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The library wasn’t actually stuffy. It had recently been updated, with a lot of windows, natural light, and not a speck of dust to be seen. I hated it. Too new, too modern, too clean—I stuck out like a sore thumb. As did Dante. The librarian was currently staring at him, slack-jawed. She wasn’t glaring at him like she had me; she looked like she was fantasizing about him.
“If you think I’d go anywhere with you other than to see you get officially charged with a crime in court, you are fucking unhinged, agent.” I looked up, pushing the curtain of hair from my face. “And really, the FBI? That’s about as watertight as a condom supplied by a billionaire’s mistress.”
He chuckled, the sound carrying through the library. It was deep, masculine, and annoying. “You worried about me?”
“I’m worried about your connection to me, and you fucking up my hunt,” I corrected him.
“All the more reason to come with me and speed things up,” he tossed back instead of battling with me about the ownership of the hunt like I’d expected him to.
I sucked down the last of my coffee. “Come with you where?”
He tapped the top of the chair. “I have a lead. On a hiking trail about ten minutes out of town. Thought you may want to come.”
I scrutinized him, taking in his cocky smile, his playful eyes, his biceps straining the sleeves of a T-shirt that was at least one size too small.
“Give me your lead,” I demanded, making my decision. “I’ll go on my own.”
He shook his head. “Not how it works. You come with me or not at all. A philosophy of mine.” He waggled his eyebrows.
I scowled at him, though a flame of want flickered in my core. Want? Dante? I must’ve been half mad.
But then I thought of what I had to do the rest of the day—nothing. Nothing until dinner at the Hughes household, something looming over me like a thundercloud.
“Fine.” I slammed my palms down on the table. The gesture earned a flinch from the librarian lusting after Dante, then a scowl at me.
I grinned at her as I gathered up all my papers, unceremoniously shoving them in my bag. They weren’t much help anyway. I’d never been this lost in a hunt before, ironic since I was in a place I knew like the back of my hand.
Dante sauntered beside me like he owned the whole library, leaning forward to rap on the librarian’s desk as we passed it. “You have a good day now,” he murmured, flashing her a seductive smile.
The librarian’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink.
I let out a muted gag.
He looked at me with a cocked brow. “You got something against being nice?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I try to avoid it whenever I can.”
“It helps.” He stepped forward to open the door for me. “People are more inclined to bend the rules for you if you’re nice.”
I shoved my glasses down onto my face in response to the unrelenting sunshine and mild temperature. It was fall. Where the fuck was the gloomy weather and the icy winds?
“I don’t need people to bend the rules for me,” I told him. “I break them plenty well all by myself.”
“And you do a damn fine job of it.” Dante chuckled, pointedly looking me up and down, as if ripped jeans and a faded band tee were what turned him on. I knew it wasn’t. I’d seen him with plenty of scantily clad bimbos to know what he liked.
The opposite of me.
A comforting thought.
“My bike is right there.” He jutted his chin to where his Harley was parked at the curb. Even if I hated the guy, I had to admit he had a nice bike. All black, gleaming chrome. Aftermarket pipes that gave a deep, throaty rumble you felt in your chest. The bars were slightly pulled back, seat custom-stitched. The whole setup was fast, heavy, and built for long rides. I could hate the man and appreciate his bike.
“How can you carry everything you need for hunting in those?” I motioned to the saddle bags. “I doubt they barely fit your skincare routine.”
He shook his head. “I travel light, and I’ve got good genes.”
“I’m not riding on that.” I ignored his response, rounding back to the topic at hand. Even if a tiny part of me did want to feel the reverberations between my thighs, to experience the freedom of riding without barriers. “I’ll follow you.”
“What if you can’t keep up?” he asked.