My chair scrapes against the floor as I push up. “Don’t pretend you give a shit about anything but your business and yourself.”
His gaze flickers, his mouth parting like he has something to say—then he hardens again.
“You don’t know me, Luisa.”
“And you don’t know me!” My pulse pounds. “We fucked once! It was a drunken mistake. Stop bringing it up. Stop trying to make conversation. I’m a watchdog and nothing else!”
I step forward, ready to walk past him?—
He kicks a chair out, blocking my path. And then he stands in front of me. “You're a hell of a lot more than a watchdog, Luisa.” His breath is warm, close.
“And I haven’t chosen you because you’re convenient.” His voice lowers to a snarl. “You’re the least convenient and most difficult woman I’ve ever met.”
“Then ignore me.”
“It would be easier if I could.”
His chest rises and falls—something unreadable flashes across his face.
“But here I am, trying to-”
He cuts himself off. I stare at him. A breath. A pause. Then I move. A step closer. A push that doesn’t land. We both freeze.
My hand, reaching toward him—too close, too willing.
Fuck.
I force myself to think, to pull back, to push past the heat curling between us.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He looks away. “It’s nothing.”
“Which means it’s something.” My voice sharpens, cutting like a blade. “You threatened to cut out people’s tongues for insulting me. You threatened to kill to get you sister back.”
I tilt my head, studying him. “You’re not the kind of man who doesn’t follow through. And you’re not the kind of man to hide what you’re doing.”
His gaze locks onto mine.
“And yet, you think you don’t know me.”
“Don’t distract me.” My pulse slams against my ribs. “What do you know?”
“I know you don’t have a phone or taser on you right now.”
His voice is smooth, but the weight behind it pins me in place.
Then—he cups my cheek.
Gentle. Warm. Wrong.
His calloused fingers slide over my skin, into my hair, curling at the nape of my neck.
How can being touched by a murderer make me feel so ... safe?
“Stop.” My voice falters. “Don’t distract me. No flirting. No touching. Just—spill it.”
“It’s not a problem because I’m going to take care of it. That’s what I do, Luisa,” he croons voice like silk.
