“Oh, I haven’t even begun,” I warned her. “You’re a tool, Kara. A weapon. And ARCHEON pointed you at us. But let me ask you something. What happens to weapons when they become obsolete?”
She went still. The defiance in her eyes flickered, replaced by a dawning, chilling comprehension.
“They’ll dispose of you,” I spat. “They’ll erase you. Maybe with a convenient disappearance. A tragic accident. You’re a loose end, and they’re in a business that requires the tying up of loose ends.”
“You don’t know that,” she whispered, but her words lacked conviction.
“I know how people like us operate,” I explained. “And ARCHEON, from what you’ve just described, is worse than us. They have no code. No loyalty. No family. Their only cause is simple profit.”
I loosened my grip on her throat, my fingers trailing down her chest, between her breasts, a tender, calculated caress. “But you,” I continued. “You have a choice.”
She looked at me, her eyes a mixture of suspicion and a desperate, flickering hope. “What choice?”
“Work for us,” I said more gently now. “Help us understand what they’re planning. Help us stop them. In return, we’ll protect you. We’ll keep you safe.”
I saw the conflict in her eyes, the war between the defiant survivor and the terrified woman who knew she was in danger whichever way she turned.
“Why would you help me?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Because you’re a valuable asset,” I replied pragmatically. “And because you’re the only one who can give us what we need.”
I leaned closer and inhaled deeply. “And because, for reasons I still don’t understand, I find myself unwilling to let them have you.”
My phone buzzed one more time, a final, insistent warning. I ignored it.
“What about Roman?” she asked, her voice a small, fragile thing. “What about your other brother?”
“What about them?” I countered.
“They won’t agree,” she said, shaking her head. “They’ll want to punish me. They’ll want to make an example of me.”
“They’ll do what I tell them to do,” I couldn’t hold back my possessive snarl. “You’remyproblem now. My responsibility.”
A hesitant smile spread across her face. It was the first genuine smile I’d seen from her, and it was devastating. It transformed her, softening the hard edges, and revealing the woman I’d seen a glimpse of all those years ago. The woman I’d wanted then, and the woman I wanted now.
“Your responsibility?” she repeated, a teasing lilt in her tone. “That’s a very polite way of saying you’re going to keep me as your prisoner.”
“If that’s what it takes,” I grinned, holding her gaze.
She laughed and it was a soft, musical sound that was like a balm to my soul. “Ahh, Lev,” she mocked. “You always did have a flair for the dramatic.”
This time when my phone buzzed, I snatched it up. Dmitri. It was a series of text messages, impatient and full of warning.
“We’re out of time,” I sighed.
I stood up and pulled on my shirt, the fine cotton familiar against my skin. I buttoned it up with quick methodical movements and then pulled on my suit jacket. I was back in my armor. Back in control.
She watched me, her eyes a mixture of fear and a reluctant, fascinated admiration. “What are you going to do with me?”
“I’m taking you with me,” I said simply. “Get dressed.”
I tossed a dress from the closet onto the bed. It was an elegant black sheath, stylish and understated. She was going to look like a fucking rockstar in it.
She looked at the dress, then at me, a flicker of boldness in her eyes. “And if I refuse?”
I walked back to the bed and leaned over her, my face close to hers. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t have to.
“Then I’ll dress you myself,” I said with a menacing growl. “And I promise you, you won’t like it.”
