Page 50 of Promise of Destruction (Destruction & Vengeance Duet #1)

forty-seven

Declan

The tension between us is so thick I could smother her with it. Soren wants me just as badly as I want her. The difference is, she hates herself as much for it as she hates me.

I watch her try to think of something to say, not wanting to let me have the last word.

But nothing comes, so I do us both a favor and let my hand fall from her face, dusting over her sharp collarbone without ever taking my eyes from hers.

There’s so much that she wants to say; I admire her for managing to keep it all in.

She stiffens when my hand drops, head tilting back just the slightest in anticipation. My fingers close around the handle of her suitcase and I straighten.

“I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

I’m gone before she ever opens her eyes, placing her bag at the door and ensuring our plates from breakfast (brand new, and shatterproof) make it in the dishwasher.

The idea of taking Soren away from everything she knows, away from the home she shared with another man and the ideas she concocted before knowing me sounds great, but the trip we’re about to take isn’t for pleasure.

That doesn’t mean I don’t intend to enjoy myself; I just wish the circumstances were different.

The connections I’ve made since getting sucked into this business seven years ago have been nothing short of interesting.

When I was in college developing software that I hoped would enable my country to find threats before they found us, I never dreamed that I’d end up on the wrong side of the war between good and evil.

But money talks, and here I am. I’ve made a bed in a glass house full of criminals and monsters, and sometimes I have to lie in it.

Having Soren join me is taking a risk, but it’s a calculated one. Leaving her without me for as long as it takes to do the job would potentially be far more dangerous than having her at my side, and that’s not even considering that someone murdered her husband and has never been caught.

No, Soren is mine now. I won’t leave her unprotected.

She joins me thirty minutes later, showered and dressed and smelling of the most delectable fruits. I don’t doubt that she’s ripe and juicy, as her scent suggests.

“Okay,” she says. “I’m ready.”

I let my eyes trail over her outfit— a black dress without sleeves that cinches around her tiny waist and black tights underneath.

“Whose funeral are we going to?” I tease, not bothering to hide the amusement in my voice.

Soren’s face sobers and her teeth clench together so that she can stare angrily at me. “This is a work trip, right? Well, this is a work outfit.”

“Is it?” I muse. “I much preferred that blue dress you wore the night I met you.”

“Well, I didn’t dress for you.” She snaps.

“Who did you dress for? Surely not yourself, cause there’s no way you’re going to be comfortable on a plane in… that .”

She squares her shoulders, clenches her fists. “Well, if you’d just tell me what we’re doing maybe I could have better prepared.”

“You were better prepared before you changed.”

“I hate you.” She says the words automatically, the frustration with me coloring her voice. “You’re dressed for business.”

I glance down at the shirt I threw on without much consideration, a navy blue button down with black slacks. It’s par for the course for me.

“So I am.” I shrug. “Tell you what,”

Soren lifts her head, already preparing for the challenge.

“You change into something more comfortable, and I’ll tell you where we’re going.”

“Or you could tell me where we’re going so I know what will be comfortable. I don’t want to dress in a tank top and then have you take me to Alaska.”

I snort. “The coldest thing where we’re going will be your frigid heart, Ice Queen.”

I barely register what’s happening as she swipes the kitchen towel off the stove. A moment later, it lands on my face.

I pull it away from my eyes just in time to see recognition light in her eyes and shape her mouth with shock. I’ve got half a mind to tell her to run, but if I do, she’ll listen.

And if she runs, I’ll chase her.

And if I chase her, I’ll catch her.

And if I catch her… I’ll make her wish I hadn’t.

She looks ready to run anyway, so I call out to her before she can get her feet in motion.

“Soren?”

She doesn’t turn back to face me, but the pause in movement tells me she’s listening.

“Don’t wear a bra.”