Page 50 of Ruthless Touch

“Time to change your bandages before bed,” he announces, medical supplies already in hand like he’s been planning this moment all day.

“Oh,” I say, eyebrows jumping. I clear my throat, hoping my expression is neutral enough. “Right… it’s been almost twenty-four hours.”

He comes over to settle beside me on the bed, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“You’re going to have to take your top off,” he says plainly, though a slight smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry, Goyangi-ne. I’ll behave myself.”

Still trying to play it cool, I give a small nod and do as he asks. I pull the borrowed t-shirt over my head and let it crumple to the floor.

I’m only in my sports bra.

There’s an uncertain second where neither of us moves, but I’m pretty sure we both feel the charge in the air.

Then, as if deciding it’s now or never, Gun tentatively reaches for me. His touch is gentle and cautious, like he really does want to make it clear he’s behaving himself.

His focus is changing my bandages and nothing else.

But that doesn’t stop the effect he immediately has on me. As soon as his fingers brush my bare skin, I’m left acutely aware of the shiver jolting down my spine.

My breath catches in a way that has nothing to do with the aches and pains and everything to do with how wonderful Gun’s touch is.

How good it feels to be touched by him.

Even in this context.

I’d noticed the same the night in the hotel suite. His kiss left my head spinning, and his hands felt so right on my body that I’d almost been distracted enough not to kill him.

But now it’s so much worse, somehow more intense despite how light his touches are.

He peels away the old gauze and examines the healing scrapes and cuts that map my torso like a roadmap of violence. He’s cautious navigating the bruises that have formed along my ribcage, cognizant of how tender I am in those places.

I try to remain unaffected, focusing on the weapon within easy reach and thinking about how this man issupposedto be my enemy.

I urge myself to do it—grab the shiv and drive it into his throat while he’s distracted by his medical care. He’s close enough that it would be easy.

One quick move and this entire complicated situation is over.

Seconds stretch like hours as I hover at a crossroads between survival and another complicated feeling I can’t name.

The wood feels warm under my thigh, ready to become the solution to all my problems.

But my hand won’t move; it remains frozen in place.

Finally, Gun pulls back with a satisfied grin, his handiwork complete. The grin is so confident and sexy it makes him even more attractive than I already find him. My heart flutters like it never has before.

“All done, Goyangi-ne,” he says, winking as he gathers up the used bandages. “You’ll be back to your true feline form in no time.”

As he rises from the bed and heads for the door, I remain perfectly still, fingers still wrapped around the shiv hidden under my thigh. I’m more confused than I’ve been in a long time, wondering what the hell that was.

It makes no sense, and I can’t begin to understand why.

For the first time in my life, I might be unable to kill someone I’m supposed to.

THIRTEEN

ELISE

I’veslit throats of high-level public figures, stolen state secrets, and snuck into some of the most fortified buildings in the world—but somehow sneaking out of Gun’s apartment feels like the riskiest mission yet.