Claira’s gaze moved precariously around the small diner, noticing half a dozen people staring at her with mixed emotions on their faces. With her wits returning from the little vacation they had taken while Grey’s tongue was down her throat, she felt her cheeks heat with another flush of embarrassment and…frustration. Who did he think he was, kissing her like that and then pushing her away? It wasn’t as if she’d asked him to kiss her. Claira picked up her wallet and stopped when she noticed the bills already lying on the table. When had he done that? She shook her head and stuffed her wallet back in her purse. Who the hell cared? She needed to get out of there and get to work. And no way was she letting Mr. Grey McLendon pick her up from school or stay at her house like she was some helpless child. Okay, so she may have a deadly, pissed off mobster looking for her. No, no maybe about it. Lucian was looking, but it didn’t mean he’d find her. And what made Grey think she was in some kind of trouble anyway?
