Page 28 of The Devil of Downtown

I keep watching.

“So,” I cut in smoothly, eyes still on Sloane, “you managed to deliver the documents to my room without any difficulties?”

Her head snaps toward me before she can stop it. The pulse in her throat jumps. “I—what?”

Maria’s phone rings, and she steps neatly into another conversation, allowing my focus to be solely on Sloane.

“You know,” I continue, my gaze steady on her, “the folder you left last night.”

“Um—right.” Her voice is strained. “No issues.”

Sloane’s eyes jump back to the window now, her shoulders tense. She knows. She senses it—the weight of me watching her. I lean back against the leather, stretching an arm along the back of the seat.

The silence between us tightens until Sloane’s phone vibrates sharply.

Her hand darts to it, flipping it over. But not before I catch the name glowing on the screen.

Brody.

I file the name away. Lover? Boyfriend? Whoever he is, he won’t be a match for me.

The device buzzes again. She silences it, jaw tightening.

“Answer it,” I say.

Her head turns, eyes flashing for the first time this morning. “It can wait.”

“It’s ringing again.”

“Isaidit can wait.”

Her voice doesn’t tremble this time. There it is—the spark. The fire she tries so hard to bury under that careful composure. I let the corner of my mouth tilt.

Maria is still droning on in the background. She pauses her call momentarily. “If they raise the issue of fiscal accountability, Mr. Black, I suggest—”

“Mm,” I murmur, still looking at Sloane. “We’ll handle it.”

I let the tension build until the air feels too thick. Then—softly, almost casually—I say, “You seem tired, Sloane. Did you sleep well?”

Her head turns, the faintest flicker of alarm in her eyes.

“You know how those old hotels are,” I go on, my voice dipping low. “Creepy sometimes. Things moving around when you’re not looking. That strange feeling someone is watching you.”

For a heartbeat, she freezes. Before her mouth curves into a slow, razor-edged smile.

“Yeah,” she says, a twinkle in her eye. “There’s definitely an evil presence staying at the hotel.” She holds my gaze for a fraction too long before turning back to the window, biting her lip to conceal a smile.

I let a low sound of amusement hum in my throat, my fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the seat.

“You should probably lock your door,” I murmur.

Her chin lifts, eyes glinting in challenge. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

This time, she doesn’t look away.

Neither do I.

The corner of my mouth twitches; my voice rough with something I don’t bother to hide. “See that you do.”