I had no idea which, so I decided to play it straight, because I could somehow sense that any attempt at subterfuge would only rouse his suspicions further.
“So what does that mean?” I asked.
“It means,” he said, as he returned my license to its slot, stuck the wallet back in the purse, and returned the purse to its original home, “that decency, whatever you might think that is, won’t spare you. Not if I find out you’re doing anything other than precisely what you were brought here to do.”
He was suspicious, a trait that was essential in his line of work. But rather than pointing that out, I said, “All I’m doing is caring for my patient. Nothing more.”
He stepped toward me, covering the distance between us in two long strides, strides that only emphasized his power, the barely leashed strength that he didn’t need to display for me to know it was there.
When he stopped in front of me, I lifted my gaze to his, unable to do anything else. He stared back at me, eyes practically piercing my soul. Something told me that if I had blinked, backed away, that I would be over. So as hard as it was, as much as I wanted to wither under his scrutiny, I stayed put, waiting.
“Caring for your patient?”
His deep voice was a low rumble, one that stirred me in ways that had nothing to do with fear and everything else to do with feelings I didn’t dare contemplate.
I nodded.
“Make sure it stays that way, Lily Holan.”
I licked my lips and immediately regretted the nervous gesture. His words had been a threat and not even a veiled one, but the raspy tone with which he’d spoken them curled low in my belly, potent enough to distract my mind from what he said and tune my body to how he’d said it.
I licked my lips again, the action deliberate this time, an attempt to buy some time to gather myself. And, though the shift of his eyes was faint, almost imperceptible, I noticed he followed the motion. I couldn’t tell what he thought, but he’d reacted, no matter how mildly. That knowledge gave me the strength to continue.
“You know my name. What’s yours?” I asked, happy that my voice came out strong.
“Anton. Pray you’ll soon forget it.”
And then he was gone, the room feeling almost huge without his presence there. After a moment, I heaved out a sigh, relaxed the hands I had not realized I’d clenched until just then and wiped my sweaty palms on my pants.
Anton.
A complication. I could see that clearly. Both because of his own suspicion, and, more importantly, because of the way he made me feel. My breath came out faster and harder than it had before and my body tingled with awareness, a feeling too close to desire for my liking.
I couldn’t desire him because I despised him and those like him. If I did, what did it say about me, about my mission? I breathed out slow and hard, trying to center my thoughts. That I had to do so only underscored the problem this man presented.
He would be my most formidable challenge.
I breathed out hard again.
But I would meet that challenge, and any others that came with it.
Because I would have my vengeance, and Braden would have his justice.
Six
Anton
The nurse—Lily—was an outsider, and I didn’t trust her.
That distrust, however, was not the only thing plaguing my mind.
The memory of her face, her eyes wary but not fearful, the dark honey color rich and clear even in the darkness of the room, her lips, the top a little fuller than the bottom, set in a straight line that was neither smile nor frown, just an even, serene expression, filled my mind.
Even now, I couldn’t stop the thought that had filled my head as I watched her, the wonder of what those lips would look like as they turned up in a smile, whether she’d bite them as she tried to hold back her moans as I slipped inside her warmth.
My cock was solid before I could push the thought away, and I frowned, though it did nothing to alleviate the persistent and insistent tug of desire that the memory of her stirred.
I’d been too long without a woman, that was the only explanation for this reaction. She was an enticing package, her features strong, attractive, even bare of makeup and with her hair pulled back in a neat little bun. And the curves she covered with her demure, professional scrubs were just the type I loved to have under me, a bounty of flesh that I could tease and touch and lose myself in.
But that was no explanation and certainly no excuse for my reaction. Beautiful women threw themselves at me all the time, were eager to latch onto me for however long I allowed if it meant getting the benefit of whatever status I had. I recognized the interest for what it was, never begrudged the women. But I also never let it affect me, used them to relieve my physical needs just as they used me for their material ones. It never went beyond that, and no one, ever, had occupied my attention for any length of time.