Page 134 of Twisted Proposal

Time stopped.

The most mesmerizing pair of green eyes I had ever seen stared back at me, widened in shock and unmistakable fear.

A maid, trapped in the act of backing away, frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

The wires of her headphones dangled uselessly from her ears, music still playing—a haunting melody that somehow filled the silence between us.

Her chest heaved with each panicked breath, the movement drawing my gaze to the curve of her breasts beneath the starched uniform.

The delicate hollow of her throat pulsed with her racing heartbeat, and I found myself wanting to press my lips against that very spot.

Blood rushed in my ears as our gazes locked.

Something primal and possessive unfurled in my chest—a sensation I'd never felt before, not even during my most vicious kills.

My hand, still gripping the gun, lowered slightly.

Not out of mercy or hesitation, but because my body was suddenly battling a different, more daring instinct than violence.

Lust.

She must have read the intent in my eyes because a shiver visibly ran through her slender frame. Her lips—full, plush, and slightly parted—trembled. The pink tip of her tongue darted out to wet them, and my cock hardened painfully in response.

"Fuck," I whispered, the word slipping out unwillingly.

For one heartbeat, two, three, we remained locked in this silent battle.

Her fear against my hunger.

She'd heard everything.

Seen everything.

By all rights, she should already be dead.

Instead, I took a step toward her.

She swallowed hard, her delicate throat working in a way that had my fingers itching to wrap around it, not to harm, but to feel her pulse racing beneath my touch.

"Please," she whispered, the single word carrying a universe of meaning.

This woman had seen me torture and kill a man.

She had heard confessions that could destroy my family.

She knew exactly what I was capable of.

Yet all I could think about was what her skin would taste like under my tongue.

Ishouldkill her.

Ineededto kill her.

But as I stared into those haunting green eyes, I knew with bone-deep certainty that killing her wasn't an option. My fingers twitched with the need to grab her, to mark her, to make her understand that her life as she knew it had just ended.

She belonged to me now—body, breath, and blood.

"You know who I am," I growled, stepping closer until I could smell her fear-laced perfume. "And now I know who you are."