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I furrowed my brow. “You can read my mind?”
He turned back. “No. Just your emotions. Especially when you’re excited or angry or horny. I told you we’re mates.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t at all sleepy. I swallowed a spurt of panic and sat up in the bed.
He turned back. “What?”
“We really are mates?” I honestly hadn’t believed him the first time. Not that I thought he’d lied, he was just…confused.
He nodded, his eyes on my face. His mouth tugged sideways in a whimsical smile. “Would it be so bad?”
My heart hammered in my chest. The panic spread out from my center to my fingers and toes. Fight or flight. I recognized the symptoms, but I could do neither. So I stared at him, mind whirling.
“I figured it was all in my head.”
He crouched in front of the bed and took one of my hands in his. “Talk to me, Ridley. Tell me why you’re scared.”
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“Because you’re a freaking syndicate prince! And even if you weren’t, I’m a rogue slayer. If we get out of this alive, I’m going to have to disappear.”
“Fuck that.” He grabbed my arms. “If you think I’m going to just let you walk away when this is over…”
“You have to. I’ll only bring you down.”
“No way.” His eyes narrowed and his lips firmed. “We’ll figure it out. You’re it for me. I’m not letting you go.”
“Zaq. Be reasonable. Even if we could make this all go away—SI, your father—it would never work. No.” I gave a firm shake of my head. “I won’t accept the bond.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. I could tell I’d hurt him, and that hurt me. But he deserved my honesty.
“Then I’ll just have to change your mind,” he gritted.
“You can’t.”
“No?” He stood up, pulling me with him. His mouth came down on my mine. Hard, demanding.
I pushed at his chest, but it was like fighting myself. With a whimper, I opened to him. His tongue swept into my mouth, telling me without words I was his and he was never letting me go.
Our bodies pressed against each other, fitting together like we were made for each other. I felt myself weakening.
A part of me—my soft, vulnerable underbelly—longed to agree. To believe that love could actually happen to a woman like me. A woman who’d closed herself off to emotion. A woman who lived only to kill.
Zaq sensed me softening. Of course he did.
He eased the kiss. Gave my lips a sweet, hot lick.
His breath sighed out. He rested his forehead against mine, one hand stroking my lower back.
“I love you, Ridley Crawford. I love you because you’re a badass. I love you because you’re a survivor. I love you because you’re not the emotionless killing-machine you think you are, and most of all, I love you because you’re you—complicated as fuck, but that just makes you interesting.”
The words reverberated up and down my spine like he’d twanged a string deep inside me. I was gripped by a yearning so powerful I could barely breathe.
My chin quivered. “You can’t love me.” They were the hardest words I’d ever said. But I knew they were also the right thing to say.
“Yes, I can.”
