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“No,” I tell him, keeping my voice light as I do my best to block out every single worry about Chloe getting away, every memory of him laughing with Dante about how they’re going touseher like a pawn. “Chloe’s out like a light, and I dozed for a little bit. But I guess I just have too much adrenaline leftover from the fight at the warehouse.”
He nods. “That can happen. After the first gunfight I was in, I drank half a bottle of whiskey and still couldn’t sleep. It gets easier. And you did well. A hell of a lot better than I did, my first time out.”
He chuckles quietly, and it fucking hurts. If I didn’t know what I know, the way he’s looking at me right now would make my stomach flutter. It would almost make me believe that those moments when he seemed to care about me were real.
I don’t know if Chloe has made it out of the house yet, but either way, I need to keep him distracted. I can’t let him go poking around downstairs and realize that she’s fled.
“Um, I’m actually glad you’re awake,” I say quickly, moving toward Maddoc, desperate to keep his focus on me in case Chloe makes a noise as she slips out the back door. “I was going to head to the kitchen for something to eat, but…”
I dig deep, putting everything I have into summoning back the way I was feeling about him before.
Before I heard that damning conversation of his.
Before I knew about his betrayal.
I rest a hand on his chest, right over the soulless void where his blackened heart beats, and let him see everything I felt then—before—in my eyes. “But since you’re here, I wanted to say thank you.”
My gut twists as I speak the words, but I ignore it, keeping my focus on Maddoc.
“For Chloe,” I go on, smiling softly up into his eyes. “For saving her. Tonight meant everything to me.”
It’s the same thing I said to Logan, and I meant it with all my heart when I whispered it to him, but right now, it’s just a performance. The most important one of my life, with stakes a hell of a lot higher than just getting a few dollars tucked into my g-string.
Maddoc stares down at me, his face half in shadow at this angle. Then one hand brushes lightly down my side, skirting around the stitches at my waist.
“You’re welcome, butterfly,” he murmurs quietly, sounding so sincere that it makes me hate him even more. “Did Logan fix you up?”
I nod, not trusting myself to say anything that isn’t “fuck“ followed by ”you.” But then I hear something in the distance, a faint sound from outside. I’m not sure Maddoc even heard it, and I’m not sure if it’s Chloe, but I can’t afford to have him investigate.
So I do the first thing I can think of to draw his focus. Acting on pure instinct, I go up on my tiptoes and kiss him.
He stiffens, not kissing me back at first, and for a split second, I think I’m truly fucked.
He knows.
He’s going to push me aside and go after her. Chase her. Catch her.
But then it’s like a damn breaks inside him. His arms band around me, hauling me against his tall, broad frame. His lips turn hungry, forcing my mouth open as he backs me against the wall at the base of the stairs and pins me there. He kisses me back, hard and hot and completely unchecked, like he’s been starving for this. Like he can’t help himself.
The kiss feels like being bowled over by a tidal wave, like I’m drowning in it with no hope of surviving.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts, nipping at my lip before sliding his tongue into my mouth again. Devouring me.Consumingme. His hands roam my body as if he’s trying to map every inch of it with the same precision as that damn map in his office, groping and squeezing my ass, my breasts, my hips.
“Goddammit, you taste so good,” he groans. “Why do you have to taste so fucking sweet?”
All of his usual calm control burns up in a flash of heat that feels like it could burn us both to the ground as he grinds against me, his tongue sliding into my mouth like a promise.
His cock thickens, pressing against my stomach, and my heart jackrabbits in my chest.
I want to kill him for his betrayal, but I still wind my arms around him as an undeniable, throbbing heat spills through me. The attraction between us has always been something chemical and dangerous, something that defies reason or logic. And now that the fuse has been lit, it’s too late to stop it.
His lips move down my throat. Biting. Marking. Lighting me up in ways that I hate myself for.
He lied to me.
He wants to use my sister.
He’s the enemy.
