"No, not if talking means you tying me to the goddamn bed."
"If I don't tie you to the bed, that means I'll be sleeping with you." He licked his bottom lip. “And judging from how much you liked me kissing you, I don’t think either of us will sleep.”
My eyes bulged. "No."
I went over to the drawer and found a few of the things I'd brought with me for the weekend, as well as other things that were in my fucking size. What the fuck?
I grabbed a pair of joggers and a T-shirt, and as I did that, I dropped my weapons from my sleeves into my hands.
Looking back on this moment, I could be proud of a couple of things. One, I surprised him. Two, I actually got a hit in on him. But what happened after, well, not my brightest moment.
I threw the clothes at him and then immediately went for an attempted swipe across his neck. All I managed was to nick his chin a little, and then I hit him with my left hand, but I didn't fully rotate my hips. So all that did was puncture his thigh muscle. He bellowed and howled. Instead of hitting me back, he tucked his body and launched himself at my midriff, grabbing me. I tried to stab him again, but I'd already lost the weapon. He launched us both onto the bed, tucking my arms beneath me and using his whole body on top of mine to immobilize me.
And then, thanks to my earlier efforts to dismantle the bed, the whole thing fucking collapsed.
He cursed as I fell with him, the surprise of it catching him off guard. I quickly scrambled to my feet and ran for the door.
I made it out, even though his fingers grazed my ankle. The moment I was out in the hall, I screamed, "Reginald! Reginald!"
And the next thing I knew, a door down at the end of the hallway opened, and the old man stuck his head out. His eyes were wide in alarmed surprise, but I wasn’t focused on him. Instead, my gaze was on the staircase leading down.
I was close. So close.
Reginald came out and held his hands up. "Girl, are you all right?"
But before I knew it, Drake had me. His thundering footsteps that I had expected to hear didn't happen. He was as silent as an assassin, which is what he likely was. He scooped me up from behind as I kicked and screamed and clawed. "Little minx took the nuts out of the goddamn bed. It made the whole thing collapse."
And then Reginald did the most interesting thing. He grinned. "I told you so."
"Aren’t you going to help me? You said you would help me," I screamed.
"I said if he was trying to hurt you I would help. He's not trying to hurt you. Look at how he's holding you. He's trying to keep you from hurting yourself."
Then I realized Drake wasn't hitting me, he wasn't slamming me into any walls, despite my wild attempts to kick and flay.
Christ. It didn't stop me from fighting to get away though.
I smashed my head back, catching him in the jaw again.
"Fuck me."
"Over my goddamn dead body. You into necrophilia, arsehole?"
"What? Fuck. Stop fighting."
And then he tossed me in the air just a little bit, bringing me back around, causing my legs to collapse from under me. We were on the ground, and he was on top, his full body weight on me, hands on my arms as he growled in my face. "You will hurt yourself if you keep doing this."
I stopped struggling.
"Good girl." his voice had gone husky and it sent a shiver of awareness through me.
I could feel his erection pressing against my belly. Or maybe it was my imagination. Yeah, it was. I'm sure it was. Of course it was.
The unwanted flood of heat to my core had me lifting my hips and testing what I knew to be true. And then he shifted, just a little, and inhaled sharply.
A groan tore out from deep in his chest, and his face dipped closer to mine.
With a strangled squeak, I whispered, "What are you doing?"
His furious gaze snapped to my lips and I waited.
And waited, my clit pulsing in time to my pulse.
Excruciatingly long seconds, and I felt every heartbeat in my throat.
And then he was gone.
His entire weight lifted off me, as he dragged me back to standing. "Are we done?" His voice rough-hewn and raw.
That unwanted pulsing between my thighs only intensified. "Yes."
As he shoved me toward the bedroom, I was terrified, I'd just blown my one and only shot for escape.
Drake
Getting Daphne settled had taken longer than expected. The old man looked fucking smug when I finally came downstairs again. “Could you please not?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t say a bloody word.”
Maybe he hadn’t said anything, but, his eyes had said so much. Everything about his body said I told you so.
I glowered at him. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
“Who me?”
I shoved by him, heading for the kitchen. I'd been forced to put Daphne in another room for now. I’d already cleared out anything that could potentially be dangerous, including the toilet paper holder. And the bed was on a platform, one of the low ones with a very modern design. She’d already proven far too resourceful. I wasn’t taking any chances.
“Can you keep her safe when I’m not here?” I asked.
“Always. I don’t agree with you, but like I said, no one gets in. And for her own safety, for now, she does not get out.”
I nodded at the old man. “Okay, I’m headed back to the city for a meeting in the morning.”
He nodded solemnly. “Are you armed. Do you have fresh ammo? You can stock up before you go.” He pushed past me, heading for the shed in the back. It looked like a regular garden shed on the outside, but I knew well that it had a subterranean level that could double as a bomb shelter. And it was armed to the teeth.
I followed him automatically, neither of us speaking until we were in the shed.
“She hurt you?” Reginald asked.
I glanced down at my leg and shrugged it off. “What’s the matter, old man? You worried about me?”
He smirked. “You’re still just Drakie to me, boy. A pain in the arse but still lovable. The thing you’re doing with this girl, though. I worry.”
I rubbed at the back of my neck where the tension had knotted. “I know. I’m still looking for the connection. I have full intentions of taking her back.”
Liar.
I couldn’t tell him that the more she fought me, the more I was inclined to keep her. The stronger she was, the more a little part of me admired her strength.
“You had better. This thing you’re doing… You’re flirting with a line you can’t come back from once you cross it.”
At this point, knowing she was upstairs in bed, there was a part of me that didn't want to come back from that edge.
15
Drake
The dream always started the same way. With me at that iconic bench trying to warn Saffron Abbott. Trying to tell her without blowing my cover what was coming for her if her parents came to visit.
For the Syndicate, for Massimo’s father, Antonio Igno, taking out the Abbotts was a coup. They were the heads of a secret group of spies that had been the bane of the Syndicate's existence for over a decade.