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My step-mom is outraged about the choices I’ve made but nobody’s more furious than my former agent. He’s been begging me to crawl back to showbiz and I’ve seen that man on his knees more times than necessary. He thinks I’m crazy for doing this and according to him, I’m wasting the opportunity of a lifetime. I usually just ignore him. Everyone always has their own opinion about me and what I should do, but they don’t see things the way I see them.
Showbiz is wonderful but it can also be daunting. People criticize your looks, the way you act, the way you speak, whether you slouched at the press conference and why you’re not dating the hottest, new actor on the screen. It can get overwhelming at times. Out here it’s more peaceful, and I’d rather be a nobody out here than somebody out there with the vultures....
Crossing the hallway, I tense when I feel a tremor along my spine and it feels as if someone just breathed down my neck. Or as if I’m being watched. Frowning, I walk over to the window and look out but I can’t see anything out of the ordinary. Darkness has fallen and the ocean looks black and lovely. A lighthouse glimmers in the distance, a helicopter flying low down by the horizon and I can vaguely hear the sound of the propellers.
It’s a night just like any other and nothing to get worked up about. Shrugging, I walk into my bedroom and do my little evening routine, where I rub about a dozen lotions and potions on my skin before blowing myself a kiss in the mirror. It’s an old habit...something a life coach told me about ages ago, when I needed to learn how to love myself more.
The whole coaching thing was a bit of scandal.
Reporters found out about it, wrote articles about me and said I live in bubble and called me a spoiled brat. Why would I need to love myself when the whole world loves me? Maybe they were right but this bubble is all I’ve ever known and their comments still hurt like a bitch. Sometimes, I wish we all could just live in a world full of glitter and unicorns where nothing bad ever happens.
I take off my favorite robe, tossing it on my antique chair before crawling into my plush bed. It belonged to an 18-th century princess and whenever I sleep in it, I really do feel like royalty. Turning to the side, I hug my pillow and try to ignore the sudden shivers down my spine. It’s so quiet outside, eerily quiet and yet it feels like I’m not alone.
There are very few neighbors around and nobody tends to pay me a visit this late. Other than my crazy old agent of course, but I’ll scream if he decides to pop up. He has promised to leave me alone this week but he’s pretty unhinged so I can never know for sure. I curl up, closing my eyes and try to drift off to sleep but freeze when I hear the sound of something cracking.
Creak...creak...
A frown forms between my brows and I turn around right when a figure dressed in all black, silently crawls through the window. I scream, defensively holding my arms and legs up when the man falls onto my bed. I get a sharp whiff ofCool Waterwhen he looms over me, pinning my hands over my head and I stop screaming from pure shock. His mouth is a little too wide for his jawline, the body muscular but lean as if he belongs in medieval times, hiding in shadows and ready to put his sharp daggers to use.
My pulse ticks like a bomb in my veins, my toes curling and I thrash, terrified of the hard curve to his mouth. He’s the kind of man that doesn’t flinch when a gun is shoved down his throat and there’s a cold, clinical precision to him. He probably would have been a fine surgeon but instead of saving lives, he takes them.
The mattress jolts when he uses his knees to keep me in place before removing the black hood that’s been covering his mean, green eyes. Whimpering, I register his true face and it belongs on a dark angel. One that I think has come to clip my wings.
Chapter Three
Harm
Frowning, I look down at the girl. She squirms underneath me, her face twisted in horror, eyes distant and yet I feel so fucking close. Not just physically, but with other, deeper parts of me and I try to avoid going that deep. But with her, I don’t have a choice. She yanks at her thin wrists, trying to get away and her hips rub against mine. Shots of lust assault me, and I guessed she’d be beautiful just by watching her back but I didn’t know she’d be luminous.
A beauty so rare that I no longer can remember the last time I saw something ugly.
She revamps everything and I feel like the night, cloaking the stars as I loom over her and my heart starts pounding. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this and her face has cemented the decision. Her bone structure is subtle, her lips show stopping but it’s the siren eyes that get me. They’re a sexy, black color and they suck me in, pulling me forcefully beneath the surface.
I groan, leaning my forehead against hers to breathe her in. Her scent is the only thing I’m able to take right now and make mine. She fidgets underneath me, panting and her breaths hit me in the face.
They’re soft, pleading and I open my eyes, watching her stare back at me with a stricken expression.
“Don’t be afraid and don’t push me away,” I whisper. “You’re going to need me.”
There’s somebody out there that wants her dead and I have a couple of suspicions. I’ve never seen a room this excessive and her lavish wealth is obvious even to a guy like me. Someone may be after her hard earned pennies. Either that or an ex-lover wants to extract revenge.
Her head thrashes on the pillow and she doesn’t believe me. “Please, don’t kill me,” she whimpers as the stricken look on her face turns frozen. “Take whatever you want, take it all.”
Tempting words. She makes me want to take them literally. I feel like I already know her, as if she already exists in a future where we’re together. My stomach sinks when I think about what I was hired to do. If I had gone through with it, I never would have experienced this feminine wonder and I feel sick.
How the fuck did I allow it to go this far?
Cursing, I slam my hand into the headboard and she cries out. The girl is piss-pants terrified but there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. She’ll never have to feel fear in her life ever again. Her life is in my hands and I won’t let anything happen to it. From now on, one of the highest ranking assassins answers to her. And if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll accept my help but there’s a sparkle in her eyes that tells me she may put up a fight.
“I don’t want you to try to fight me or you’ll just hurt yourself in the process,” I rasp, stroking her throat with my thumb, “I’m going to let go now and we’ll take it nice and easy.”
She licks her lips. “Nice and e...easy,” she stutters. Her head moves in a nod as if she’s desperate for me to follow through with my promise but it’s hard to let go. I reluctantly pull away, as if I’m withdrawing a needle when I was supposed to shoot up my veins with an addictive drug. She lays there for a moment, not trusting me and then she sits up and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
The ocean wind blows in through the open window, causing a hair strand to land in the hollow of her throat and she gulps before wiping it away. I rise when I realize I’m probably crowding her and she follows the movement, her hands clutching the sheets. They’ll be clutching them like that when I pound into her and then it won’t be from fear but from trying to hold on. There’s an urgency in my body to unload in her, have her swallow my evils and make them good.
I can’t erase the past and I don’t care to but what I do want is to be alone with her one night, tell her everything about myself and let her be the only woman I’ve ever confided in. I don’t talk to any specialists, I don’t fucking journal but if she ever finds the patience to listen to me, then I won’t need any other redemption. All I’ll need is her silent understanding.
Fidgeting and dragging her legs up to her chest, she whispers, “If you’re not here to steal anything then you came here to kill me, didn’t you?” Her eyes widen and she intakes a breath. “You’re a hitman.”
