He added, “Agnes is here.” Did you think the prick who tried to stab me in the back and who then went off to kill her would get to keep living? Nah. He’d been a dead man walking. Though he’d died faster than Cass anticipated. “Her coffee is ready.”
“Her coffee?—”
“Talk soon.” He hung up the phone and tossed it on the counter near the coffee pot.
Her gaze went to the phone. Then to the coffee pot. Then to him. “Guessing that phone is untraceable?”
He rolled one shoulder. There were technically ways to trace just about every device, but as far as safe calls went, yeah, his phone was pretty good.
“That was Gray,” she added into the silence.
No point in denying what she obviously knew.
“I will be having a talk with him.” A firm nod. “After coffee.”
He motioned toward the pot.
She grabbed a mug after opening three cabinet doors, and then she reached for the pot. “No emotional involvement, huh?”
She’d definitely heard that part.
“It’s not like I was expecting you to fall in love with me.” She poured the coffee in the mug. Her fingers were shaking, though, and she poured too much. The hot liquid splashed on her hand, right in the curve between her index finger and her thumb.
Even as Agnes hissed out a breath, he was pulling the coffee—the pot and the cup—from her fingers and then hauling her toward the sink. He yanked on the cold water and slid her much smaller hand beneath that spray, holding her in place as he glared at the faint, red marks that he could already see on her skin.
“What in the world are you doing?” Agnes asked.
“Cooling the burn.” Uh, obviously.
She tugged her hand. “Stop!”
He did not stop. He also did not let go. “You’re supposed to immediately put the burn beneath cool water. Don’t even think of moving for ten minutes.” His grip tightened on her. He hated that she’d been burned.
“Ten minutes? Where are you getting this number?” She tugged again.
Again, he did not let go.
“Cass…let me go.”
Fucking never. His head turned. He looked down at her. Their faces were inches apart. “No.” Not ever, sweetness.
“It’s…” She sucked in a breath. “It’s not even a real burn. I barely feel anything at all.”
“You were upset.”
“I was moving too quickly. Should have slowed down. Again, not a big deal. I’ve had way worse.”
Yes, he knew she had. Far worse than a few, faint red marks on her skin. And that far worse pissed him off. Cass did not like the idea of anything or anyone hurting her. He was also afraid that he’d hurt her. Even though he’d said that he wouldn’t…
I think I hurt her when she heard me talking to Gray.
“You’re staring at me,” Agnes pointed out.
What the hell else did he want to see? The coffee pot? The fridge? No, he’d much rather keep his gaze on her. I get lost in her eyes.
“You’re also, um, caressing my hand.”
He was. Even as he held her hand under the spray of cool water, he was running his fingers lightly along her palm. “Why did you pick me?” He seriously needed to know. “Was it just because you wanted to fuck me so I’d help you get your vengeance?”
