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Phoenix curls to her side and erupts into a peal of giggles. “No, you wouldn’t.”
I sit beside her on the mattress and turn her onto her back. Phoenix gazes up at me, her eyes sparkling with delight. She’s so sweet and open and trusting. I want to erase the little bastard who took her virginity and besmirched what is mine.
“Tell me who I need to kill.” My voice is calm, reasonable, and coaxing.
I thread my fingers through her silky hair and spread them back into the halo.
Now, I sound like Crius.
I try to tell myself that Crius would sooner sell a woman than protect her, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling like shit.
“He isn’t worth the effort,” she murmurs. “Besides, I don’t want you murdering anyone.”
Too late.
My hands are so stained with sin, it’s a surprise she can’t smell the blood on my fingers.
A lump forms at the base of my throat, awakening my long-dead conscience. I shouldn’t keep asking but now that I’ve started, I can’t stop.
“Would you turn away from me if I murdered someone?”
“Who?” she asks.
“The kind of man who hurts women.”
“That would make you a hero.” She stretches out her arms for a hug. “Murder is okay if it’s in self-defense. It’s noble if you do it to protect someone else.”
It’s impossible to tell if these are Phoenix’s true sentiments or if it’s the drink talking, but hearing those words loosen a knot of tension around my conscience.
I lean down and place a kiss on the tip of her nose.
One of Phoenix’s arms closes around my neck. Her other hand races toward my erection.
“When are we going to have sex?” she whines.
I grab her wrist before she can arouse me to a point beyond return and save those desires for tomorrow.
After she has recovered from her hangover.
“Ask me again when you’re sober.”
Peeling her arm away from my neck, I move off the bed, leaving Phoenix gazing up at me from the mattress. Undressing her will be an exercise in temptation. I can’t imagine what it will be like to lie beside her in bed.
Phoenix remains silent as I take off my clothes and hang them over a chair. Part of me hopes she’s already fallen asleep because that will make resisting her so much easier. I climb back onto the bed in my boxers and remove her skirt and shoes.
As I settle her under the covers, she stirs, making my cock twitch.
“When I was little, I used to fantasize about murdering my dad,” she murmurs, her tone wistful. “He used to say all women were whores and I was no different.”
“Men like him don’t deserve wives, let alone daughters,” I say through clenched teeth and slip under the covers beneath her.
“That’s one of the reasons I like you so much.”
“There’s more?”
She slides a hand down my bare chest. “You’re the opposite of judgmental. I could tell you all my filthiest fantasies, like how I’ve always wanted to have sex in public where everyone could see me.”
Groaning, I turn her onto her side, where her eager fingers won’t roam into mischief. “A conversation like this needs to wait until tomorrow.”
