it could happen. And when it does, I’ll…” I faltered. Threats weren’t my forte. “Yes?” He sounded like he was holding back another laugh. “I’ll never let you hear the end of it.” “Looking forward to it.” Christian took pity on me after my lame response and switched subjects. “Time to reciprocate, Butterfly. Tell me something I don’t know about you.” “Can’t you look up everything you want to know on one of your fancy computers?” I was only half joking. “I’d rather hear it from you.” For some reason, that sent a flutter through my chest. I’d planned on sharing something silly and lighthearted, like how I watched YouTube tarot readings when I felt down because the readers always put such a positive spin on things or how I color-coded my closet for fun because the result was so aesthetically pleasing. Instead, I said, “Sometimes, I fantasize about finding out I was adopted.”

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