Dangerous Desire

33

His brows shoot up. “No, it’s blackmail, which isn’t at all like cheating. Especially because—as you claim—you don’t like kissing me. And let’s not forget, you’ve already done it once.”

“Only because I thought it would save a man’s life.”

I see the moment when a new idea crosses his mind. His smile turns dangerous, and a glint of violence lights up his gaze.

“Killian,” I say hotly, “don’t you dare threaten Naz’s life to get me to kiss you. Don’t you dare.”

“Or you’ll do what?”

“I don’t know yet, but you won’t like it!”

He stares at me for a long time in silence, simply examining my expression, his own expression thoughtful. Then he exhales, and all the light in his eyes dies with that breath.

“There’s a price to pay for everything in life, Eva. We both know that. The greater the prize, the higher the price. I already know you’re willing to sacrifice anything to keep him alive. And you know I’m a man for whom the end justifies any means. We’ll both do whatever is necessary . . . and that makes us dangerous. No limits means no rules, and without rules we’re basically animals.”

His voice drops an octave. “And this animal wants to kiss you again enough to kill a man I’ve never met and have no quarrel with. So like it or not, I’m threatening his life.”

So angry I could scream, but too weak to do anything but lie here, I stare at Killian, willing his head to explode. When it doesn’t, I say, “You’re a despicable human being.”

“Is that a yes?”

I close my eyes and blow out a frustrated breath. “If I agree, you’ll only up the ante. This time it’s a kiss. Next time it will be something worse. I can’t trust you to keep your word.”

When I feel a gentle touch on my cheek, my eyes fly open. Killian traces his fingertip over my cheekbone and down to my lips. Very softly, looking at my mouth, he says, “You can trust me with anything.”

“Please. Enough with the BS. I’m not the i***t you think I am.”

His thumb brushes my lower lip. “You’re only an i***t when it comes to Naz, but what I said is true. You can trust me.” He drags his gaze from my mouth to my eyes. “You have no idea what I’m risking for you.”

My heartbeat ticks up a notch. “I would if you told me.”

After a moment, he says quietly, “Millions of other people’s lives.”

I’m horrified to discover I believe him. We stare at each other in silence until I gather the courage to say, “Tell me what that means.”

He sits back and scrubs a hand over his face. “Can’t. Wouldn’t even if I could. And now it’s time for me to go.” He glances back at me. “But I’m not going to forget our bargain, bhrèagha. You owe me a kiss.”

He stands and walks toward the front door. I call out after him, “I never said I’d kiss you again!”

He opens the door, pauses, then looks back at me over his shoulder. “You didn’t say you wouldn’t, either.”

Smiling, he walks through the door and closes it behind him.

A short while later, as I’m drifting off to sleep, Naz kicks it open with a booted foot and bursts inside.

FIFTEEN

NAZ

The door crashes open with a thundering boom that rattles the windows. With Connor two feet behind me, I rush inside, my M16 raised. I sweep the rifle left and right as I search for any movement, adrenaline burning white hot through my veins.

I spot a small figure lying still on the sofa, covered in a blanket, and freeze.

Moving swiftly and silently past me, Connor goes down a short hallway to my left, sweeps the room, and says, “Clear.”

I’m still not moving. I can’t. I’m frozen in horror and disbelief.

Eva’s face is pale and blotchy, her normally glowing skin like wax. Her hair is shorn off at jaw length with what must’ve been a very dull knife. Her eyes are open but unfocused, and there’s an IV inserted into the back of one hand.

Worst of all is the bruising.

A large purple spot on her left cheek is yellowing around the edges. Her lower lip is split on one side. On her chin, an ugly black-and-blue mark is livid, and the delicate skin of her throat is mottled with fading discolorations in the shape of fingers.

Big. Strong. Fingers.

“Jesus Christ,” I breathe. A jolt of pure rage flares through me. It powers through my shock and gives me the boost to run to her.

“Clear,” Connor says from one of the back rooms, but I’m not listening. I’m on my knees beside the sofa, taking Eva’s face into my shaking hands.

“Sweetheart,” I rasp, desperate to hear her voice. “Talk to me. Eva—Eva, say something, please!”

As if trying to see if I’m real, she reaches out and touches my face with the tips of her fingers. Moisture wells in her eyes. She whispers, “Beastie. You’re here.”

“All clear,” Connor says, returning to the living room with his rifle lowered just as I gather Eva into my arms and hug her tight.