He chuckles, scratching his jaw. “I have no idea what you just said.”
Smiling, I shake my head. “I asked when you learned to speak French, but I suppose you haven’t.”
“Looked up a couple of words.”
“Like?”
“Tu es exquis.”
His accent, or lack thereof, is adorable. He sounds uncomfortable and a bit clumsy, but if he was going for brownie points with me, he earned them.
“Tu es étrange et déroutant, et pourtant l'homme le plus beau que j'aie jamais vu, avec un cœur d'or. Une surprise pour un tueur.”
Specter’s gaze heats as he listens to me, and he kneels down so we’re face to face. “That is fucking sexy.”
“You like that I can speak French?”
“So far, there isn’t a damn thing I don’t like about you.” He reaches out, gently brushing his fingers under my chin. “What did you say?”
I smile, keeping my words to myself. I’m not ready to say it in English. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you.”
“Or maybe I’ll learn. Are you fluent?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure anymore. The basics are still there, knocking around my head, but I don’t use it much.”
“Do you want to?”
Beaucoup.
“Yes.”
Specter nods, studying my eyes. His gaze is so intense, and my body reacts to it, heating up as sparks of electricity prickle across my skin.
“I want to make you happy, Cashmere. I want to make you feel everything I see when I look at you.”
“You still don’t really know me. Maybe I’m not worth all this trouble.”
He smiles, just slightly. “Maybe I like trouble. It’s kind of what I do.”
How can I argue with that?
“I’m going to go upstairs now and give you space, but I’dlove it if you found me when you’re done here so we can have lunch together.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I have to work tonight,” he says softly, his voice tight now. “I shouldn’t be long, but you won’t be alone. Phantom and Ghost will hang out at Segreto until I’m available again.”
My teeth graze my bottom lip as my chest floods with curiosity. “Are you gonna kill someone tonight?”
“It depends on lots of things.”
“Like?
“If the situation works. I have to calculate a lot of things. Witness potential, ease of access, ability to get away unseen.”
This is the part where I should be afraid of entangling my life with a killer’s, but I can’t find the good sense to feel that.
“Okay” is all I say, already aware that fighting him on any aspect of what he said is a fool’s mission. I need to save my energy for my performance later, not use it arguing with a man whose sole mission in life apparently is keeping me safe.
