Reese, who had been relaxedly watching the exchange spoke up in a flat, measured tone. "Miss Morales doesn't seem like a yacht lady."
Winn groaned. "See? That's how beautiful her heart is," he said. "She wouldn't even want me doing this right now."
Then the practical man in Winn asserted itself. He turned back to Reese, the smile gone, the businesslike edge back in full force. "Get him out of here, Reese."
"Mr. Kane, please. Commissioned cannot know. The CEO will kill me. I'm begging you." Sweat glistened on Kevin's forehead despite the chill night air, and his breath came fast. He stumbled forward, nearly falling to his knees, the raw fear in his tone pulling at the darker edges of Winn's patience.
"Ah, the mob boss. I forget," Winn drawled, that half-smile curling his lips. "Yes, I've heard of him."
