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I pull in a breath and push it out. “Okay. I agree to your terms. Though you probably could have just offered to pay me a lot rather than going through the motions of kidnapping me first.”
“I couldn’t be sure that ye were not in Constantine’s pocket.” He settles back with an aggravated sigh. “I’m still not absolutely sure.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s wishful thinking on your part, it sounds like.”
He stares me down for a few seconds until I flush. He reaches in the pocket of his suit jacket, producing a list handwritten in tight, masculine capital letters. I pick up the piece of paper and sit back, my brow furrowing as I read it.
It’s a list of documents that he will need forged. My eyes widen as I take in the breadth of exactly what he is asking for.
“This is…” I glance up nervously. “You really want to smuggle eight shipping containers into…” I reference the sheet again. “Four different ports in four different African countries? Plus, you want new identification papers for everyone involved at all four ports?— “
He crosses his legs, his expression carefully blank. “Are ye saying ye can’t do it?”
“I didn’t say that,” I hedge. “But you’re asking for a lot. I mean… what could you possibly want with eight shipping containers? Those things are massive!”
He tilts his head to the side. “The client wants a lot of guns. So I am giving them a lot of fucking guns. If ye’ve got a problem with that, I would say ye can go fuck yerself.” He looks directly at me, his green eyes pinning me in place. “Can ye do it?”
I swallow, nodding softly. “Yes. I’ll need… things. Reference materials. Several printers. Probably some special inks and waxes for seals. Contact paper.”
He stops me by putting up a hand. “Make me a list. I’ll get it for ye.”
I scrunch up my face. “Hades?”
He rolls his head on his shoulders. “What?”
“I’ll need a phone.”
His head snaps toward me, his look black as night. “What for?”
I straighten my spine, shooting him a glare. “Research.”
He studies my face for a few moments, clearly measuring my worth. “Okay. But Persephone…”
He leans forward, catching my hand. I still, my eyes widening. His free hand comes up to cup my face, then it slides around to grip the back of my neck.
“Dinnae forget what we have just agreed upon. And dinnae think that I’ll forget, either.”
I stare into his green eyes, blinking rapidly. “Of course,” I whisper.
His lips twitch. His eyes slide down to my mouth, then to my tits even though they are covered.
My nipples pebble, stiffening at the attention. The breath leaves my lungs in a soft gasp.
He could have me right now. Right here, on this uncomfortable wicker couch, out in the open where anyone could see. I would let him.
No, I would encourage him.
I think that fact is written across my face. He smirks for a half second before he turns me loose, shoving me back.
He points a finger at me. “Make the list, sweetheart.”
Then he gets up and swaggers off, disappearing from view. And I am left, cursing myself and my terrible taste in men.
If I had any sense, I would take that sexual tension and shove it deep down somewhere.
I would certainly be safer that way.
Hades is a vicious psychopath. I know that.
