by Eden Summers
He’s gorgeous. Purely divine. So incredibly tempting it pains me to keep my distance.
I wish I understood the effect he has on me.
I should be daunted by the ease with which he displays himself. He doesn’t care that he’s naked beneath that towel. The bigger problem is—I don’t either.
It feels natural to be here like this. But it’s not. I just don’t get why panic isn’t setting in.
“Here.” I pad forward, placing the plate and cutlery on the end of the bed before backing away. “Eat.”
“I’ve lived a long time without a mother, Nis. You don’t need to baby me.”
“Even someone as ruthless as you needs to be taken care of every once in a while.”
He quirks a brow. “And you’re the person for the job?”
“I’m the only one here.”
He inclines his head. “Be careful, Nis. You might start to expose feelings for me other than lust.”
I don’t let the strike penetrate. It hits hard though, the efficient barb making me wince.
“Just eat,” I beg. “Neither one of us has the patience to argue.”
He surprises me by doing exactly as I ask, stepping forward the few feet to grab some fries. Everything about him is smooth. His chest. His composure. The way he continues to lazily eat, his gaze raking me the entire time.
“What happened between you and Benji?” I rest my shoulder against the doorjamb. “What’s with the hostility?”
“It’s family business. You don’t need to concern yourself with the details.”
“It must be something big for you to be angry at him during what has to be the most excruciating time of his life.”
He grabs a piece of cucumber and throws it into his mouth, chewing with casual arrogance.
The shower must have pepped him up. He’s got energy back in those eyes. Lethal efficiency.
“Is it that you don’t trust me with the information?” I ask. “You don’t want me to know?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“But I’d like to.”
He gives a snake of a grin. “There’s many things I’d like from you, too. Will I get those in return?”
Heat skitters along my skin, the flashover wild and intense. I picture what he wants as payment. I feel it. Lucky for me I have just enough strength to look away from his demanding gaze in the hopes of severing his train of thought.
He sighs in response. “Benji is a snitch. He’s been ratting on me to my father for God knows how long at my sister’s request.”
“Layla betrayed you?” The question leaves my lips in a rapid evacuation of breath. “Why?”
“Money. Security. Intimidation. Who the fuck cares? There’s no excusable reason to make their actions acceptable.”
Holy Jesus.
This isn’t good. Not for Cole’s reputation or his stronghold in Portland.
“Don’t look so worried, little fox. I’ll sort it out.”
“How?” I push from the doorframe. “How can you sort something like that?”
“You don’t want to know.” He holds my gaze, the slightest conniving smile tilting his lips. He’s alluding to violence. To torture. Possibly death. But the thirst for bloodshed doesn’t reach his eyes. All I see is hardship in the ocean-blue depths.
He wouldn’t kill Benji, would he?
“What about my phone?” The question rushes from my lips in an attempt to change the subject. “You deliberately turned off my data before sending that video to Easton. Why?”
He resumes ruffling his hair, scattering water droplets over his bare shoulders. “Because I knew I would get the desired effect without having to risk your reputation.”
There’s another twist to my heart. A cautionary tweak. “And what was the desired effect?”
“Does it really matter?” He starts toward me, his relaxed stride seeming predatory. “You already judged me for my actions.”
“Why, Cole?”
He stops before me, the scent of soap filtering into my lungs as he reaches out to run gentle fingers along my jaw.
My nerves tingle in response. My throat dries.
I should run. I should scream. I should do anything other than stand here basking in his touch, but I don’t.
“Your initial response wasn’t to blame me for manipulating you. Or to rail on me for playing games. You didn’t even claim some pathetic mental excuse for your enjoyment of that kiss. Instead, you got angry because I exposed the truth.”
I close my eyes, hating his accuracy.
“You threw your phone at me because you could no longer hide behind lies.” His fingers grip my chin, lifting my face upward. “But I’m not entirely heartless, Nis. Not when it comes to you. If you want to keep your job I would never take it away.”
I squeeze my eyes tighter, wishing the darkness could shut out my growing need. “Not heartless, yet you still threatened my shrink.”
“I was concerned for your well-being. I won’t apologize for that.” The pad of his thumb brushes my lower lip, back and forth, stimulating every nerve in my body. “But I admit taking you to Greece wasn’t one of my finest moments. I did things I regret. And I needed to make sure my actions didn’t have a lasting effect on you.”
They did.
They always will.
I open my eyes and immediately regret the decision when I’m ensnared by the intensity peering back at me. His fierce scrutiny. His inviting mouth.
“You suffer because of me.” He continues to rub his thumb over my lip. “I don’t like it.”
“Be careful, Cole. If you keep talking like this you might expose a soft side.” I throw his own taunt back at him. We’re all about games and ridicule. Even now. It’s all I’ve got to shield myself.
“I’m more concerned with how hard you make me.” His mouth kicks in a faint smile.
Goddamnit.
My pussy clenches at the thought of his arousal. My nipples bead.
I’m a vibrating mess of building adrenaline and humming endorphins as his fingers tease along my jaw to my cheek, gently guiding stray strands of hair behind my ear.
“I asked you to be my queen once. I wanted you to stand by my side. That hasn’t changed.”
I shake my head. “I’m a Fed. You’re a murderer.”
“Yes, I’m a murderer. But so are you. You killed my father and didn’t report it. You remained silent while Luca and I disposed of bodies. You’re a criminal, too, Nis.”
“Don’t.” I pull back. “Please don’t throw my mistakes in my face. I know exactly what I’ve done.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. You rid the world of a man underserving of life. You saved tortured women. You ensured no more would be targeted by him. How can you still not see that?”
“Because I didn’t do it the right way.”
“The right way?” His jaw ticks, nostrils flare. “What was wrong about it?”
I don’t answer. There’s no point. He’ll only twist my words and use them against me.
He’ll break me down with his infallible logic.
“Please don’t,” I beg.
He holds me captive beneath those hard eyes for long moments, my pulse pounding in my throat. “Have it your way then.”
He turns and makes for the bathroom, momentarily disappearing inside before returning without the towel as he thrusts his arms into the robe.
I get an eyeful of his perfect body. Head to toe. Nothing left unseen. Especially not the hardened length of his cock.
The display is deliberate. A calculated reminder of how easily he can make me burn.
“It’s my dad.” I finally answer his question, needing the necessary distraction. “You told me in Greece that he turned bad because of me.”
He frowns, cinching the robe’s belt around his waist. “That’s not what I said.”
“You told me he sought out your father to help protect me and my mother. You said he had no choice but to hire a hitman. And he lost everything because of
it.” I clasp my hands in front of me, tangling my fingers tight. “He made shady decisions to keep me safe. He threw away all he had. All so I could have this life. This career.”
“So you plan to live the life he couldn’t? You’re giving up on your own freedom for him?”
Hearing my feelings spoken so simply makes them seem naive. Wrong.
“Doing the right thing isn’t giving up on my freedom. I made the choice to distance myself from you because I cherish his sacrifice.”
“My family helped yours. Yet you make it sound like we did the opposite.” He huffs out a laugh. “You treat me as if I’m the scum of the Earth, but when the rest of the world failed your father, he turned to us. And we saved him. We saved you. And still you punish me for it.”
I wince.
“The thing is, you don’t know the half of it,” he growls. “You’ve only heard the start of your father’s story. He’s not—”
“No. Please.” I hold up a hand for him to stop. “Don’t manipulate the memories I have of him. They’re all I’ve got left.”
He drags his gaze away, returning his attention to the food on the bed, claiming another piece of cucumber. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
His cell vibrates on the bedside table beside his gun. He moves to snatch up the device, his expression remaining unchanged as he reads the screen.
“What is it?” I start toward him, stopping at his side to read the message from Luca.
We’ve arrived. Hunt filled me in on what’s happening. We’re booking another room. Call if you need anything.
“He made good time.” I step back, removing myself from Cole’s personal space.
“I’m surprised they made it at all.” He begins typing a reply. “After what they’ve both been through in the last twenty-four hours, I’ve been waiting to hear news of a car accident.”
He’s been worried.
Why am I surprised?
He continues to tap, tap, tap on the screen, then returns the cell to the bedside table and runs his hands through his hair in a slow glide of tired frustration.
“You’ve handled this situation well.” My comfort is barely audible. It’s as if saying it too loud will mean I’ve finally switched sides, when I’ve already done far worse.
“Have I?” Sad eyes meet mine. Sad, defeated eyes.
My walls fall. Crumbling. Brick by brick, they succumb to his vulnerability.
What makes it worse is that I’m sure he’s never shown this side of himself to anyone else before. Just me.
I’m the only one he’s let in.
“You’ve done everything you can. There’s nothing left to do but wait.”
A knock sounds from the front of the suite, the interruption filling me with trepidation.
“Don’t worry.” Cole grabs his gun from the bedside table and some cash from his wallet. “It should be the dry-cleaning.”
I follow him to the living room and watch, on alert, as he opens the door, reclaims his clothes, and tips the hotel staff.
It’s then that I realize there are no more scheduled interruptions coming to save me.
He needs rest and I’m going to remain awake, stewing on all the bad decisions I’ve made.
Cole and I always seem to move in circles. Around and around. Never getting anywhere. Never learning from our mistakes.
It’s such a demeaning routine, but the worst part is how right it feels.
The closeness. The exposed vulnerabilities. Even the passion… It seems like I’ve been pulled toward this by fate.
He pads back into the living room, the crinkle of plastic the only sound as he continues into the bedroom and out of sight.
“Can you come in here for a minute?” he asks moments later.
I’m loath to walk back in there.
Well, my mind is. My heart and nerve endings are the opposite as I enter the doorway.
“I’m going to sleep.” He grabs the plate of food from the mattress and places it on the armchair in the corner. “Which side of the bed do you prefer?”
I huff out a half-hearted chuckle. “Nice try.”
“The left side it is.” He makes his way to the right and pulls back the covers. “It’s time you got some rest, too.”
He’s right. I’m dead tired. But Goldilocks is not suited for this bed.
“I’ll sleep in the spare room.”
“No, you won’t.” There’s no authority in his tone. No demand. Just pure, one hundred percent expectation.
“Good night, Cole.” I back away, my heart thudding when he turns to me with narrowed eyes.
“I currently don’t have the energy to chase you and haul you over my shoulder, but I assure you, I’ll find it.”
A chill skitters down my spine—a short, sharp thrill that leaves a hollow aftertaste. “You’re only doing this for a distraction.” I shake my head, correcting myself. “No, you consider me a challenge, don’t you? That’s why this time between us is never-ending. It’s a cat and mouse game neither of us can win.”
“You’re no challenge, Nis. I had you in Greece. You threw yourself on me earlier in the hall. And you came on my fingers at the dining table. What part of that do you think was challenging for me?”
Shame heats my cheeks. Building disgust.
His face softens and it seems as though pity now stares back at me. “You stopped being a challenge and a game a long time ago.”
The humiliation multiplies. Suffocates.
“What we have is far more complex than that.” He drops the corner of the bedcovers and faces me. “You’ve become everything to me.”
I haven’t believed it before—his words of devotion, his continued commitment. Yet now it sinks in, warming the edges of my frigid insecurities. I’m a slave to his admission. A captive.
“We’re made for each other. But you already know that.” He discards the robe and slides onto the mattress, gloriously naked. “Now get in bed. I won’t sleep unless I know you’re safe at my side.”
18
Cole
I expect her to continue protesting.
I’m more intrigued than relieved when she doesn’t, instead turning on her heel after announcing she’s going to get a change of clothes.
She returns moments later to enter the bathroom and close the door with a definitive click of the lock. She showers, the water’s spray tempting me to break the barrier between us, but I force myself to remain in bed.
I don’t even protest when she reenters the room covered neck to foot in soft-pink winter pajamas.
“Don’t say a word.” She turns off the light and rounds the bed to climb in the opposite side. “I’m doing this for safety’s sake.”
Sure she is.
If this is an attempt to throw me off my game by surrendering without a fight, it won’t work. I’ll take being near her any way I can.
She lays down as far away from me as humanly possible, then turns her back. The snub is an annoyance I don’t have the energy to rally against.
I’m fucking dead inside. I need her warmth. But I’m done pushing. At least for now. Instead, I stare at the ceiling and watch the city lights peeking through the curtains as I brainstorm strategies for tomorrow.
I need to find leverage. Blackmail. I have to figure out a way to extort Emmanuel into giving those kids back without placing them in harm’s way. Maybe his own children are the answer. But once I have Stella and Tobias safe in my care, I’ll burn Costa’s world to the ground.
I’ll plant evidence. Pay law enforcement. Bribe city officials.
I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes to rattle his cage. Then I’ll level up to violence.
Revenge will be slow. Sweet.
It isn’t long before I reach for my phone to message Hunt with tactical ideas. I tap out my anger against the glowing screen and hit send.
“What are you doing?” Nissa rolls toward me.
“Getting organized for the morning.” I place the cell back on the bedside table and return to the
previously broadcasted blank ceiling show.
“Why don’t you reconsider letting me make a call or two? I could—”
“Don’t waste your breath,” I warn. “I’m not going to change my mind.”
She sighs. “Then I really don’t understand why I’m here. My hands are tied. I’m not helping.”
“You’re helping just fine.”
“How?” She pushes onto her elbow, peering down at me. “What have I contributed apart from a few comments on the photos you received?”
I’ve asked myself the same question on repeat, and the answer has always remained the same. “You’re here for me. For no other reason than to keep me grounded. I won’t fail in front of you. You keep me in check.”
She doesn’t reply. She doesn’t even move.
“Does that annoy you?” I direct the question toward the ceiling. “Do you hate knowing you’re here for my benefit and nothing else?”
“It’s more complicated than hatred,” she whispers. “It always is with you. I just wish I would’ve realized sooner so I didn’t mistakenly think I could’ve actually helped those kids.”
“You’re helping. Just not in the ways you planned.”
She gives a breathy scoff. “Sorry, how silly of me to forget it’s always your way or the highway.”
“That’s not the case.”
“Yet here I am, in your bed, after you demanded I sleep here.”
I clench my teeth, hating the way she cheapens her submission. “I didn’t hear one fucking protest.”
“Why bother when you always get what you want?”
“If I always got what I wanted, I would’ve fucked you four times by now. Once in my room this morning. Then when you plastered yourself against me in the bathroom. And again when you ground yourself into my fingers until you fucking orgasmed.”
She sits up, her breathing increasing.
If I always got what I wanted, she never would’ve walked away from me after returning to Portland. Nothing would’ve stood between us. Not her morals. Not my family. And certainly not her fucking career.
“That was three, not four.” She glowers down at me.
I release an anger-filled laugh. “Don’t play coy, Nis. You know the fourth is right now. I’d fuck you within an inch of your life if I thought you’d consent.”