But I can’t think about anything else. Haven’t been able to since taking on this assignment and meeting her. Not because I want to possess her, but because I want to behers.
Her cheeks darken, eyes lighting fires as she takes in my chest.
Scars. Tattoos. The double shoulder holster I shrug out of and place on the table next to her weapons. The extra mag tucked into my pants.
Then I wait.
Because I’d wait forever for this woman.
And now I need to know why.
Silence.
Nothing but breathing for too long to count.
And eyes swirling with everything. Anger, betrayal, heat. Longing.
When she reaches for the first-aid kit and pops it open, I exhale, finally realizing I’ve been holding my breath.
She scoots a hair closer, and my throat tightens, pulse a drumline.
Leonora grabs gauze. Alcohol.
Then my hand.
Her touch sears, need in the tremble of my response. But I don’t flinch or pull away.
“I hate you,” she says, dousing cotton with alcohol and scrubbing my knuckles too hard.
It stings.
I press my good hand into my leg, refusing to react. It pisses her off more. Her face reddens, her lips flattening into a thin line.
“I hatethis,” she continues, smearing antibiotic cream into mottled flesh like a mad woman.
Her black eyes lock with mine. “You lied.”
“Yes.”
She adds a bandage, smoothing it down too roughly. “You used me.”
“No.”
“Don’t.”
“I was assigned to you. I stayed foryou.”
Her hand comes up, balled into a fist, and she socks my shoulder. Face livid. It doesn’t hurt, doesn’t even sting. But the pain behind her gaze does.
“You stayed because youhadto. Not because you wanted to.”
She says it like it’s unforgivable… like she believes it.
She shouldn’t.
Not for one minute.
“I’m here because I want to be.”
