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I take her arm and lead her inside, then turn and bolt the door and enter the security code. Her head turns, watching me drop my keys in my pocket.

“Sure you’ve got enough security? Where’s the nuclear warhead?”

The corner of my mouth quirks, but I don’t smirk. This is the first time tonight I’ve seen the girl I remember, the only girl who was worth wearing a rented suit for. But a little well-placed sarcasm isn’t going to distract me from why we’re here.

She licks her lips and looks around. The place is in perfect order, as per usual since I’m rarely stoned enough to let things go to seed.Go to seed, I think with another smirk threatening. That’s an expression my ma picked up from her ma and probably the ma before her.

Studying the metal artwork with LED lighting, Laurel tilts her head. Against my better angels, I’m tempted to tell her the artist is female and gave me the piece as a gift after I tied her down and made her come three times in an hour. Would that get a rise out of Laurelyn and make her jealous? It’s been a long time since she and I were a thing, but something hot and ungovernable still runs between us.

Laurel heads to the drapes and peeks out, like she’s a date I’ve brought home who’s free to explore my place. The bigger question is why I let her. Not only do I almost never bring women home, this certainly isn’t date night.

Putting a hand against the bulletproof glass, she looks out over the park that was mostly paid for with C Crue money. We’re bad guys, but we do some good, especially when it improves the property value of something we own.

“Nice view. It’s the first time I’ve seen the new park finished. It’s impressive from up here.”

“Impressive from down there too.”

“What are you doing about the neighborhoods south of Aberdeen? Gonna fix that area too?”

“Who are you? The city planner?”

She turns, leveling her stunning green eyes at me. “Just curious.”

“I know the feeling.” I walk into the guest bathroom and wash the blood from my face. I’ll wash the cut later and pop a staple in it, but for now it’s all right.

I return to find her in the same place. Smart play. She’s not a guest and is being good by not getting shrill about being abducted. Good behavior now though is too late.

“Last chance to come clean.”

“There’s nothing to come clean about.” Her voice is steady. Has been all night, and I like her for it. If she’d broken down into hysterical crying, or worse gotten mouthy and defiant, it would have pissed me off more.

“Is that so?” I unbutton my bloodstained shirt. “We’ll see. Take off your dress.”

She clasps her hands together in front of her in a defensive gesture, but is otherwise quiet. Good for her for not panicking.

“If the FBI wants in my bedroom, they’ve gotta buy me a better drink.”

She licks her lips, and her gaze flickers to the side, losing eye contact. Is that it then? She’s working for the feds? If so, where the hell are they? Once C and ‘Vil arrived, she was in Little Mo’s basement with five straight-up killers and three guns drawn. They should’ve roared in like it was a three-alarm fire.

Stepping closer, I whisper in her ear, “You can take the dress off yourself. Or I’ll do it.” That gets me a shiver from her. Good.

My gaze moves to the keypad next to the door. Not a beep. If she’s a fed or a civilian informant, what is her team waiting for?

Going to the kitchen I set my hands on the marble for a moment, waiting. Then I take the shears from the butcher’s block and walk back to her.

“Last chance to call your backup while you’re still clothed.”

Her body shudders, so she is afraid. But she doesn’t call for help, which tells me she probably can’t.

The tips of my fingers dip into the cleft between her glorious breasts. I pull the fabric away from her body and cut it. Once I’ve got it started, I tear it. The fabric’s elastic helps me out by springing apart, so the dress gapes at the slit I create.

Her lace underwear’s a pale champagne color that I’ve got to admit is pretty much perfect. Pushing the dress off her shoulders, I look closely for devices. When I touch the bra’s clasp, she grabs my arm and shakes her head.

“You’ve seen enough.”

Hardly, I think.Not unless I get you naked with your thighs book-ending my face. “These days devices can fit on the head of a pin.”

“Then give me something else to put on, and I’ll take my bra off and give it to you.”