Page 172 of Lethal Torture

“Zin,” I say quietly, “there are some things I need to say.”

She hesitates, and for a horrible moment I think she’ll still walk out. Then, slowly, she raises her eyes to mine.

She’s trying desperately to hold on to her mask. I can see it in the rigid tension of her body, her opaque cobalt stare.

And she’s more than halfway out the door, mentally at least.

But I’ve watched her for months now. I can see the quivering uncertainty behind her tension, the haunted shadows I’ve become intensely attuned to. I’m gripped by the longing that’s taunted me to the point of madness lately, to pull her against me and never fucking let her go.

And I know that if I make one wrong move, she’ll bolt faster than a deer in the forest.

“This was never a job to me.” I keep my voice low and calm with an effort. “Youwere never a job to me, no matter what I said at the start. I knew I wanted you from the moment I saw you in your office, that first night in the Quartier.”

She shifts impatiently. “You already told me that, Luke. Back on the plane.” Her flat response takes me by surprise. “But wanting me is a much different thing to living this life with me. We wanted each other. We had each other. For a time.” Her eyes slide past mine. “That’s as good as it gets in my world.”

Her fingers drum against her waist, once, then twice.

She’s starting to fall apart.

I thrust my hands deep into my pockets so I won’t touch her. It takes all my self-control not to speak, to wait her out.

“I want you out of my business, Luke.” Her eyes dart from side to side. Her whole body trembles, poised on the precipice. “I’ll write you a blank fucking check, if that’s what it takes.”

Christ, she’s stubborn.I bite down on a sudden urge to laugh. “Zinaida,” I say gently. “Look at me.”

Slowly her eyes rise to meet mine, dark, wide pupils floating on a sea of glittering sapphire.

“In case I wasn’t clear, back when I tore up my contract the first time,” I say, “there is no amount of money that could ever make me leave you.”

She inhales sharply, but doesn’t speak.

“There’s also no amount of money that could make me stay if I didn’t want to.”

She stares at me, her arms still wrapped tightly about herself.

I stay as still as ever, despite the fucking storm racing through me. “I’m the only person who decides where I do or don’t belong. Not you or your people. Not Mak or Roman.Me, Zinaida.”

She trembles slightly.

“And just in case Avonmouth didn’t make it clear.” There’s a rough edge to my voice that I’m powerless to prevent. “I’m the last fucking person who will ever need saving. By you or anyone else.”

The meter between us feels like a gulf. One I know I can’t force her to cross.

“It’s you who needs to make a decision now, Zinaida.”

Her eyes narrow.

“You can leave.” I glance at the door. “I won’t try to stop you. But tomorrow, I’ll still be running every detail of your security, whether I do it from inside your business or out.”

She watches me, barely breathing.

“I told you once before that being here, doing this work, was my choice. That is still the truth. But it’s not the whole truth.” I hold her eyes, aware of the blood thudding through my veins, the exhilarating adrenaline surge as I finally say what I’ve been desperate to for so long. “I’m here because I love you, Zinaida. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, across a crowded room, as they say.” I half smile. “And loving you means I’m here to stay, whether you agree to it or not.”

Her eyes are wide and luminous on mine, and when she speaks her voice is barely a whisper. “Why?”

I cross the final step so I’m standing in front of her, breathing her in, every cell in my body aching for her. “Because there’s nobody else in the fucking world that will ever have your back like I do.”

“You’ll have my back.”She repeats the words like they’re some kind of spell.