She knew the question would come up eventually, and while a part of her didn’t want to answer, the other part of her was glad he was actually asking rather than making assumptions again.
It was stupid of her to even care what he thought of what she had done when they didn’t know each other, yet that had always been one of her flaws—she cared what others thought of her.
“D’you have wine?” she asked, figuring a little liquid encouragement would help.
He pointed at a cabinet across the kitchen, reaching across to one of the drawers on the island to pull out a corkscrew.
She found a decent vintage—now completely convinced that a woman had to have been here considering the steady supply of beer in the refrigerator—and cracked it open, pouring a healthy glass.
Swallowing down two mouthfuls, she blew out a breath. “It was after I graduated from Cambridge. I got an email about a job offer working for a prestigious firm. They said they’d been following my progress.”
“A brilliant mind,” they’d said, words that had immediately made her feel pride and validation.
The ink had hardly dried on her diploma and all of her hard work was immediately being recognized. She hadn’t thought anything of it, and as her mother always liked to say, you never look a gift horse in the mouth.
“The money I would make was absolutely amazing and the idea of walking away from that … I know what you’re thinking,” she said before he could open his mouth. “Money can’t buy happiness, but when you’ve never had it, it certainly feels like it.”
Financial stability was happiness, amongst other things.
“It was easy at first—keeping the books, I mean. I didn’t think anything of it, and if I’m being honest, I probably still wouldn’t be bothered by it had my father …” she gulped those words back.
This time, when he looked at her, there was no trace of mocking in his expression—he looked almost sympathetic.
“I’d do anything for them, despite what you might think of me.”
“We all do things we never expect when it comes to the people we love,” he said softly. “It’s never black and white.”
She nodded, but didn’t respond aloud, not knowing what to say next. At least now, he knew why. Her decision might not have been the best option, but at least her motives had come from a good place.
Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting at the table, plates in front of them, the warm smell of honey and garlic wafting from the plate in front of her. She didn’t realize how much she was starving until now.
“Why do they call you Skorpion?” she asked, looking from her plate to him. “I imagine there’s a story behind it.”
“Have you ever heard the story of the scorpion and the frog?” he asked, gesturing for her to continue eating when she’d paused to look at him.
“The fable where the scorpion stings the frog and they both die in the lake?” she asked. “That doesn’t sound like a very good way to earn a moniker, I don’t think.”
“Except, I’m not the one dying in the end.”
She swallowed. “When you put it like that …”
“But you won’t need to worry about that, you’re safe with me.”
Ada didn’t doubt that at all.
His phone’s sudden ringing disrupted their quiet conversation, a stark reminder that this wasn’t a dinner between two people getting to know each other.
He was a mercenary working for the man extorting her. How quickly she’d forgotten that.
His gaze barely swept over the screen before his face cleared of any emotion and he turned away from her. “I need to take this.”
“Of course.”
He didn’t say anything more before leaving the table and disappearing into his bedroom before closing the door soundly.
Ada sat at the table a little while longer before finally standing and clearing it off, rinsing the dishes in the sink. She thought of lingering, wondering if he’d want to continue their talk, but ultimately thought better of it and went back downstairs.
They weren’t friends, and whether it was in a few days or a few weeks, he would be walking out of her life as quickly as he’d walked into it.
7
It was amazing the difference one night could make.
While three days had passed in tense silence when they’d first arrived, their dinner the other night had helped ease the discord.
Ada had been sure she wouldn’t be able to last another day with Skorpion, figuring she would rather take her chances with the jungle than to spend a single second more in the same house with him, but now, as another week at the jungle house—as she’d affectionately dubbed it—approached, things had finally settled.
She was still bored out of her mind and spent most of her time in the pool, even having managed to develop something of a tan, though the swimming was quickly beginning to lose its appeal since she did it every morning, afternoon, and night. But if she kept this up, there was a chance she’d lose a couple stone once her time here ended.
Today, however, she’d refused to get into the water, having woken up more tired than usual.
Instead, she was crouched next to the bookcase in the living room, finally perusing what he had to offer.
There were a few she wasn’t surprised to find—manuals on repairing vintage motorcycles, another on the proper art of building surfboards—but there was also a hardback first edition of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea in its original French, along with a couple of other classics that made her brows shoot up.
She already thought that perhaps she’d been wrong about him seeing as he could be kind when he wanted to, and he wasn’t nearly as much of a brute as she’d originally thought, but as she scanned the titles he had to offer, she was most surprised by the books on the bottom shelf.
Where the Wild Things Are.
Charlotte’s Web.
The Very Hungry Caterpillar.
All of which she had read as a girl, and all of which were children’s books.
He couldn’t possibly have children, could he?
She hadn’t seen any trace of one if he did in the week they’d been here. No pictures or stuffed animals, nor had he mentioned one during their brief, but now frequent conversations.
Then again, that was deeply personal, and it wouldn’t make sense for him to share something like that with a near stranger.
She was just a job.
The sound of a door opening and shutting sounded on the other side of the room, giving her enough time to get to her feet and swipe her hands across the front of her dress to do what she could to look innocent.
Not that she had anything to feel guilty about—she’d only been taking him up on an offer he’d presented. But the books still bounced around the back of her mind as she turned to find Skorpion walking toward her.
“Find something?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she answered vaguely. “Were you looking for me?”
He sent her a look she couldn’t decipher before holding up a laptop she’d only just noticed him carrying. “It’s time to prove your worth.”
His words weren’t particularly unkind, but there was something behind them that made her think this was important. Maybe the Kingmaker wanted to test her to see how much of what she’d said was true. She didn’t mind—all the information was in her head after all—but she was thinking more about the laptop she was close to having her hands on.
“What does he want, exactly?”
He gestured for her to come to him before leading her over to the dining room table where he pulled out a chair for her to sit. Once the laptop was set up in front of her, he stood behind her.
“I’m surprised you trust me to use this,” she said without looking at him.
“I can only warn you of the risks, I can’t stop you from making them.”
Not a threat, just a fact.
When she thought of her family, she wouldn’t call, no matter how much she wanted to.
For the next hour, she input ac
count numbers in one column, names in another, and dollar amounts in a final one. Despite remembering a large amount of the data, she didn’t realize just how long it would take her to inscribe all of it down.
Once she finished one full chart, she glanced over her shoulder at Skorpion. “I’m finished.”
He leaned forward, reading what she’d written. “Is this all you have?”
“It’s all I’m willing to give right now.”
He quirked a brow but there was a shadow of a smile on his face. “I haven’t gotten any update on my family, nor has the Kingmaker asked me for my account numbers to deposit my money. Once I have what I need, he can get more from me. Consider this my deposit.”
He tried to hide it, but he looked impressed by her answer. “Will do.”
She nodded once and headed back downstairs, but not before grabbing one of the books from the shelf.
Was it possible to grow so tired of the same thing, counting leaves outside her bedroom window actually sounded appealing at first?
Despite how much she’d enjoyed the pool when she first arrived, Ada was back to feeling like the hours of the day were creeping by one by one. Minute by minute.
Better than actually dying, she reminded herself, the thought quickly sobering her, but even as it did, she wondered whether it was possible to die from boredom.
Things were better with Skorpion … if that was even the right way to describe it. Since they didn’t spend any time together, it made sense that it wasn’t so tense in the jungle house. It was easier.
He kept his distance, staying in his workshop or bedroom away from her and when she was sure he wasn’t around to see her, she ventured up to the pool, lounging next to it or swimming laps in the crystal blue waters.
In the two weeks she’d been here, things had finally settled.
She hadn’t minded at first, especially during those first few days where she’d been sure she would try to murder him in his sleep, but now that she had been alone without any human interaction really, even he was starting to look appealing.
Lost in her thoughts, she barely registered the sudden knock at the door before it swung open and Skorpion stepped in.
His expression had been unreadable when he first came in, but as his gaze traveled down her front with blatant slowness, it morphed into appreciation.
She wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or something else that had her blushing. “Don’t you knock?”
“I did,” he said easily, not even pretending like he wasn’t checking her out, at least until she snatched a pillow from the top of the bed and covered herself. “You didn’t hear?”
“You can’t just walk in two seconds after you knock—that completely negates the bloody knocking!”
Her annoyed tone did nothing to deter him. Instead, he continued further into the room until he was right in front of her.
“You’re cute when you’re riled, babe.”
She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, but despite the outrage she felt, a part of her still felt a small thrill at his words.
“Was there something you wanted, or did you come down here to ogle me?” she asked, glad her voice remained level.
“Both, looks like.”
“Another request from the Kingmaker?”
“I’m heading out, thought you might want to come with me.”
That was enough to get her standing. “Really?”
“Unless you want to stay here.”
“No,” she said a little too quickly. “I’d love to go, but …”
“But?”
“You said someone would be looking for me.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, where we’re going, any hao’le that gets close, I’ll know about.”
“Hao’le?”
“Mainlander.”
Why did she have a feeling the definition was a little ruder than that? “I’ll be right up then.”
He nodded once before he turned back for the door, but before he walked through, he smiled at her and said, “I like the green.”
Of course, she stupidly glanced down at herself, like she hadn’t remembered what lingerie she was wearing, and had he not left the room soon after, he would have definitely seen how flustered those words made her.
Maybe he was as deprived of human interaction as she was and would probably find any woman attractive rather than him being attracted to her.
She wasn’t under any false delusion that she wasn’t attractive herself—even she could admit to herself that she was pretty, even if there were little things she would love to change about herself—but this was Skorpion.
And Skorpion wasn’t like other men—fit, formidable, and sexy Skorpion.
Definitely deprived if she was thinking anything about him was remotely attractive.
Pushing the thought from her mind, she went hunting for her suitcase, glancing inside at the clothes tucked away.
Laughable really, the amount of time and money she’d spent on not just the clothes she had packed away, but every part of her life.
Nothing in her suitcase cost less than a couple-hundred dollars, and had she not been here, she would have had monthly hair appointments to get to, plus her nails she routinely got done every three weeks.
That didn’t include the rest of her maintenance.
It felt silly now, what had taken such priority in her life when now she couldn’t care less.
She found a dress to slip on, one with high slits, and a pair of sandals that wouldn’t wreck her feet when she walked.
Twisting her hair up into a bun, she did’t bother with makeup and headed upstairs where Skorpion was waiting for her.
He glanced down at his watch. “Ten minutes? I’m impressed.”
Even he wasn’t going to ruin this for her. “Considering I’m actually going somewhere rather than sitting in here, I’m electing to ignore you.”
“Fair enough.”
She followed him out the door and down the hill to where his truck was parked. Just as he’d done at the airport, he opened the door for her, waiting until she climbed in before shutting it behind her.
Once he was seated beside her and reversing down the driveway until they were on the main road, he draped his arm across the back of her seat.
She did her best to ignore how close he was.
Despite not knowing where they were going, she didn’t care. Instead, she drank everything in, but unlike the silence they’d rode in before, Skorpion began pointing things out.
Like the farm they were passing on their way to the nearby town—one, he said, that he’d visited when he was a boy and went back to whenever he got the chance.
“They grow the best pineapples,” he said when she asked why. “My da—”
He’d caught himself before he could finish whatever he thought to say, prompting her to look at him. “Sorry?”
“Farmer’s market is just up the road,” he’d said after, changing the subject.
She thought about pressing him on what he hadn’t said, but figured it was better to wait for him to bring it up since they’d only just gotten onto common ground.
Besides, she rather liked this version of Skorpion—the one with the easy smile and the casual attitude.
Once they reached the marker, he parked next to a line of cars before climbing out. She made sure her hair was still twisted into the knot at the base of her neck and her hat shielded most of her face before she joined him.
His hand rested on the small of her back as he guided her forward toward the sea of locals perusing the stands. The stalls were brimming with fruits and other fresh produce, along with handmade jewelry.
Skorpion easily made his way around, picking up various fruits including three whole pineapples. It was obvious he was a regular here from the way everyone smiled and invited him over, offering him wares without his prompting.
By the time he’d finished and they were heading back to the truck, Ada
was reluctant to leave, wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as she could.
On the way back, she anticipated the sight of the cut off up the hill, dreaded it as much as she anticipated it. One day, she told herself, this would all just be a bad memory.
But instead of turning onto the dirt road, he kept forward. She looked from the road to him, wondering if he realized what he’d done, but before she asked where they were going, she swallowed the question back down.
If his mistake was unintentional and he’d forgotten she was here, she didn’t want to remind him and ultimately make him turn back around to take her back to the jungle house.
She didn’t know his intentions until he signaled and pulled over onto the side of the road. Considering the trouble he’d gone through to take her to the market and let her walk around as semi-regularly as he was able, she doubted he’d brought her out here to hurt her in any way, but as she followed his lead and hopped out of the jeep, she still wasn’t sure where they were or why.
He extended a hand as he rounded the front of the jeep, and though she couldn’t possibly know what awaited her, she took his hand and followed him toward a well worn path that cut through a patch of overgrown grass.
As they reached the other side, she realized what that grass had been concealing—or rather, what she had been too distracted to notice.
Black sand stretched as far as the eye could see, but even better was the turquoise waters rushing toward the shore and disappearing again. California had a wide assortment of beautiful beaches, but it had been ages since she’d ventured out to one, even longer since she actually took her shoes off and actually got into the water.
She didn’t wait for his permission as she stepped out of her thongs, sighing at the feel of the cool sand beneath her feet before she rushed toward the shore, almost anticipating the moment when the ocean water swept toward her, crashing into her ankles as she waded further until she was nearly knee-deep.
Out here, she could pretend everything was as beautiful and perfect as the ocean—that she wasn’t being held captive and her family’s lives didn’t hang in the balance. Here, she could pretend she was just a girl seeing the ocean for the first time and enjoy it.
She didn’t care that her dress was getting wet, or that she must have looked completely mad splashing in the water like a child—it was worth it for the few minutes of peace it brought.
Skorpion. (Den of Mercenaries Book 5) Page 9