Page 79 of Ruthless Touch

“Yeah, right. He only has eyes for you. If you can’t see it, then you’re blind.”

“I’mnotblind,” I say defensively, folding my arms. “We’ve already dated, and KD moved on. He and Priscilla are deeply in love and obsessed with each other.”

“Goyangi-ne,” he says, the side of his mouth quirking in a lopsided grin. His eyes are still set on the road as we break speed limit laws. “I’m a man. I know these things. That guy’s got it bad for you.”

My belly flutters with unease. I’ve long ago stopped thinking of KD in a sexual light. But hehasinsisted over the years that we remain close—he immediately started dating Priscilla, my roommate, once we were put on this assignment in South Korea.

…he even got me the job at Vanguard in the first place.

I shove those thoughts aside and decide to give Gun a dose of his own medicine.

“So what you’re saying is, takes one to know one?” I ask in return, raising my brows and half smirking. “Because you two seemed to be having some pissing contest back there.”

In a first, Gun’s ears go red. The grin on his face vanishes, and he clears his throat, changing topics back to his loft apartment in Pangyo.

The accommodations are nicer than his love nest in Mullae-dong. The loft is spacious, with heated flooring, two big bedrooms, and mood lighting.

“Really?” I ask, flicking on a light switch. The room dims into deep violet with twinkling silver specs that are supposed to be starlight.

Gun shrugs and says, “So I like to set the mood. Sue me, feline.”

For the first night, I insist Gun takes the bed. His second bedroom is unfortunately converted into an office, which means the options are share a bed or one of us crashes on the couch.

“Wecouldshare,” he says, shrugging. Or doing his best to, given his injured shoulder. “It’s an American King. Plenty of room for us both.”

I stubbornly park myself on the couch. Then end up regretting it when I develop a crick in my neck after only two hours sprawled out on the stiff leather sofa.

Gun’s out cold when I nudge the bedroom door open and pad inside. I gently lower myself onto the far edge of the bed with the extra pillow and blanket he’s given me and pretend I’m not climbing into bed with the man who’s supposed to be my mortal enemy.

This is about comfort and rest and nothing else.

But as my head touches the pillow, a sleepy Gun murmurs, “I knew you’d come, Goyangi-ne.”

And then he’s out again.

On day two, we sort out what the fuck it is we’re even doing. I’m now essentially a fugitive on the run from the Cheongryong, fired by Vanguard, and still with a vendetta I’m on a kamikaze mission to carry out.

Gun sits down across from me at the table in the dining area between the living room and kitchen. The loft is so wide and open-spaced that it almost feels strange compared to the cramped place I share with Priscilla.

“We could get you out of the country,” he says. “I’ve managed to avoid my father and the others for the past couple days—they think I’m suffering a severe hangover after another wild night partying.”

“Smart alibi.”

“It helps that Joon corroborated it. Anyway, sooner than later, I’ve got to return. But you… you can make it out. Fly back to the States. Start over new.”

“If you think that really sounds like me, then you don’t know me.” I scoot back my chair and move to stand up.

Gun grabs hold of my hand to stop me, pulling lightly to signal he wants me to sit back down.

“Sit, feline.”

“Am I dog or a cat? Don’t give me commands like a dog.”

“Please,” he adds. The sincerity in his tone and on his face makes my heart flutter. He hasn’t let go of my hand, his touch so instinctual that it’s a reminder how good it feels.

…how natural it is when his skin touches mine in any way.

I’ve never had that thought before—never had this kind of reaction to a man simply grabbing my hand.