I kept prowling closer, reducing the space between us, and she kept scrambling backward trying to gain it back.
And then she came up against the back of the couch.
I saw her swallow thickly, her gaze traveling up my body, past my shoulders, until her eyes collided with mine. “You don’t have the look of a woman scarred for life. If anything, you look like a woman who likes what she sees.”
She snorted and opened her mouth for another of her sarcastic comebacks, but whatever she was about to say died on her lips when I took one last step forward, closing the little space left between us.
I reached out, resting my hands on both sides of the back of the couch, caging her between my arms. She made a sound and brought her hands up to push me back but then dropped them before actually touching me. “What’s a matter, love?” I whispered. “Are you afraid if you touch me you won’t be able to stop?”
“Oh my God!” she burst out, ducking beneath my arm and trying to get away. “You are so gross.”
I caught her arm and yanked her around. “How did you find me? What the hell are you doing here?”
She pulled herself free and glared at me. “How did you move so fast before?”
“Answering a question with a question. I’m not the one who owes any answers.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You broke into my house.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please, your back door opened with a credit card. With locks like that you were practically asking for it.”
“I don’t need locks. I’m an Escort.”
She snorted. It was a habit I found very unbecoming. “I knew you’d say that,” she muttered to herself. “Arrogant, pigheaded…”
“Excuse me?” I lifted a brow.
“What’s up with all those papers?” she asked, hitching a chin toward where they had fallen to the floor. “Why are you so interested in the senator’s daughter?”
“I suddenly don’t care why you’re here or what you want. It’s time for you to go. Don’t even think about coming back here again,” I threatened, shoving her toward the French doors.
“Or what?” she taunted. “You’ll kill me?”
I didn’t have time to reply because she gasped and stopped in her tracks. I had to move fast to avoid bumping into her. She spun around and pinned me with a hard blue stare.
“You’re going to kill her, aren’t you?”
I just stared at her.
“I knew you were up to something!” she burst out. “Is she your Target? Or is she just for fun?”
“I do not kill for fun,” I said mildly.
“Well, you must not hate doing it because you do it all the time.”
Her words struck something inside me that I hadn’t felt in a long time, and I pushed it back, I didn’t think about those kinds of things anymore. I didn’t feel.
“What I do is none of your business.”
“It is when you burst into my friend’s house and pull out a gun, then kidnap her.”
I sighed. She was exhausting. “So we’re back to that, are we? Your friend is still alive. I am no threat to her anymore,” I said and then pinned her with a stare. “Which is more than I can say about you.”
“Go ahead and try,” she shot out, leaning toward me and narrowing her eyes.
“So you aren’t afraid of me at all?” I asked slyly. I reached out and brushed a wild lock of blond hair from her cheek and then slowly let my fingertips travel down her face, making a path all the way down her neck. I felt her heartbeat speed up and I smiled. I shifted, angling my body toward hers and leaning down so that my lips were near her ear.
“You’re not afraid to be alone with a man without a conscience? With someone who kills for money and power? Who possesses more strength in one hand than you have in your entire body?” As I spoke I splayed my fingers out along her neck.
Her breath hitched and I moved fast, slamming her body up against the door, wrapping my hand around her throat and applying just enough pressure to make her eyes widen in surprise.
“There is nothing stopping me from killing you right here, right now,” I growled.
Her hands came up to grab at where I squeezed her neck. “Please, don’t.” she said. It was a soft plea that I might not have heard if I hadn’t been so close.
I pushed away from her, putting several feet between us. I heard her gasp from behind and imagined her sinking back against the door and bringing her hands up to her tight throat.
But that isn’t what she was doing.
She shoved me hard from behind, sending me forward, tripping a little, and then she shoved me again. “You jerk!” she spat as I caught myself on the edge of the kitchen island and spun around.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
“I’m not going to let you kill her!”
That wiped the smile off my face. “Don’t get in my way.”
She smiled a flat, unfriendly smile. “Oh, I’m already there.”
* * *
I don’t know how long we stood there glaring at each other across the room, but when the start of some bad infomercial came on the TV, it snapped me out of it and I flew across the room at her. It made me extremely satisfied when she flinched like she was afraid.
As much as I wanted to ring her neck, I wanted her gone more. She was officially the most infuriating person I’d ever met. I tossed her off the deck and into the dark yard and then stalked back into the house and slammed the door, locking the lock she made fun of.
Then I snatched up the remote on the coffee table and hit a button, lowering all the blinds on the windows. I ran upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and then stood in the darkened window that faced the street and watched as she made her way down the road toward a red Jeep Wrangler.
I stood there long after she was out of sight, watching to be sure she didn’t come back.
Tonight was a first for me.
The first time anyone ever dared to break into my house. The first time anyone ever snooped in my business. The first time the sight of my naked chest didn’t turn a woman into a puddle at my feet.
But most of all…
The first time I ever felt anything other than death in a very, very long time.
Chapter Six
“Vending machine - a coin-operated machine that dispenses merchandise.”
Frankie
Okay, so maybe breaking into his house wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done. But I did accomplish something. Besides getting scared to death, annoyed, and slightly turned on (just because he’s good-looking doesn’t mean I have to turn into some obsessive groupie)…