Page 31 of Heist in Paradise

My grin was menacing, and I knew she regretted those words when her face paled dramatically. “Is that what you really want, princess?”

“I—no.”

I snarled as I used her ponytail to turn her head sideways and pressed into her body. Her eyes widened at the jut of my erection, followed by a beautiful flush that spread all the way down her neck. “So predictable,” I growled, dragging my lips over her ear. “Uptight little rich girl wants to be fucked by the trash.”

Oliva bristled and tugged uselessly at my fist in her hair. “Let. Me. Go.” Her mouth said one thing, her body something else. “Now.” She was arching toward me, her hips seeking mine before she wrenched herself backward. Her glare was an added aphrodisiac. She wanted to murder me, and God, I wanted to let her try.

But I didn’t trust her. And I sure as shit wasn’t about to let her get under my skin.

“No more lies.” I gave her hair a final warning tug. “Do it again, princess, and I’ll kill you. Put my crew in danger, and I’ll take my time with it.”

She went still. Her lashes fluttered, tears dampening them beautifully. “I’m here for Molly,” she said. “That’s it. Don’t put your trust issues on me. I’ve been nothing but transparent. You’ve been shady as hell.”

“I’m the bad guy, princess. Shady comes with the territory.”

Her jaw clicked shut. She glared and cried and promised vengeance with her eyes, and I almost kissed her. Instead, I released my grip and took a step back. She immediately sagged in relief, then turned to the doors, opening them with a violent snap.

Of course, she had to have the last word. “Touch me like that again, Jax, and I’ll dig up every dirty skeleton you have.”

It was only once I was alone that I realized my headache was gone.

OLIVIA

I was done.

Done with distractions. Done with pointless war rooms. Done with Jax. And I was definitely done with Madoc.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with me.

“I want my binder back,” I demanded as I stormed into the main bedroom on the top floor, where Madoc was doing God-knows-what. He was standing at the foot of the massive king bed, head cocked like the answers to the universe were stitched into the duvet. He didn’t react to my entrance—not even a twitch—and I was starting to suspect he was some sub-human cyborg, unfeeling and unattached. Here for the kicks and nothing else.

Very slowly, he straightened. “Why?” His soft, inflectionless tone made me bristle. God, between him and Jax, I was at risk of developing a stomach ulcer. Or worse, frown lines.

Then why are you turned on?

I wasn’t. I couldn’t be.

I was, and I hated myself more than I ever had. Jax was an unhinged boiling pot of issues, and I shouldn’t be fixating on the way his eyes had flashed electric blue, or the way his muscles had bunched tight across his ridiculous shoulders, or the way he’d pinned me to the glass, the hard jut of his erection…

I shook my head, banishing the thoughts. He threatened to kill me, and I knew he meant it. Just like I knew he would enjoy it because he was a bad guy, and somewhere I’d forgotten that.

I suspected Madoc was even worse.

“It’s mine,” I reiterated firmly, crossing my arms. “You have no right to keep it.”

His cheek lifted in a smirk. “Finders keepers.”

“Are you five?”

He angled his head toward me, so I was stuck glaring at his side profile, the slope of his cheek, and the smiling curve of his jaw, the dark hair that curled behind his heavily pierced ears. He had stretchers, and I wanted to find them repulsive, but I didn’t. My brain was working against me, and I needed to get it back on track.

“What happened?” He asked, sounding amused. “Did the bad man hurt you?”

That would make him happy. “Don’t try to distract me.”

“You’re crying. It’s distracting.”

I wiped my eyes harshly with my sleeve. “The deal is off. I want my binder back. And my knife. Take your stupid painting and leave.”