Wicked Intentions(21)
I freeze. “You!”
“The one and only, darlin’.” He puts his nose into my hair, inhales, and whispers in a husky voice. “Don’t stab me. I look better without holes.”
The relief that washes over me is almost as powerful and unexpected as the surge of joy. I drop the knife, spin around, throw my arms around Ryan’s shoulders, and bury my face into his neck.
“Oh. Uh…okay. I see we’re changin’ gears.” He sounds surprised, then suspicious. “Or are you about to offer me some orange juice?”
I shake my head and burrow closer. His arms wind around me again, this time with infinite gentleness.
Trembling with adrenaline, I blurt, “I’m sorry.”
The chuckle again. “For what? Lyin’ to me? Usin’ me? Seducin’ me?”
I answer truthfully. “Everything but the last part.”
Ryan laughs. He takes my face in his hands. In the shadows, his smiling face is so handsome, my breath catches. “Hi,” he says softly.
“Hi yourself. How did you find me?”
“Told you I would. I keep my word. You’ll learn. By the way, do you always sleep fully dressed?”
The answer is yes, but I ignore the question and ask one of my own. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?”
“Ninety-four. You got a lotta makin’ up to do.”
The innuendo in his voice sends a shiver of delight down my spine, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. He could be about to put me in handcuffs.
“Are you going to turn me in to the police?”
“Do I seem like I’m in a big rush to do that?”
I narrow my eyes and inspect his face, then admit, “Not really.”
“There you go.”
We stare at each other. He brushes a knuckle over the rise of my cheek. “So you’re a thief.”
“And you’re a mercenary.”
“Not my preferred term, but yes. Gotta say I like your voice even better without the fake French accent. Tell me your real name.”
“Um…Elizabeth.”
He sighs.
“Lauren?”
“Cut it out,” he says flatly.
I make a calculated gamble, because I know he’ll be able to tell if I’m lying. Besides, he can’t get far without a last name. There must be millions of women with my first name.
“Mariana.”
He examines my expression, then nods. “Pretty. And unusual. Suits you. Mariana what?”
“Let’s not get carried away, cowboy. This is only our second date.”
“Yeah, but look how good the first one went. Except the end,” he adds sourly. “That sucked big-time.”
The staring recommences. I can tell he really wants to kiss me. He also wants to take me over his knee and spank my ass.
And not in the good way.
“You have every right to be angry,” I admit sheepishly.
He cocks an eyebrow, drawls a sarcastic, “You think?”
“Yes.” I take a steadying breath. “But I’m just so goddamn happy to see you, I hope you can ignore how mad you are for a second while I do this.”
I stand on tiptoe and kiss him.
He responds instantly, a low groan rumbling through his chest, a big, rough hand digging into my hair. The other hand grips my bottom, dragging me closer. He drinks deeply from my mouth, pressing me against him so I feel him grow hard.
He breaks away first, chuckling. “Guess Tabby was right,” he says in a throaty voice.
“What?”
“Never mind. Listen. Here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna get us both naked. Then I’m gonna make love to you. Sweet this time, not rough, ’cause you gave up the right to dictate terms when you pulled a spider monkey and crawled off the balcony and left me feelin’ like a dipshit. Which is a pet peeve of mine, by the way. Then we’re gonna talk—”
“Talk?” I repeat, a note of panic in my voice.
“Talk,” he says firmly. “Like normal people do after sex.”
I laugh a little breathlessly. “You think we’re normal people?”
“Shut up. After the talk, you are not gonna dose me with drugs. You are not gonna disappear. What you are gonna do is tell me who did that to your throat so I can kill him.”
All the air leaves my lungs. We’re eye to eye, so he can see what his words have done to me, how terrified I suddenly am.
“I can’t,” I say, my voice breaking.
He growls, “You mean you won’t.”
I shake my head. “No. I mean I can’t. And that’s not a lie. It’s just…” I blink away the sudden, awful memory of bloodied bodies lying motionless on burgundy carpet. “It’s just that I work for monsters. One of the cardinal rules of monsters is you’re not allowed to tell anyone they exist. And it’s not only my life that ends if I disobey the rules.”
He studies my face in silence. “So, you’re not a thief by choice.”
“I’ve been a thief since I was six years old. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”
“It’s how you survived, maybe, but it’s not who you are.”
I try to pull away, but Ryan doesn’t allow it. He holds me in place, gently but firmly. “I can help you.”
My laugh is short and bitter. “Don’t be a cliché. I’m not a damsel in distress, and you’re no knight in shining armor.”
“Not to toot my own horn, Angel, but my armor is so fuckin’ shiny, it’d blind the sun. I can help you.”
This conversation is making me emotional, something I detest more than men who wear argyle socks. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Tough shit,” he replies, and swings me up into his arms. Then he deposits me on the bed and lies on top of me.
If I didn’t like it so much, I’d fish the other knife from the under the pillow and aerate him.
“Now look,” he says, sounding reasonable. He braces his elbows on either side of my shoulders and props his chin on his hands. “You don’t know about me, but I’m kinda the shit.”
When I make a face, he smiles. I close my eyes and mutter, “Unbelievable.”
“Ahem. As I was saying—I’m kinda the shit. I don’t have my bio with me, but you’ll just have to take my word that it’s real impressive—”
“Oh. My. God.”
“—and my major spec-i-al-i-ty—”
“That word doesn’t have five syllables.”
“—is rescuin’ people from bad situations.”
I think for a moment. “Like the Karpov situation?”
His eyes narrow. “You know him?”
“No. You mentioned him the night we had dinner with your friends at the resort restaurant.”
Ryan looks pleased. “You were payin’ attention.”
Like a big baby, I hide my face under his forearm. “I paid attention to everything you said.”
“Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice warm. “And why’s that, Angel?”
I don’t reply. What can I say? Because everything you said was interesting? Because I was infatuated with you from the moment I laid eyes on you? Because you’re so beautiful and sexy and adorable, it melts my black heart?
No. Obviously I’m not saying any of that.
Ryan dips his head and nuzzles my ear. “Just admit it. I dazzle you,” he whispers, then softly laughs.
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“Take off your clothes.”
“Bossy!”
“We’ve already established that you like that, so do as you’re told and get naked, cowboy. This room is only rented for one night.”
There’s a wicked gleam in his eyes that hints at secret plans. But he’s not the only one with plans. He might be a good bloodhound, but I’m an even better escape artist. No matter what he’s got planned for me, I’ll be gone before he can play it out.
I don’t want to go, but doing what I want is a luxury I don’t have. I’ve got the world’s largest blue diamond to steal within ten days. Time’s a wastin’.
“I think you should take off my clothes,” he says, “since you have so much makin’ up to do and all.”
“If I do, will you tell me how you found me?”
“No. Duh.” He pauses. “But I will if you leave with me tonight.”
“Leave? What do you mean, leave?”
“You’ve got a nice big vocab, Angel. I think you know the meanin’ of the word.”
My heart thuds at a thunderous volume, like a fat person clomping down stairs. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “So…just to clarify…”
“You come back to New York with me and let me take care of your situation so we can get started on our happily ever after.”
My mouth is open. I can’t get it to close. I can’t get any words to come out of it, either. I just stare up at him in disbelief while he smiles calmly down at me like he’s just suggested we order in for pizza.
“You’re cute when you’re speechless, Angel. Can’t wait to see what happens when I get down on one knee and—”
“Stop it! And stop calling me Angel! Get off me!”
“No, no, and no.” He refuses to budge as I try to wrestle him off. The damn man is too big, too strong, and too stubborn to move an inch.
In that maddeningly reasonable way he has, he continues. “You think this kinda shit happens every day? You think two people meet and have thermonuclear chemistry and make each other laugh and have mind-blowing sex, and then one of them steals a fifteen-million-dollar necklace and disappears and the other one finds the first one within a few days and breaks into her hotel room and almost gets stabbed but ends up on top of her in bed?”