Page 65 of Lethal Torture

And something tells me that Luke is going to have strong opinions about the Avonmouth Docks rescue.

Which is his job,whispers a tentative voice of reason in my ear. I’d like to ignore it, but I didn’t turn my first billion by thirty by being an idiot.

I know that the work I do in the shadows for Sophie’s House is most likely the reason I’m being targeted. And Luke has been extremely clear that he won’t tolerate secrecy. If I genuinely want our work association to be effective, I need to, at the very least, keep him informed.

Which is more courtesy than he shows me.I have no idea where Luke is tonight, or with who.I don’t even know where the man lives.

I also know there is absolutely no reason at all I should be given any of that information. Just like I know that calling him on his night off is entirely inappropriate.

Oh, but you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you, Zin?

I pick up my phone and hit his number.

“Zinaida.” Luke answers on the first ring. His low voice and flat Australian vowels give my name a unique inflection that feels oddly intimate, like it’s a name only he and I share.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your night off.”

“It’s fine.” It sounds like he’s walking. “Talk to me.”

Notare you safe.Notwhere are you.

Because Luke knows where I am. He knows I’m safe. Something tells me he has systems set up that would alert him if I so much as tripped on a stair.

That level of surveillance should feel intrusive, but instead it makes something hard inside me feel strangely soft, just like his rough voice sayingtalk to memakes me want to curl into him and never let go.

He’s your security guy, you idiot, not your teenage fucking crush.

I clear my throat. “I know we’d planned to go to Sophie’s House tomorrow.” I’ve started walking since I hit his number, and now I’m standing in front of a wall mirror, staring at my own glittering eyes. “Before we do, some information has just come up that I thought you should know about.”

Sure, Zin. And it’s so urgent you just had to tell him tonight.

“I’ll be home in ten minutes,” he says calmly. “Anatoly knows the address. We can talk there.”

“I don’t want to upset your plans.”

Bullshit.The truth is that the thought of Luke out on a date with some random woman makes me want to smash the mirror.

“You’re not interrupting anything.” The faint edge of amusement in his voice tells me he knows exactly what I was asking. “I’ll see you soon.”

He ends the call, and I stare at my reflection, watching the color mount on my cheeks, every nerve in my body strung tighter than a circus high wire.

Mature, Zin,taunts the annoying inner voice.And so professional.

Luke’s apartmentis a warehouse conversion right on the Thames.

Makes sense, given that I saw him rowing that morning.I suppress a shiver. There are days when I think the image of his half-naked body cutting silently through the water, huge and supremely in control, will haunt me forever.

The apartment building is dark and silent as Anatoly parks out front. My phone lights up with Luke’s number.

“I’m going to be a little late.” He sounds as calm as ever. “Twenty minutes, no more. I’m sending you the access code for my apartment and the number. Have Anatoly take you to the door and wait until you’re inside.” He hangs up before I have a chance to back out, which I’m more than a little tempted to do.

Anatoly walks me to the door and waits until I’m inside the apartment. “I vill vait in car,” he says stolidly, not quite meeting my eyes.

He knows me way too well.

“Thank you,” I say as coolly as I can manage, given where I am.

Then I’m alone, surrounded by the cool ocean spice of Luke Macarthur, a scent as familiar as it is disturbing.