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I sense it in some strange animalistic way and step into her.
She takes a step back.
But there is nowhere to go.
When her back hits the wall, my hands go up on both sides of her head.
This time, I am composed. I drained every possible emotion into the salty ocean this morning. Now we can play.
I bring my face so close to her that I can lick that haughtiness right off her lips.
There are two options.
One, to kick her off this island, possibly call Tsariuk himself and confront him, telling him his daughter is not on my island.
Option two is to find out what exactly Katura had in mind and keep her here to see what she can do, possibly let her stay in touch with Tsariuk and get some intel on him instead. Meanwhile, keeping this wild thing close. Very close.
This sounds like a lot more fun, considering we have unfinished business with this tigress. She could be my double spy. And her daddy has a lot of connections, which can be helpful if I use his daughter as collateral.
Smiling coldly, I study her face.
“And now, kitten,” I say in a low voice that gives her the right idea of what Archer Crone is capable of, “I have all the time in the world for you.”
She smiles hesitantly and tries to duck under my arm to get away, but I catch her with my arm around her waist and press her into the wall with my body.
“Tsk-tsk,” I tease her.
The sparkle in her eyes flares up in what I think is anger. She has beautiful eyes, rimmed by ridiculously thick long eyelashes, and her haughty gaze goes straight to my cock.
“Not so fast,” I hiss, inhaling the nervousness that makes her throat bob as she swallows, and I get hard in all the right places. “You are going to tell me what you are doing on Zion. And what it has to do with Aleksei Tsariuk. Start.”
4
KAT
I knewsomething was wrong the moment Archer walked into his villa. His movements were back to normal—calculated and confident.
And now this—he brings up Aleksei Tsariuk.
Motherfucker, how?
How could he have possibly found out? My satellite phone is on the Eastside. He couldn’t have possibly talked to my dad or uncle. And even if he did—granted, he does a meticulous background check on everyone who is on this island—they would’ve never told him.
I haven’t spent even a month on this island, and my cover is blown.
Frustration washes over me, but I need to act fast.
I need Tsariuk’s money.
I need those visas to Australia.
My future—and my dad’s—depends on this.
Plan B. There is always a plan B.
There is too much harshness burning in Archer’s eyes. But I’m an adrenalin junkie. Danger arouses me.
“Start talking, Miss Ortiz,” he says coldly, and his eyes sparkle with triumph.
