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The bite wasn’t erotic or inviting, it was pain. Pinching pain and daring me to say something. I clenched my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction. A mockery of a smile twisted his lips as he straightened.
“No promises,” he said finally, as if he hadn’t just proven his point. “Now, come this way.”
He didn’t wait for me to agree, pulling me through the archway and into a room that was decorated with velvet couches, heavy curtains, a hearth with a lit fire waiting along with glasses that had been poured.
O’Rourke closed the door behind us and it gave me the opportunity to move away from him and study the room. I also spared a glance down at my wrist. The rip of skin was visible as was the livid bruising already appearing.
Great. I probably needed shots after that.
“You have me at a disadvantage, Mr…”
“Declan,” he said, easily enough. His American accent was relatively generic and it didn’t betray any region. “And I know who you are, Grace.”
My spine stiffened as a new shock registered.
His smile was not friendly. “You don’t mind if I call you Grace, do you? I feel like you and I know each other very well.”
“Do you?”
“You’re the girl they pulled from the New York shipment. The reason Gallo has gone missing and Dubois is raging all about Monaco regarding the raid and other events. You are one half a gorgeous set, but you were the one meant to be nothing but a memory.”
His voice was smooth. Like a scalpel.
“He’s baiting,” Bones said, the crisp note in his voice hard. “Keep control.”
For all the distance in Declan’s eyes, he wasn’t unaffected by me. Spreading my arms, I added just a little sway to my step as I pivoted to face him. Yes, his gaze went to my chest, then to my legs.
“I’m a girl with options,Declan.” The name was so much more sexier than the man. Pity. “You planning to make me one?”
Amusement filtered through his expression as he moved to where the wine and the glasses waited. “Not exactly. You see,Grace—I really do love your name. Simple. Elegant. Like you. Then, there is you and you’ve already made yourself… very interesting.”
He took the time to fill each glass with the red wine. It looked like blood in the firelight. When he held out to me, I had to prowl closer to accept it. Avoiding touching him while I took the glass was a win.
“You’re doing fine,” Bones said, the razor-wire tension in his voice an anchor “You see a weapon, you give me the word.”
They were out there. Voodoo. Lunchbox. Alphabet. Bones.
I wasn’t alone. “Tell me something, Declan,” I coated the words with a little honey. Nothing but some sweetness to own the moment. “What do you want?”
“To—”
“What do you want, really?” I cut off whatever charming response he was about to offer. “You asked iftheysent me or was I a gift that you were promised—then you say you know who I am. So let’s cut to the chase.What. Do. You. Want?”
It was like channeling my sister as I fired off each word. Amorette could put a person on the spot, deconstruct their arguments and never let them get off the subject she wanted discussed.
Declan’s smile faltered. A brief crack in the facade of his charm. Brief but real. “Death is expensive, Grace. Some of us learn to leverage it.”
Ice slid down my spine.
“I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to demand things from me.” He stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat that rolled of of him. Close enough to let me see the scar just beneath the open collar of his unbuttoned tux.
A bullet wound.
I’d seen similar scars on the guys.
“You don’t have to run anymore,” he told me, brushing the hair off my shoulder. “I can make you disappear the right way. Set you up so you will always be taken care of…”
The urge to vomit was right there.