Jesus fucking Christ, it’s almost like Saint’s finally found his match.
It takes me a second to wrangle my poor cock under control. Damn thing jumped to attention the second I got a peek at Noelle’s delicious cleavage, and all I can say is that it’s a good thing that we’re snowed-in at asecluded chalet because I’d pluck the eyes out of any fucker who got to see such a vision while I’m still waiting to make sure she understands that she belongs tome.
Is she teasing? Is she trying to fight back by showing me what I can’t have? Knowing her—from my stalking, from her journals—I don’t think she’s trying to come onto me, but it doesn’t matter. If the teeny tiny part of the conscience I hadn’t stamped out by now through my line of work could’ve convinced me to let her go, that seals the deal.
She’smine, whether she knows or not.
Whether sheagreesor not…
I will be proud of one thing: I’m not the only one who does a double-take. As she drifts hesitantly into the kitchen, I pick up on the exact moment when she sees me sitting at the table. Her cheeks pinken instantly, her eyes going wide as she takes me in.
Only that’s not fear in her expression. Nope. That’slust, and my Starling is looking at me like that because she wasn’t expecting the suit.
She wasn’t expecting it—but no denying that shelikesit.
I gesture toward the nearest counter, laid out with the food I cooked for her. “Breakfast is ready. Would you rather serve yourself or do you want me to make your plate?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Wrong answer, sweetheart.
“Grab a plate.”
“I don’t?—”
“Grab a plate.”
She grabs a plate. She’s not happy about it, but she does.
Good.
“Listen to me. You’re stuck with me, Noelle. You might as well get used to the few perks there are when it comes to being with Patrick North.” Leaning into my seat, watching like a hawk as she slowly starts to place eggs—scrambled, also her favorite—onto her plate, I add, “I can shoot dots off of dominoes. I can kill a guy with my bare hands if I have to. I know twenty different ways to poison someone”—she gasps, the fork slipping out of her hand, hitting the plate on the counter beneath it with aclink—“and when I’m not poisoning a target, I’m a fucking excellent cook.”
She stares down at her plate. “How do I know you didn’t poison this?”
She doesn’t, and I don’t even take offense that she would ask. Especially after I used poison to off Dutton, I could very easily have poisoned any of the meals I’ve prepared for her.
I wouldn’t.Iknow that. She doesn’t. And until she can trust what comes out of my mouth, I’ll have to prove it with actions.
Shoving my seat away from the kitchen table, I march over to her. I pick the fork up, scoop some of theeggs from her plate, and shovel them into my mouth. After I swallow, I lay the fork on top of her plate, then take my seat again.
She gapes at me, and I give her a solemn look as I promise, “I won’t hurt you, Noelle. I didn’t go through the trouble of tracking down five assholes, giving them their just desserts, and following you all the way here to hurt you. The sooner you understand this, the better this Christmas will be for you.”
Her tongue darts out, licking her lower lip nervously. “Why are you telling me this?”
Because I have no intention of letting her go. This Christmas, she’s the one thing onmylist.
Because, if I tell her the truth… if I tell her that I’m not just obsessed with her, but that a ruthless assassin is hopelessly in love with her… she’d chuck that plate at my head and brave the snow and the mountain regardless.
“Eat your breakfast, Noelle,” is all I say. “And when you’re done, we’ll resume our conversation from last night.”
NINE
MOUTH
PATRICK
She swallows roughly as she grabs a single piece of buttered toast.
