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It feels like my body is on autopilot as I strip out of my dress. I pull on a pair of comfy shorts and a T-shirt before going through my skincare routine.
When I’m ready for bed, I stand in the middle of my room and stare at the closed door.
If I had known he was an assassin when I met him, I would’ve freaked out, but after getting to know him a little, I trust he won’t hurt me.
I trust that he’ll do everything he can to keep me alive.
I trust an assassin.
Slowly, I walk to the door, and not making a sound, I open it. My bare feet are silent on the floor as I sneak down the hallway. Reaching Max’s room, I pause when I see the door is slightly ajar.
My breathing slows as I peek into the bedroom, and seeing him checking his weapon before he sets it down on the bed has my heart skipping a beat.
Suddenly he murmurs, “You can come in.”
Jesus.
I place a hand against the doorjamb as I take a step into the room. “How did you know I was here?”
“I felt you.” His eyes flick to me as he pulls the tie free from around his neck.
My abdomen flushes with heat, and I have to wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Sure, the man was hot before I learned the truth about him, but now that I know how dangerous he really is, it’s as if the attraction I feel for him has been multiplied by a thousand.
I do like a bad boy as much as the next woman.
But he’s not a bad boy, Camille. He’s a violent man. There’s a huge difference.
His closed-off personality had me curious, but now I’m just downright ravenous for more information about him.
But I’m also cautious because the last thing I want to do is to piss him off.
My eyebrows pinch together as I ask, “Can I ask questions?”
He shrugs off his jacket, and when he starts to roll up his dress shirt’s sleeves, my eyes drink in the sight of the veins snaking beneath his skin.
“What do you want to know?”
My gaze darts back to his face, and when he walks toward me, I backpedal until I’m pressed against the glass banister. I gesture to the living room. “Can we talk down there?”
He nods and waits for me to walk before following me. Every nerve in my back tingles, and I can’t resist the urge to glance over my shoulder every few seconds.
Max waits for me to take a seat on the couch before he sits down on the armchair. Leaning forward, he rests his forearms on his thighs and links his fingers together.
Nervously I tuck some hair behind my ear. My eyes dart around the open living space before settling on him, then I let out a nervous chuckle. “I actually don’t know what I want to ask.”
The corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. “There are the usual questions. Why am I an assassin? How did I get into it? How many people have I killed?”
Another nervous chuckle bursts from me, and I quickly shake my head. “Who was that man?”
“Rusnak. He’s also an assassin, but there’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“If you say so,” I whisper. Sucking in a deep breath, I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around my shins. Giving him a sheepish smile, I ask, “How did you become one?”
Max glances down at his linked hands as he answers, “When I met my best friend, he introduced me to a different side of the world.” Shaking his head, he lifts his eyes to me again. “It’s something I’m really good at, and it felt natural.”
My eyes widen. “Killing people feels natural to you?”
Max lets out a deep breath. “I don’t consider my targets people.”
