Persistent (Adrenalin #3)

by Michele Lenard

That’s when I feel it. The tingle. It starts at the base of my spine, a tiny prickle of awareness that stretches slowly upward until it reaches my neck, my shoulders, its fingers curling around me until I'm engulfed in its heated palm. I know without having to look that I’m being watched. Studied. That should make me uneasy, and maybe it would if the tingle gave me a cool shiver. But it doesn’t. It makes my heart flutter, soothing me. Warming me even as it coaxes goosebumps to the surface of my skin. It makes me feel adored despite being ogled. Worshipped almost. Claimed. I’ve been watched before. It comes with the territory when you live in a tourist town that attracts daring and often single visitors, and you’re a reasonably attractive single man who dresses adventurously. Most of the time I ignore it and go about my business, because I’m not a tourist attraction. I’m the owner of one of the most successful restaurants in the valley, and I didn’t get to this point by playing when I should’ve been working. Very occasionally, when I feel like I’ve been too single for too long, I let a pretty face distract me. I let myself get pulled into conversation. And if the attraction is strong enough, I let that conversation turn into something more. I’m not proud of it, but I’m not above it either, when the need gets too great. Then I go back to work, because the restaurant business is tough, and I can’t afford to take my focus off it if I want to keep the reputation I’ve earned. So...