Page 170 of Lethal Torture

“You and I are having this out,” I say curtly. “Even if it takes all night to do it.”

Her eyes, lined in kohl and silver, dart away from mine. They’re huge and luminous in the low light, paste diamantés glittering on her cheeks. Her hair is an ornate construction high on her head, threaded with feathers and sparkling, shiny things.

I want to scrub her face clean. I want to pull out her hair and watch it tumble down her naked back.

She turns the glass slowly on the table, the undersea storm of her eyes like a visual aphrodisiac. It’s an exercise in personal restraint to not stare at the tempting swell of her breasts, the sharp points of her nipples beneath the silk.

I can imagine them all too clearly, just like I know exactly how her swollen pussy would look if I ripped that robe off her.

Fucking stop it, Luke.

I take my cuff links out and roll up my sleeves, focusing on each movement to still my breathing, keeping one eye on her.

“You want tohave it out,” she says flatly.

I swallow a mouthful of whiskey. Beer was never going to cut it tonight. “I want you to trust me.”

Oh, because you’re a trustworthy kind of guy, Luke, right?

I swallow a little more of the good stuff. It’s going to take an entire fucking bottle to get myself anywhere near under control.

“Trust doesn’t come into this.” Zin pulls her robe tightly closed, her arms wrapped around herself as if she’s bracing for an attack of some sort. “This was always a professional contract for you. A job with an end date, nothing more.”

I want to cross the table and show her exactly how unprofessional I’m feeling right now.

And if you try it, she’ll likely kill you, idiot.

I drink my whiskey and wait.

“This world isn’t a job to me.” Her voice is low, her eyes staring past me to places and times where I can’t follow. “It’s mylife. It isn’t something that ends with finding out who it is that’s betraying me this time or trying to kill me this week. My entirelifeis people betraying me and trying to kill me.”

The flat, unemotional way she says it breaks my fucking heart. Her eyes swing slowly back to rest on mine, smoky with old emotion. “It is what it is, Luke. What it always has been.”

She lifts one shoulder, lets it drop.

“And it’s not going to change. You want tohave it out?Fine.” She tosses off half her glass, her body wrapped tightly into itself, her eyes brilliant and hard. “Here it is: no matter how good you might be at your job, you don’t belong in my world, Luke. And I don’t want you in it anymore.”

I fold my arms, staring her down, but she returns my stare.

“Let me get this straight.” It takes everything I’ve got to keep my voice low and controlled. “You hired me to do a job, then when I do it, you want me out of here?”

She makes an impatient sound. “I’m trying to fucking save you, don’t you get that?” There’s an oddly choked quality to her voice, a rasp that has me clenching my glass to stop myself from reaching for her. “You’ve got Macarthur Securities now. A whole future. It’s time for you to get out of here, Luke. While you still can.”

“We both know we’re way past that, Zin.” I take a hard breath, fighting for control. “You haven’t asked about what happened tonight,” I say tightly, more to gain myself some space than because I want to fucking talk about work.

“It doesn’t matter what happened.” She downs the rest of her drink and shakes her head, slipping off the stool. “We got the bad guys, right?” She tightens her robe, her eyes avoiding mine. “Manipulated politicians,” she says in a dull effort at irony, “and intimidated criminals. I imagine I have a basement full of men waiting for the touch of my knife as we speak.”

“Notyourknife,” I say quietly.

Zin rolls her eyes. “So now you’re going to take on the role of psychopath?” She makes a choked sound that should have been laughter. “I don’t want that for you, Luke. I’ve never wanted any of that for you.”

“Torture has never really been my thing.”

Her eyes slide back to mine.

“I mean, I can do it.” I sip my whiskey, holding her eyes. “And I won’t lie—when it comes to a piece of shit like Lowbridge, I was almost looking forward to it. But I wouldn’t call it my favorite hobby.” I let my eyes linger on the belt of her robe long enough to make it clear what my favorite hobby is—and to see a flush steal up between her breasts.

God, I want her.