Free Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #5) by Emma Hart Page B

all.”
    “And you make decisions even quicker.”
    “Sorry, Dad.” I roll my eyes. “Look, if that body is Daniela, I want nothing to do with it. Of course I’m going to help you, because let’s face it. You need me.” I pause when he smirks then kick him under the table. “But I’m not going to be directly involved. Nuh-uh. Not this time. I would like to make it through this year without having a deadly weapon shoved in my face. Four times last year is enough for the rest of my life.”
    “It’s enough for fifty lifetimes. For me, at least.” Drake drops his smirk. “I appreciate your resolve, but we both know that’s not going to happen. And, for the love of God, don’t tell me it will then change your mind, because I’m not repeating that again.”
    Yeah. That time I investigated his ex-stepfather’s death without him knowing. In my defense, it was his mom’s fault. I’m sticking to that story.
    “Do you not trust me to keep my nose out of your investigations?”
    He blinks at me, his dark lashes fanning across his cheeks every time his eyelids drop. “I’m trying to figure out how to answer this correctly.”
    “You don’t trust me to do that, do you?” My voice is quieter than it was a moment ago.
    Wow. Why does this kinda hurt? I mean, I know that my track record doesn’t go in my favor, but still... Two of those times, I was hired. The other two... Well, I think I should get a shot at the best of five.
    “Shit,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Wrong fucking answer.”
    “Never mind.” I leave the glass on the table as I get up. “I need to get changed for dinner.”
    “Noelle.” He follows me into the hall and grabs me before I can go upstairs. His hands, cold from his almost-full beer bottle, frame my face, and his eyes bore into mine. “You’re incapable of not getting involved. Believe me, I wish you wouldn’t, but it’s a part of who you are. I don’t know many people who would get up at stupid times of the night just to think things through in the silence, and nobody gets as excited as you do when you figure something out. I love every crazy part of you, bella .”
    “I hate it when you do that.”
    “Do what?”
    “Call me bella. You know I can’t stay mad at you when you say that.”
    Slowly, he grins. “I know.”
    “You’re a shit, Drake Nash.” I halfheartedly shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move back at all. He simply pulls my face toward his and lowers his lips to mine.
    They’re cold too. Cold and soft as he draws me into a kiss that makes my heart skip a beat. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean into him, the heat from his body seeping through my shirt a marked difference to the chill of his mouth. Tingles dance across my skin, and as he nips at my bottom lip, I can’t believe one little kiss can still make me feel as alive as the first one we ever shared did.
    Better, even.
    There’s nothing like the slow, easy kisses he’s giving me right now.
    I’m breathless as I pull away. “We’re gonna be late for dinner.”
    “So?” he murmurs against my jaw, kissing up to my ear.
    My heart thunders in my chest as lust coils in my tummy, but I swallow, flatten my hands against his chest, and step back. “Drake. The last time we ended up having sex before dinner, Nonna called us out. I do not need another dang lecture about us living in sin!”
    His lips twitch. “Let’s go. Right now. I’m not listening to her regale me with threats of how my soul is going to burn in Satan’s personal Hell pit.”
    “It’s funny that she thinks she isn’t Satan and I don’t burn in Hell every Friday.” I snort and quickly run upstairs to get changed. I throw my blouse and my skirt into the laundry basket, pausing to sigh when I see Drake’s work pants on the floor. Right next to the basket.
    I swear to God I’m gonna kill him.
    I quickly get changed and throw his pants in the basket on my way out of the bedroom. For a guy with a killer