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A whine falls from her lips. “Can we talk after you fuck me? Please.”

I consider it.

She’ll be more agreeable post-orgasm. It would be nice, to savor one more time before I throw this hand-grenade between us.

But I can’t.

“No,” I say, as simply as I can.

“Tie me up if we’re going to talk. It’s too hard mumbling into the comforter.” She turns her head just enough to glance in my direction. She waits for me to tie her up or talk.

I don’t.

Eventually, she shifts onto her side. She looks to me could you help me here?

I pull her arms apart, but I keep my grip firm.

She rolls onto her back and resumes her attempt at negotiation. She speaks casually, like she’s not bothered—or turned on—by the fact I’m holding her down. “Do you really believe she’s French intelligence?”

“Something like that.”

“And you figured sex would distract me.”

“So did you,” I say. And it worked fills the room, but neither of us says it out loud.

“Well, as long as we’re here… and your ties are free… you might as well fuck me.”

“Sorry, princess, but I can’t let you go just yet. You might run after her,” I say.

“Then do me a favor,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Explain to me how this works with our deal. Because if she turns that laptop in, I’m on the run. I can’t access that party.”

“You’re right.”

She raises a brow. What does that mean?

“But you left out a key detail, Jamie.”

“What detail is that?”

I stare deeply into her eyes. So deeply I see her soul. Every beautiful bright part and every delicious dark crevice.

She stares back with the same intensity, but without my understanding.

I keep my voice steady as I drop the proverbial bomb. “You’re here to kill me.”

Chapter

Twenty-Four

MATTEO

Jamie bucks her hips just enough to break my grasp. She reaches for something she has stashed under the bed.

A knife.

But she’s not fast enough.

I go for her wrist. Hold her arm against the bed. “This isn’t a good start to building trust.”