One More Night with You by Lisa Marie Perry Page B

with beautiful intentions. But don’t you think cash like that might go toward heroin in his veins instead of food in his stomach?”
    â€œI saw the good in him. Sometimes a person needs someone else to see the good in them, Zaf.” With that she was back on the move.
    â€œJosephine, hang on for a minute, okay?”
    â€œNo, I don’t have time for this. I’m getting along fine and the sooner you disappear again, the better.”
    â€œDo you mean that?”
    â€œI do.” Lies, lies, lies. But they were her strength and comfort because he couldn’t be trusted with the truth. “I have friends here and a stable job at ODC. Plus, as you’re damn well aware, I’m testing out the dating scene. So I have no time for your pretenses. I don’t want you anymore.”
    The last few words crackled in the muggy air. “I might believe that had I not been in that library with your hand around my cock.”
    Oh, sure. Bring that up. She stabbed her cane to the step. “Hey, you don’t get to crawl out of the woodwork when I’m trying to patch up my life. And you, of all folks, don’t get to judge me. So give your so-called protection to someone who wants it.”
    That shut him down, but only for a taut moment. He literally jumped the rail, his feet touching down neatly on the step below hers.
    â€œHow impressive, you do your own stunts.” Thank goodness for snark—dishing it out gave her time to push past a tide of arousal. Facing him full-on took her breath away.
    Zaf leaned close, kissed her cheek for the benefit of people passing them on the stairs. To strangers they appeared to be a normal pair of lovers relishing the brightness of each other’s company on a dreary afternoon. So far from the truth. “Joey, you’re wearing a target.”
    â€œWho put it there?” Asking the question didn’t mean she had to put stock in what he said. It wouldn’t be the first time he lied to achieve an end result.
    â€œGian DiGorgio.”
    â€œAre you lying?” He wasn’t; she fully and completely trusted that on this occasion he was honest. God-given instincts, sharpened by a career as a federal agent, had made her suspicious of coincidences. It wasn’t by chance that in recent weeks Gian DiGorgio repeatedly appeared at the bodega where she’d shopped for years and had never before seen him. Happenstance wasn’t at work when she visited the post office and found the man twisting a key into the box next to hers. Though the Bureau lent her a few courtesies, she had no recourse against a citizen exercising his rights to patronize a bodega and keep a post office box.
    But to doubt Zaf would pressure him to release information he likely was reluctant to share with her yet—if at all.
    â€œI’m not lying, Jo.”
    Just to stress that she wouldn’t allow herself to be handled, she said, “I want proof.”
    â€œI’ll get it to you.”
    â€œGood.”
    â€œLook, I know you don’t trust me, but DiGorgio isn’t some playground bully. This isn’t casual advice between old friends. Eliminating the threat to your life is my job. Once before you pissed on my judgment, and neither of us will forget how that played out.”
    Joey flinched. “This conversation’s over.”
    â€œTake this seriously,” he pleaded. “I didn’t come to Las Vegas to dig up the past or make you cry or to blame you for my screwups.”
    â€œReally? Seems that way to me.”
    â€œNone of it was intentional. You’re no longer an irritation to DiGorgio—you’re a threat. I’ve had him tagged for the past few months. What he wants with you is personal. From what I’ve gathered, he’s willing to handle you himself.”
    Inside Joey was cold, and anxiety slammed her so hard that her spine started to ache. But she said indifferently, “Let him give it a try,