Blackmailing Belle (The Lost Girls, #4)

by Holly Roberds

"What are you reading?" he asks, his voice low and rough. Dominic’s gaze locks onto mine. My mouth goes dry. "What?" "You seem to be enraptured by what you're reading. What’s happening in the plot?" There is genuine curiosity in his question even as he wears his usual scowl. I grip the book tighter. "Nothing’s happening in the plot." Technically I’m not wrong. This is an action scene. Pure furious, frantic fucking. No plot in sight. Dominic frowns. Nope. Not happening. I shake my head and bury my face in the book, pretending to be engrossed. But Dominic doesn’t drop it. He leans forward slightly, his attention sharpening like a predator catching the scent of something intriguing. The realization hits me like a freight train. Oh no. "You smell. . .different," he says, his head tilting as if to confirm it. "Sweet." My stomach drops. "Excuse me?" His nostrils flare, and he sets his tablet aside. "Your scent. It’s stronger than usual." I want to die. I want to crawl under the rug and never come out. "I-It’s probably the lotion I used," I stammer, desperate for any excuse. His brow quirks. "Is it? Because it smells more like arousal." There it is. The mortification. The earth might as well swallow me whole. I need water. Or air. Or both. "I think this is the part where I get up and leave," I mutter, my voice high and strained. He growls in warning. "I’ll be right back," I wave him off even as I abandon the book and flee for the kitchen.