Now there he stood, barefoot, in only pants, leaning indolently on the counter of his futuristic kitchen, looking like the god of malice that he was. He sipped painfully aromatic coffee in utmost serenity, clearly savoring its taste and her upheaval.
But what else did she think would happen after she’d committed that act of madness? Hadn’t she already known she’d regret it? Or had she been that pathetic she’d hoped it wouldn’t end horribly? That she’d have the ecstasy she’d hankered for without the agony that she’d learned would come with it? Had she even thought of the consequences as she’d grabbed for the appeasement only he could provide?
But this... What he’d ordered her to do wasn’t only horrific, it was...incomprehensible.
The numbness of humiliation and self-abuse splintered under the blow of indignation. “Just who the hell do you think you are? How dare you presume to tell me what to do?”
Almost groaning at how clichéd and cornered she sounded, she watched in dismay as he gave her a glance she was certain had hardened criminals quaking in their shoes.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know who I really am.”
“Oh, I know enough to extrapolate the absolute worst.”
Another tranquil sip. “From your defiant response I actually gather the worst you can imagine is nothing approaching the truth. But your misconception might be the result of my own faux pas. If I gave you the impression that this is a negotiation, I sincerely apologize. I also apologize for previously stating you always have a choice. You never do with me. Of course, there are always catastrophic mistakes, still categorized as choices, open to you. In this situation, the wrong choice is to stall. I strongly advise you don’t exercise it.”
Even now, his delivery of this load of bullying was so sexy and sophisticated his every enunciation reverberated in her reawakened senses like a shock wave.
Loathing her unwilling response, she gave him a baleful glance. “I assure you I won’t stall. I will ignore you and your deranged demands altogether.”
“In that case my only choice is to force you. So you’re now down to one catastrophic choice, and it’s how hard you decide to make this for yourself.”
“Give it your best shot. Hard is my middle name.”
As she kicked herself for how lame and how reeking of innuendo that had come out, his lips twitched his enjoyment of her slipup.
Out loud, he only said, “I can assure you, you wouldn’t like it if I resorted to extreme measures.”
“What extreme measures? Are you threatening to off me?”
His eyes turned to slits opening into thunderclouds. “Don’t be daft.”
It again seemed to insult him she’d suggest he’d physically harm her. But she wasn’t falling yet again into the trap of seeing any measure of light in his darkness.
She twisted the strap of her purse around her hand until her fingers went numb. “I guess you don’t off people if you could at all help it. You don’t put people out of their misery. You didn’t even kill Burton, just consigned him to a worse hell than even I hoped for him.”
“Are you extrapolating what I did to him?”
“No, I know.” His eyebrows rose in astonishment-tinged curiosity, and she hugged herself against a shudder that took her by surprise. “I wasn’t a kingpin’s trophy wife for four years without cultivating methods and sources to navigate his world and to execute an escape plan when necessary.”
Heat entered his gaze again, this time tinged with...admiration? “Indeed. The way you wiped your history was a work of art. We must discuss said methods and sources at length sometime. It could be mutually beneficial to exchange notes on how we execute our deceptions.”
She watched his mesmerizing face, wondering how he made anything he said so...appealing to her on her most fundamental levels, logic, self-respect and even survival be damned.
The only explanation was that she was sick. She’d contracted a disease called Richard Graves. And it was either incurable or would have to be cured at the cost of her life.
She huffed in resignation. “Nothing I developed could be of use to you. Next to yours, my abilities are like an ape’s IQ to Einstein’s. And I use fraud only to survive. It’s a fundamental part of your career, of your character. Deceit is a preference to you, a pleasure. But you are right.”
He raised an eyebrow. “In my advice not to stall?”
“In supposing I’m extrapolating Burton’s fate at your hands. I know where you sent him, what that place is. But what is being done to him there?” She shook her head, the nausea she’d felt since he’d told her he was done intensifying. “Even after all I’ve seen in my life, my imagination isn’t twisted enough to conceive what your warped mind could devise, or what you’re capable of.”