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“Of course. He steps aside, motioning for me to go first. When I step into the hall, he points and says, “Last door on the left.”
I follow his directions, almost positive he’s staring at my ass while he follows me. At the end of the hall, I push through the closed door only to stop at the delicious scent of him filling the space so entirely. It’s not just scent either. There’s a presence of him here unlike anywhere else in the house.
My gaze sweeps the room. A large bed with mahogany posts sits on my right, framed by two windows overlooking the back garden and, beyond that, a gorgeous view of the open sky. The bedspread is a deep crimson color that reminds me of the hellfire he breathed that day in my yard. Velvet curtains done in crimson and black hang on either side.
Opposite that, a desk and chair sit near a charcoal-colored loveseat that is draped in a soft throw blanket and matching pillows. A stack of books sits on the floor, crooked and ready to topple over.
I whirl at the sound of him behind me.
“This is your bedroom,” I say, noting how cozy he’s managed to make the space. It reminds me of Chaya’s words. A safe space.
“Do you like it?”
I glance at the bed. “It’s…cozier than I expected,” I admit.
He smirks. “Bed’s even more comfortable than it looks.”
Before I can answer, he pushes the door shut with a click, sealing us in together. My heart thuds. My body pulses, and the thrum beneath my skin is full of anticipation. The memory of last night washes over me. The knowledge that he can make me come without being skin-to-skin is a thrill, but it also makes me feel desperate for a world where barriers aren’t needed. Because, somehow, even standing several steps away from him feels incredibly intimate.
“What would you like to discuss?”
“Legion,” I say, not even sure how or where to start.
He waits, giving me time.
“Last night,” I say finally, and his gaze darkens. The mate bond pulls taut between us, both of us straining toward it.
“Did you like it, my little poisoned flower?” he asks, his voice low.
I swallow hard against the urge to tell him I liked it so much that I played an encore alone. “Did you mean what you said?” I ask instead.
He blinks, but there’s no hesitation when he says, “Yes.”
He doesn’t even ask what I’m talking about. For some reason, that makes me believe him even more.
“You said today would be busy. What did you mean?”
I almost expect him to refuse to answer me. Or to make up some bullshit alphahole story about what he’s going to do while I sit and twiddle my thumbs. Either one would have ruined what we’ve built so far.
So, I’m shocked when he says, “Tell me about Uziah.”
“What?”
“He owns a club where the Crimson Roses do business, right?”
“Yes, but how do you know about him? Or the club?”
“I had Klyn look into the people who are after you. He said the client who hired you for your last mission is the one who’s after you now. He couldn’t dig up much else on her, so we need another angle for information.”
I sigh. “I only know her as Em. But Uziah won’t help us. He’s already done all he can.”
“And what exactly is that?”
“He’s the one who made the deal for me. To trade your life for mine.”
His eyes narrow. “And the one who sold you out to them.”
“He was a friend of my father’s, but that doesn’t make him one of the good guys,” I say.
