Page 10

“I can barely remember anything about my life. With you, before you, after you.” He shrugs, waiting for me to open the door.

Because someone royally fucked with his brain before I met him. The trauma of his injuries probably made it that much worse. Then again, I can’t say I don’t have trouble with memories myself.

“All that you need to know is that we were. Then we weren’t.”

“And some mafioso asshole is to blame.” Ero shakes his head, trying to shoulder past me into the suite. My nostrils flare at the sheer rudeness and utter jackassery that bleeds from his every pore. Before I can stop myself, I thrust out my foot, catching his.

He stumbles, catching himself. Right before he kicks the door shut in my face, giving me the middle finger. With a growl, I toe-stop the swinging barrier, flinging it back open and striding right in, shoving the narrow table just inside the door into him before he can regain his balance.

“Shit!” he barks, tripping back over one of the plush chairs in the living area and rolling headfirst into the coffee table.

Leave it to the most deadly killer I’ve ever met to turn the fall into a fucking gymnastic maneuver. Ero catches one hand before he hits the floor, flipping his feet back and over, twirling and landing in front of the fireplace like he casually stood up.

“Smooth.” I roll my eyes as hard as I possibly can.

Ero smirks that strange almost-smile, falling back into the love seat and kicking his filthy boots up on the fabric. Almost like he’s trying to piss me off.

“Is it working?” Like he can read my freaking thoughts.

“You’re a menace.”

“You’re an insufferable nag.”

“Then why’s your dick hard?” I snap, gripping the lip of the blanket under him and yanking hard, pitching him off onto the floor.

“Oho! Domestic bliss,” he hollers, heading toward the bathroom. The water kicks on a few seconds later. “Do tell me more about our nuptials.”

“You don’t have to believe me. I’m missing a lot of pieces too. That’s why I need your help. So we can figure out who we were. And why Dom came after our family.”

Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, I catch a reflection in the mirror through the partially open bathroom door. Rippling abs and a chest that would make any woman’s mouth water stretch as he peels his shirt over his head.

Before I can look away, he catches me watching, locking eyes with me in the mirror. Without looking away he tugs his zipper down, hooking his thumbs into the lip of his jeans.

The lines of his stomach flex, leading my gaze down, down…

Fuck!

Look away, Circe.

Gotta keep my head on straight.

Why?says a sultry little voice that reminds me of my past.

Because I need to stay in control.

Excuses, excuses. Always so goddamn uptight.

“Shut the fuck up, Artemis.”

“What?”

“I said get the fuck in the bath and quit waving your dick around.”

Unless you’re going to do something useful with it. For a split second, I contemplate joining him. Pushing him up against the tile and wrapping my legs around…

It’s also suddenly very warm in my hotel room.

Spinning on my heel, I stomp into the kitchenette, pouring a very large glass of wine. As a distraction, I punch in the number for room service, order several items from the menu and busy myself tidying up the spread of gun parts and weapons spread out on the broad, heavy wood table.