Page 169 of House of Payne

God help us both.

London’s expression hardens. “Then I hope you can stand to lose aquarter of a million dollars when they kidnap me again. I doubt they’ll be as careless a second time.”

She tries to inch past me, but I don’t let her.

London looks at the hand enclosed around her wrist and then up at my face. “You and I both know this is a bad idea. Let me go.”

I know she’s right, but suddenly being in the same room as her, breathing the same air as her, has common sense flying out the window.

I should want her to go, but somehow I still don’t.

“I can’t.” I growl, crushing her against me. “I won’t.”

There’s a strange glimmer in London’s eyes. “Why?”

“You know why.” My voice is gruffer than I intend, and I hope she hears the emotion in it because I can’t say it out loud.

Not yet.

“You shouldn’t say stuff like that, damn it. It makes me crazy.”

Suddenly, I push her up against the wall, and her fingers are in my hair.

I press my forehead to hers and exhale. “You have no fucking idea what you’ve done. None whatsoever.”

London goes slack, and I listen to her even breathing.

For a long moment, we stand there.

I’m startled to realize my breathing matches hers.

Eventually, when she pulls away from me, I let her. I turn to watch her walk away, and she stops in the doorway to look back at me, shaking her head. Then she ducks outside, and I hear her talking to Carlisle before he comes looking for me. I barely hear a thing he says as I storm downstairs to my office.

For the rest of the day, I avoid London and my brother by holing up in there and downing drink after drink.

On the fifth glass, I realize there’s no going back.

Not with London, and not with our allies.

The problem is I don’t know what to make of any of it, and if there’sone thing I hate, it’s not knowing what happens next.

Goddamn London and her innocence, luring me in.

She’s doomed us both.

***

London

I peer into the fridge and push some things around. Finally, I find a container of food in the back and take it out. When I swing the refrigerator door shut, I almost jump out of my skin when I see Mason’s assassin standing there, studying me. Frowning, I take the container to the marble counter and ignore her.

I pry off the lid and bring it up to my face to smell it.

Katia’s eyes follow my every move.

I don’t know what she wants, or if she’s trying to unsettle me, but I don’t like it.

I don’t have the patience to deal with her after the past few days.