Page 34

Oh, for the love of…

He rummaged around in the back of the car before shutting the trunk. I couldn’t see what was in his hand. His coat was in the way.

Stronger rope? Duct tape for my mouth?

As soon as he turned around, his eyes met mine through the gap. I let the curtain fall. If we were playing chicken, I lost, because I grabbed a few bags off the desk and bolted into the bathroom.

I needed a shower. That is what I told myself.

I turned the taps and let the tub fill, and steam rose and softened the edges of the mirror. I unwrapped the cotton scarf from my hair and set it carefully on the side of the sink. It smelled of his soap and my shea hair masque. I did not put it down for long.

I did not ask myself why I disliked it when he was not close to me. Or how his presence could make my heart beat a little faster. Or the glaringly obvious fact that he was a professional killer and we lived worlds apart.

❦ ❦ ❦

The last remnants of the steel box were gone. My hair was clean and shone again, soft beneath my fingers and smelling of coconut and shea. It reminded me of my aunt’s salon on a Saturday morning. Tau had promised I could speak to her on the burner phone once we reached New York. The truth was, I was also looking forward to seeing the Big Apple.

I cracked the bathroom door open. Steam rolled out around me.

He sat on the bed, long legs crossed at the ankle, a newspaper in his hands. It was folded small, the way a man holds something he is not really reading. When he didn’t look up, I slipped out of the bathroom and went to the bags.

I felt him behind me before I saw his reflection in the mirror. I hadn’t even heard the newspaper rustle.

“Bedtime.”

He had driven all day and must be tired. I had napped, and possibly drooled a little.

“I just need to put these on,” I said, lifting my hand out of the bag.

He took a step back at the sight of the black lace, but he did not look away. My baggy T-shirt was long enough for modesty, so I bent to put my underwear on. The cotton brushed my thighs. I could feel his gaze like a hand between my shoulder blades. His eyes never left my back. His empty hand flexed.

By the time I lay down on the bed, he had the rope in his hand. The jute whispered through his fingers, and the earthy smell of it drifted across the room. Kink or precaution. I wondered if he was ready to admit what was growing between us.

He sat on the bed just below my feet and rested his hand on my ankle. It was warm and enormous. I stretched my legs out and laid my feet on his lap. His eyes flicked up, but this time I didn’t give him my words. I placed my hands beneath my head and watched him begin to wind the rope around my ankles and legs.

He worked slowly. Each loop settled against my skin like a held breath. Every few turns, he slid two fingers beneath the rope, testing, and every time his fingertips grazed my skin, the heat went up my legs and into my chest.

“If anything pinches,” he said, low, his eyes on his hands, “you tell me.”

“I will.”

I would not. But it was nice to be asked.

We both knew I wasn’t about to run. But this was something he needed and I desired. When I wore his ropes, he couldn’t take his eyes off me.

Chapter 16

Tau

This was why the Pakhan took such illogical actions. The right woman could turn any man into a fool, and Vadim had fought what his wife represented until the fight no longer mattered. I was the one coiling rope around Zuri’s wrists, but she was the one who owned them.

Her hands had come out from beneath her head and settled before me, one crossed over the other, offered without a word. The jute whispered as it slid through my fingers. Beneath it, her pulse beat quick and warm against my knuckles. I felt the heat of her eyes on me as I worked.

The sight of that lace travelling up her legs had taken up residence in my head. I had cursed the long T-shirt that blocked my view of it sliding into place.

“You’re very proficient at this.”

Her voice wasn’t the chipper one from the car. Or the excited one from the shops. It was the sultry one from that morning, when she had woken up with the word yes on her lips. One word. It had left me wondering what she was saying yes to.