7
Chloe
Heart hammering, I turn to look at Nikolai. He’s watching me with the same unsettling amusement, and I suddenly feel like a mouse being played with by a big, gorgeous cat.
Who may be in the mafia.
“So,” I begin uncomfortably, “I should probably—”
“Give me your car keys.” He walks up to me. “I’ll have your things brought up.”
“That’s okay. I can do that myself. I’ll just—” I shut my mouth because he extends his hand palm up, his expression uncompromising.
Fumbling in my pocket, I extract the keys and drop them onto his broad palm. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” He pockets the keys. “Settle in and make yourself comfortable. Pavel will bring your bags in a minute.”
“There’s just one—a small suitcase in the trunk,” I say, but he’s already walking out.
Exhaling a breath I didn’t
