How could she ever say no?
He didn’t tuck her hand in his as he would usually did nor did he put his hand on the small of her back as he led her back out the house. The distance between them had never seemed greater.
Neither spoke another word, even after climbing into his Bugatti and taking off.
Besides the low purr of the engine and the wind whipping outside the windows, they rode in silence.
A jet was waiting for them on the airstrip they rode into, the interior lights shining out of the many windows.
Though he still didn’t touch her, Kit did come around to open her door, and this time walked behind her as they boarded the plane. He paused to pass an envelope to the pilot, and to have a short conversation.
Luna took one of the seats by the window, snapping on her seat belt, refusing to watch Kit as he did the same. She was beginning to suspect they weren’t going to talk at all until the seat belt light turned off, and Kit was gesturing for her to follow him into the bedroom in the rear of the jet.
She stayed by the door, expecting him to go on to the bed, but he didn’t, merely closed the door and remained by her side.
This was always the part she hated. When he studied her without saying anything, and every twitch she made was analyzed and dissected.
“Do you want to tell me where you’re taking me?” Luna asked, needing to break the silence.
“D’you want a divorce?” he shot back, his voice just as emotionless as hers.
Her gaze jerked up from where it was resting on the strong column of his throat to meet his eyes. “Kit—”
“It’s a simple question,” he said.
“It’s never been simple.”
“D’you want a divorce? Yes or no?”
Luna folded her arms across her chest. “Are you going to spank me again if you don’t like my answer?”
Despite her question, he remained unaffected. “I’m tempted.”
“That’s not how this is going to work.”
“Then answer my question.”
Luna licked her lips, glancing away. “Not anymore. I did at one point, but not anymore.”
That answer was enough to drain some of the tension out of him, but not all. “I’d give you anything you asked for, but never that.”
She laughed without humor. “It still amazes me that you think you have any control over me.”
“It’s not about having control over you, Luna. I just would do everything in my power to make you want to stay. More than anything, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You don’t think I wanted to stay?” Luna asked. “Had it been you, would you have stayed?”
Kit fell silent, but that was as much of an answer as him using his words.
There would have been no staying or leaving for him—had someone done to him what he had done to her, they would be dead.
“Then why are we even having this conversation?”
“Because I need to know what you want.”
“Kit, you already know the answer to that.”
“Do I?”
“If I’d wanted a divorce, I would have done it by now.”
“Why did you take off your ring?”
She couldn’t help but look at him. It was the way the inflection of his words changed, as though this was what hurt him the most.
“Do you understand that not only did I find out my mother wanted to have me murdered, but you, my husband, who also promised to be truthful, lied to me?”
And back then, she had blamed him for her ending up with Lawrence Kendall—that had been the most unforgivable part about it.
“The only thing I wanted was to leave and never come back, but like I said, I forgave you for that.” It wasn’t entirely his fault, anyway.
“Then why haven’t you asked for it back?”
She knew he meant the ring, but she didn’t have an answer.
Thankfully, he didn’t press the issue when she didn’t answer, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts as well.
It was starting to feel like they were taking steps backward instead of forward.
By the time they were landing in Vegas, the only thing Luna wanted to do was take a taxi to her condo, climb into her bed, and just stay there until it was time to go back to California.
The ride into the city proper was silent and tense, but not even a third way into the journey, Kit reached over and curled his hand around her thigh.
Despite the way she felt, it was comforting.
Twinkling lights lit up the strip, and if the moon wasn’t hanging heavy in the night sky, one might have thought it was still daytime out.
Swinging into the parking lot, Kit passed his keys over, coming around to open the door for her, twining his fingers with hers as he led the way into the lobby and right up to the receptionist’s desk.
Luna opened her mouth, ready to tell the woman standing there that she already owned a place there, but it wasn’t to Luna that the woman was paying attention.
“Mr. Runehart, I apologize for any delay. Our staff wasn’t expecting your arrival until the following week.”
“You have got to be shitting me,” Luna mumbled, her gaze narrowing on Kit.
His bad mood seemed to disappear as he winked at her before focusing his attention on the woman. “Everything is fine. I just want to ensure my reservation with the chef is still intact.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
She should have known that it had been too good to be true, that Kit hadn’t stayed away because he couldn’t find her, but rather because he was giving her the illusion of space.
“I’m just going to take a stab in the dark and say you own this building, right?” Luna asked dryly, glancing in his direction as she stood beside him in the elevator.
“I do.”
“And when they suddenly started offering breakfast from the restaurant below as a part of my lease agreement, that was you, wasn’t it?”
“You always did enjoy breakfast the most.”
“You just do not understand the concept of space, do you?” Luna asked, but as much as she wanted to be annoyed with him, she couldn’t bring herself to feel it.
“You lived here alone for eighteen months. I consider that space enough.”
“Uh-huh. One last question.”
“Ask the question you want answered.”
“Do you have cameras in my condo?”
When he hesitated to answer, she slapped his arm as hard as she could, then did it a second time because it made her feel better.
“Asshole.”
“I gave you what you wanted,” he said.
“Not by spying on me.”
He leveled a look on her. “How else was I supposed to know you were safe? If I came near you—if I even so much as called you, you would change your number or move completely. At least this way I could assure myself that you were safe while making sure I didn’t drive you away. It is quite exhausting trying to find someone who doesn’t want to be found.”
But he always did.
Kit could find anyone when he put his mind to it.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he went on, “I’ve never been inside your place.”
“At least, there’s that.”
Palming her key, she jammed it into the lock and got the door open, walking through first before Kit followed.
As he looked around, she felt a touch embarrassed, wondering what he was thinking. Sure, he had technically seen her place already, but he was here, finally.
An absent smile touched his lips. “It reminds me of you.”
“Where are your cameras?” she asked, ignoring the butterflies his words inspired.
He pointed to the rather large clock on the wall. “Living room. There’s another in your bedroom.”
“Needing to make sure I wasn’t bringing anyone home?”
“I trust you implicitly.”
“Have you forgotten the other night so soon?”
Kit elected t
o ignore that.
“If those cameras have been here the entire time I was here … have you been watching me masturbate?”
She had meant to catch him off guard with that question, to make him stumble, but she should have known that he wouldn’t feel any embarrassment or shame for what he had done.
“Would you be upset if I said those nights were my favorite?”
Her cheeks blooming with heat, Luna said, “You’re unbelievable.”
“Go and get dressed,” he urged her. “We’ll need to leave soon.”
Luna blinked. “Where are we going?”
“On a date.”
Despite herself, she smiled. “You’re taking me on a date, kitten?”
“If you call me that again, I’ll introduce you to a riding crop.”
Releasing her hold on him, she stepped back. “Is that a promise?”
“Don’t tempt me, Luna.”
“Fine, I’m going, but we’re revisiting this.”
It took Luna less than an hour to wash the flight away and dress in a skintight black dress with her back exposed. She had left her hair to fall around her shoulders in its usual messiness and had applied her makeup in record time.
By the time she was stepping out of her bedroom wearing satin heels with a red bow on the back of them, Kit was waiting for her with a drink in hand.
Upon seeing her, he tossed back the dark liquid, coming over to her with all the grace of a predator. Whatever doubts he’d been having on their flight over seemed to have disappeared.
One arm sliding around her waist, and the other sifting beneath the fall of her hair to cup the nape of her neck, Kit dragged her into his embrace, stealing her breath away as his lips fell on hers.
For one breathless moment, she was suspended in time, lost in a moment of their own creation.
He could hurt her with his hands.
He could hurt her with his words sometimes.
But his lips never lied—he kissed her like he loved her. Every time.
There was nothing slow or languid about the way he easily pried her lips apart, his tongue tracing over the seam of them before delving inside.
He just took what he wanted.
Her fingers bunching in the front of his suit jacket, she held him to her. Her hands ached with how tightly she held—she never wanted to let him go.
Finally, when Kit drew away long enough to draw in a breath, his hand came around to trace his thumb down her cheek. “You make me forget myself.”
“Well, I don’t want you to remember now.”
“I promised you a date.”
“But we could have all the fun in the world right here. We can forget everything,” she said.
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later.” Despite his words, he wasn’t making any move to stop her.
“You’re no fun.”
“We’ll see if you’re saying that later.”
Luna grumbled out a reply, one that she was sure he couldn’t hear, but she didn’t have much of a choice but to follow him.
Despite having lived in the building for as long as she had, Luna had never actually gone inside the restaurant to have dinner. Usually, she ordered room service, or ordered out, but she had never really liked eating by herself unless she was in the comfort of her own home.
Like his restaurant in New York, it was decorated in shades of black and white, and there was also the chef’s table in the kitchen, warded off by frosted glass. A bottle of unopened wine was already waiting for them.
Kit opened it with ridiculous ease, pouring her a nice amount before filling his own glass. “White, since I know how much you hate red.”
Not only had he known about the date, but he had obviously gotten more information about it than where they had gone. “You have a serious problem.”
But he was right though—she hated red wine.
“How long have you been stalking me?” Luna asked, glancing around the restaurant.
Usually, this place was filled to capacity whenever she passed it, but tonight, very few were dining in.
Was that Kit’s doing?
“More often than I wasn’t.”
“Wanting space seems to be a foreign concept to you.”
But why was she charmed by the idea? She was supposed to be angry about it.
“When it comes to you, yes. You should thank Aidra for stopping Fang and Tăcut from bringing you back.”
Narrowing her eyes on him, that charm quickly dissipated. “You would’ve gotten Fang and Tăcut stabbed.”
“I did warn them of that, yes, but Tăcut would have made it out unscathed. He did teach you everything he knows.”
Big, silent bastard. “So what? I would have been your prisoner until I forgave you?”
“‘Prisoner,’ is such an ugly term.”
“That’s what you would have done? You can’t kidnap me just because I didn’t want to be with you, Kit! That’s not okay.”
“Then you shouldn’t be upset about the surveillance because you consider the alternative worse.”
“You’re impossible.”
A waiter in all black came over to deliver their food though they had yet to order.
“Chef’s choice,” Kit explained, nodding over to the man in the white coat who watched over the kitchen like a hawk.
If asked later, Luna wouldn’t remember what she ate, only that it paled in comparison to Kit. They talked like it was old times again—like they were back in the château.
He fed her with an easy smile, telling her about all the work he had done while she was gone. Since his assignment with Carmen had taken up much of his time, there weren’t many new clients, but what few there were, he spoke about freely.
And before long, she had lost track of time and the number of times Kit had filled her glass.
Glancing down at the glass in her hand, Luna found she wasn’t nearly as drunk as she should have been after three glasses—maybe four—of wine, but she did feel relaxed.
It was … nice.
Everything was nice about what Kit had done for her here. The lit candles, the flowers, the food … It was like, for a short time, they were suspended in time, back to a place when everything had been easy between them.
He wanted to remind her how good it was between them—how despite the things they did, they could still have their normal moments.
Just a woman in love with a man, and a man in love with a woman.
Smiling, Luna traced her finger over the rim of her glass. “Are you trying to seduce me, Kit?”
His gaze started a lazy trail down the front of her dress, the table blocking the rest of his descent, but she could practically feel his gaze all over her.
There was no hint of playfulness as he asked a question of his own. “Is it working?”
A sudden chill slid down the length of her spine, her throat working reflexively as she tried not to react to his words, but there was no use, not when she wasn’t sober enough to care.
“Is it?” Kit asked a moment before she felt his hand brush against her thigh. “Is it working?”
Yes.
God, yes.
But she didn’t voice that.
He knew the effect he had on her. He knew what he could do with just words.
Luna held onto her answer, even as his hand slipped between her legs, stroking the sensitive flesh there until she parted her thighs without ever having to be told.
There had never been a need for him to voice what he wanted from her—she just knew.
“You should say yes,” he murmured, studying her. “We only have a few hours left.”
“Then let’s not waste any time.”
Back in her condo, Luna watched as Kit removed his shirt, the muscles in his back flexing as he did so. Her gaze roamed over the wings there, just as thrilling as the first time she’d seen them. The ink hadn’t faded much with time, the dark feathers just as vibrant.
Next went his shoes, and as he stood in front of her, she was
reminded how lucky she was.
“Are you going to cut this one off me too?” she asked when she had his attention again, touching the neckline of her dress.
“As long as you get it off by the time I get across this room.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” She pointed at the couch. “Sit.”
Brow arched, he did as he was told.
Reaching back, she pulled at the zipper until the dress gave and she could slip it off.
She stepped out of it, feeling emboldened by the way his pupils flared, and when he reached for her once she was close enough, she swatted his hands away before straddling his lap.
“You haven’t asked permission to touch me, kitten.”
“Luna, you’re asking for it.”
“Not yet,” she said, fumbling with his belt until she could get it undone.
He lifted to help her get his trousers down, and as she got them off him, she slowly sunk to her knees in front of him.
His erection stretched his boxer briefs, begging to be released. She wanted him—she wanted him so fucking much—but she didn’t want to rush this like the other night.
Kit had been angry with her, enraged even, but this was different. The emotions behind it weren’t dark and volatile.
Taking his cock in her hand, she very slowly moved her fist, hearing the breath that left him as she tightened her hold.
And when she finally took him in her mouth, he groaned, his thighs flexing with the need to stay still, but that sound made heat pool in her belly, and she desperately wanted to hear him make it again.
He mumbled words in Welsh, the meaning lost to her as she took in as much as she could, using her tongue to add to the sensations.
With this, even if only for a moment, she had power over him—she was the one in control—and it was a thrilling thought.
But that wasn’t how Kit operated—he could never let her have that control for long before he was fisting the length of her hair, guiding her on how to take him the way he liked.
Slow on the upslide, her tongue bathing his cock in saliva, and fast on the downslide as she almost made it to the base of his cock.
And when she didn’t gag around him, he groaned again, but followed it with a heated, “Good girl.”
God, what those words did to her.
She wanted to please him, to give him everything he wanted and more.
Calavera. (Den of Mercenaries #4) Page 14