He doesn’t look away. He doesn’t flinch. “Yes.”
My blood goes cold in spite of the heat of the water. “Why?” This time, the word comes out in a whisper.
“Because I had to. Because they would’ve hurt my business, my people, my son.”
The room seems to tilt as the reality of what’s going on hits me. I’m naked, in a hot tub, with a man who’s speaking calmly about killing people.
I know I should leap out of the tub, throw on a towel, and run. But I don’t.
He leans in, green eyes narrowed. “Now, your turn. Truth or dare?”
I should say truth. I always say truth. “Dare.”
“I dare you to stay in the water with me after what I’ve told you. After you’ve learned about who I really am.”
I cock my head to the side. “That’s it? That’s the dare?”
“That’s it.”
It seems simple enough. But the more I consider it, the more complicated it becomes.
“I don’t know who you really are,” I say. “Though I can tell you’re dangerous.”
He says nothing, sensing I’m not done.
“But I can also tell that you love your son more than anything. And it’s my job to take care of him. So, you might be dangerous, but you’re not dangerous to me.”
His eyes flash, as if I’ve said something true. “And?”
“Even though you just told me that, I feel safe around you. And I know that’s insane, considering I’ve only been here for a day. But it’s true. I do.”
His gaze stays on me for another long moment. I want him to say something, anything, to break the tension. Instead, Roman pushes off the edge of the tub, drifting toward me. He comes close, so close I can feel his heat.
“Amalie.”
“Yes?”
He lifts his hand out of the water and brushes wet strands of hair from my face, tucking them behind my ear. I shiver at his touch.
“Come here.”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I push toward him, closing the last few inches between us. When I’m near enough, he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his solid body.
Then he kisses me. Hard.
It’s not a shy, polite kiss. It’s a kiss of heated entitlement, his mouth pressing against mine like he hungers for me. His lips are firm and warm. His tongue finds mine as his hand slides up my hip and moves to the back of my head, angling me against him. I gasp with pleasure and surprise.
Every nerve of my body lights up. The world fades away, leaving nothing but the two of us, the warmth of the water, and the hardness of his body. I can taste the vodka on his tongue. I melt into the kiss, placing my hands on his big, round shoulders.
Then, to my surprise, he pulls back.
“Tell me to stop,” he growls.
I should. I know I should. Everything about this screams bad idea, but the words won’t come out.
“Don’t,” I say. “Don’t stop.”
A low rumble sounds from his chest. “Good girl.”
