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Burning green eyes.
She’d flipped that switch in him.
Turned him from cold to hot, freezing to boiling, ice to fire.
The taxi driver was peering wide-eyed into the rearview mirror at them, and Indy figured that was the only reason Ice didn’t break her in two like she’d done to his shades.
“There are going to be consequences for that,” Ice snarled under his breath, his fists clenched by his sides like he was trying damn hard to keep his hands to himself right now, to not put them on her throat and squeeze, not put them on her ass and spank.
Indy cackled out a manic laugh, realizing that Ice wouldn’t hurt her with the taxi driver watching. She was immune and invincible! Unstoppable and untouchable!
For now, at least.
He’d said there would be consequences later, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.
So Indy kept at it.
Kept athim.
She kept at him with everything she had, pleading her case with all the emotion she could find in herself, moving close to him and grabbing his arm, reaching up and turning his head when he tried to look away from her.
Ice was clearly thrown off balance by Indy’s antics, and so she kept going, kept pushing. She could feel switches being flipped inside herself as she alternated between verbal battery and physical cajoling, going from pleading to protesting one moment, moving from fearful to furious another, playing every emotional angle she could find, firing every logical weapon she could discharge, imploring and impeaching, explaining and exploding, moving close to him so her breasts brushed against his arm, touching his face so he’d look at her, leaning towards him so he’d smell her, planting herself firmly in front of his damn face so he’d see her, see nothing but her, see her inside and outside.
See her for what she was.
A woman telling the truth.
A woman begging for help.
A woman asking for trust.
His trust.
5
Ice didn’t trust himself around her. He sat silent like a statue as Indy pleaded her case. He missed his sunglasses, was pissed she’d broken them and tossed the pieces out the window.
She’d moved fast to snatch them off his face. Caught him by surprise. Another sign that Ice wasn’t all the way back in the game just yet. Still rusty from being out of the field for two years.
It had to be that, Ice told himself as Indy pulled on his arm to get him to turn to her, to get him to look at her.
Ice glanced at the rearview mirror, saw the taxi driver staring. Shit, what was he thinking getting into a damn taxi with a woman who was supposed to be his captive. Sure, a tall white guy boosting a car in the middle of a crowded Mumbai street would attract attention, so that wouldn’t have been a good idea. But surely Ice could have stuck with the motorcycle a bit longer, ditched it closer to the hotel. There was no transponder or any high-tech tracking device on this old-school bike. If anyone wanted to track it, good luck finding a single motorcycle in a sea of traffic crawling through one of the world’s largest cities.
It was only when Indy pulled on his shirt to get his attention again that Ice admitted why he’d ditched that bike.
Her body pressed up against him from behind had been fucking with his head.
Her scent moving through his breath had been messing with his calm.
Just like her borderline ridiculous histrionics right now were getting under his skin, her earnest pleas adding to that first impression he’d gotten that this woman was telling the truth not lies, was clean not dirty, was his to protect not put down.
But Ice shoved the thoughts away. Right now he couldn’t trust Benson. Couldn’t trust himself. So how the hell could he allow himself to trusther?
Even though in a strange way, she might be the only one Icecouldtrust right now.
The only one sending a clear signal that she wasexactlywhat she claimed to be.
A pawn.
