Chapter Eight

Let’s Agree Not to Sniff Each Other’s Butts

MILA

Mila thought it was fun to be inside the stuck-up Chief Inquisitor’s head. For one, because he wasn’t as stuck-up in his head. And second, she just plain enjoyed messing with him.

Also being able to hear him while he couldn’t hear her unless she wanted him to, restored the power imbalance between them. It was harder to boss someone around when they could hear every little thing you thought.

The only side effect was perhaps having to listen to the sexy thoughts he was having about her. For one, because, well, the Chief Inquisitor, despite being an arrogant troll, was still remarkably gorgeous with his messy dark hair, obsidian eyes, and even darker soul.

Not to mention how tall and defined he looked—not just looked, Mila already knew exactly how fit he was after having spent a good five minutes in his arms. This made him overall very attractive, which was a problem because he was an ogre who’d shackled her, falsely accused her of attempted murder, and, worst of all, mocked her loneliness.

Not to mention, he also seemed very appalled to be having all those naughty thoughts about her, which didn’t bode well.

Especially not when he was staring at her with a wicked grin. “Penny for your thoughts?”

She mentally flipped him off and could spot the exact moment the image reached his brain because he tilted his head back and laughed.

Gargoyles, that laugh! It was sexy and masculine and totally unexpected. Rough, sensual, both cruel and kind.

She could taste it on her tongue like bittersweet nectar.

Pair that with the sight of his chest shaking, the amused twinkle in his eyes, and the way his throat and Adam’s apple were exposed by his tilted head, and it was just too much to handle.

Mila shook her head, trying to clear her mind and ignore the primal attraction she felt toward him.

“I don’t think you have enough pennies to afford my thoughts, Chief Inquisitor.”

Riley’s grin only widened. He pushed himself out of the car and started walking down the school driveway toward the main entrance.

“Are you coming or not?” he called, turning his head over his shoulder.

Mila begrudgingly followed him—not at all noticing how nicely his uniform pants stretched on his derriere. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one into shapely behinds.

No, nope. Not interested.

Oh, who was she kidding? As they walked, Mila couldn’t stop staring—ogling, really—at the Chief Inquisitor’s muscular physique, his purposeful strides, and the way he held his shoulders back, projecting a sense of confidence. It was no wonder he was so intimidating—he looked like he could take on anyone and emerge victorious. But there was something else she noticed too, something that hinted at a vulnerability beneath all that bravado. It was in the way he walked, with a slight limp in his gait, as if he were nursing an old injury. She wondered what that injury could have been.

Not your riddle to solve, she chided herself. Everything about Chief Inquisitor Riley King screamed bad idea, and she’d better remember it. Better even, she should get “bad idea” tattooed on the back of her right hand as a reminder whenever she started thinking about toned chests and nice butts.

“What’s a bad idea?” Riley asked, holding the door to the school open for her.

And now she was getting sloppy with her mental shields, too. Mila glowered at him, spitting, “The bad idea was thinking you could just waltz into my life and stun me, shackle me, and then accuse me of attempted murder with no evidence.”

Riley’s expression turned serious as he replied, “I already told you I didn’t stun you. As for the rest, I was only following protocol. I won’t apologize for doing my job.”

“So is admiring my shapely behind part of the job description?” Attack was always the best defense.

A red flush crept up his neck, visible even in the less-than-ideal lighting.

“I apologize if my thoughts have offended you. I’m not used to having to guard them.”

Mila couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort. She was enjoying having the upper hand for once, even if it was just in his thoughts.

“It’s fine, Chief Inquisitor,” Mila said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I can handle a little ogling. But let’s get one thing straight: I’m not interested in you. Not now, not ever.”

Riley gave her a look that suggested he didn’t believe her. “Is that so?” he said with a hint of amusement. “Because I think I also heard something about toned chests and nice butts”—he circled a finger above her forehead—“in there somewhere.”

Mila sighed in an exasperated way. “Then, let’s agree now that even if we both possess a butt the other appreciates, we’re never going to sniff them.”

Once again, Riley threw his head back and assaulted her with that rough-sensual laugh of his. “Here I solemnly swear, Miss Bennet, never ever to sniff your butt.” Then he turned serious. “Get inside now. We have work to do.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll go join the disrememberance team if you could just point me in the right direction.”

“Everyone is still being held in the gym, all humans, that is. The gymnasium is down the second hall on the right, third door on—”

“This is my niece’s school. I know where the gym is.”

“If you’re such a wonderful aunt, why weren’t you at the recital?”

“Tickets are limited to five per family. I went last year. This year it was my brother’s turn.”

“That makes three tickets.”

Mila frowned. “What do you mean, three tickets?”

Riley counted off his fingers. “Your sister, her husband, I assume, and your brother.”

“Oh, the other two are for my parents. Try to keep my mom away from one of her grandwitchlings’ events at your own peril. Do you have any more invasive, personal questions?”

“No, that’d be all, Miss Bennet.”

“Fantastic. While you go do your very important investigative job, I’ll go be with the low-life minions taking care of the menial stuff.”

“Not a minute too soon.” Riley nodded, turning on his heel. “And, Miss Bennet?” He paused, looking back at her. “Report back to me when the job’s done.”

“Sure, Chief Inquisitor.” Mila made a mock military salute, and at the end of the flick, she turned it into a bird-flipping. “I’ll be holding my breath until then.”

Having put in the last word, Mila sauntered away toward the gym for a sure-to-be crappy couple of hours. But, hey, they couldn’t turn out worse than the two she just had.

They could, and they did.