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With my fingers tightening around the steering wheel, my mind drifts to those prominent cheeks, her round eyes, silky brown hair, square, yet delicate jaw… that high cupid’s bow that begs to be licked.
Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me?
More importantly, what the hell is going on with her? Who is she and what is she doing here? A woman like her, so delicate and soft, doesn’t belong in this cruel world—our world. It’s too harsh for her, but I have to admit… she stands out beautifully.
That wicked gaze she left me with haunts my mind, a touch of darkness weaving through her soul, and I want to reach in and grab it by the throat. Squeeze it just enough that my dick wakes up at the slight tremor of fear that will no doubt shake her flesh.
ANNIKA
Did I think the manI saw in a photo weeks ago was going to be likethatin real life?
No.
Did I think my skin would hold a constant stream of goosebumps during the entirety of our meeting, like I was being shocked the whole time?
No.
Did I think the man I’ve been obsessing over would fixate on me to the point I kept forgetting there were other people in the room?
No. But he did.
I was in a state of disbelief, of unrelenting tension, and something else… something that was making me both want to run and never leave his scrutinizing gaze.
I’m not sure what I expected from this meeting. I know what I hoped for but was certain wasn’t going to happen. Men don’t notice me, not when my best friend and business partner is around. With her golden hair always neat and sleek, her light brown eyes enhanced by perfect make-up, her professional clothes clinging to every delicate curve. She’s full of color, brightness, and confidence, and I’m the one who blends into the background—one with the shadows at times.
This time, though, it wasn’t like that. Even when he addressed her, Ronan Hennessey was looking at me. And no matter how much I prepared myself, I still had no idea what to do with myself.
I would feel guilty for not paying full attention to the business deal we were making, but my part in this usually finishes before this type of meeting takes place. It’s normal for me to be tucked away in a corner, only intervening if someone asks specifics about the paintings. Hanna, or Erika, as the men we just met know her as, is the brains behind it all. I, Annika, not Ingrid, as I told them, craves the adrenaline of this business, but not the leadership of it. So I keep to myself, observing everything, supporting her. This time around, it was different.
After their organization won the black-market auction we launched for the long-lost Dubois painting—The Lady in White—Hanna began her usual research into the buyers. It was then that the photo of Ronan Hennessey fell in my lap, and I had trouble forming words. My skin was damp in a second, my breathing went wild, and my lower belly was doing strange somersaults. Never in my twenty-three years have I had a reaction like this to a man. Let alone just a photo of one. Unbeknownst to her, I started forming my own plan.
My usual shyness went out the damn window in that meeting. I still can’t believe how I talked back to him. Hanna couldn’t either. She asked me afterwards what had gotten into me, but I couldn’t respond. Not yet.
Before I met him, I had so many questions about the wide-shouldered man with eyes as blue as the clear summer sky. Was he a hard man? Were his good looks deceiving? Like a carnivorous plant, attracting insects with its pretty flowers and sweet nectar? Was he a horrible man? A rapist? A murderer?
Now, after I met him, I’ve answered none of the above, but have so many more questions.
I know nothing beyond how strong his jaw is, how soft his slicked back dirty-blond hair looks, and how contrasting the kindness of his eyes is to his overall image. That’s what trapped me, just like those carnivorous plants—his eyes.
Before the meeting, I started forming a plan, knowing full well I never had to put it in motion. Not until I met him, until I got a sense for him in real life. See if his voice stirred the same feeling in me as his looks did. Find out if his eyes were deceiving or if he really did have some kindness in him. Men who ran entire mafias, who bought black-market paintings worth millions on the dark web, who dealt in God knows what else, rarely were.
After the meeting, my decision was made. The way he spoke of my eyes cemented my plan. That and how he spit back at me about my sharp tongue, sending a shock all through my body, settling deep in my belly, and refusing to let go. I’m constantly squeezing my thighs together, failing to release whatever hold he has on me, and I would curse myself for being so damn weak. I would, but I won’t. This is exactly what I want. What I need… What I crave.
I want to fuel this obsession.
Nurture it into a new life.
Because I knew from the way he watched me, like he wanted to devour me whole, that he would be my end and my new beginning.
CHAPTER 2
ANNIKA
“Are you ready?”Hanna asks, smiling at me before she climbs into the back seat of the car.
One of our security guys holds the door open so I can follow.
“I am.”
