Page 11 of Vienna Bargain

Alexander perched on the edge of the table, his foot an inch from her knee. He wore slacks and a button down-shirt. It was probably what he thought of as casual weekend wear but he still looked polished and wealthy. He leaned forward.

“If I were you, I’d watch my tongue.”

“The line is ‘I wouldn’t say such things if I were you.’”

Alexander’s arm shot out. Alena wished she were the kind of person who could remain stoically still. But she wasn’t, and she flinched back, turning her face away.

Alexander snorted in derision. “Scared?”

“What do you want, Alexander?” She licked her lips and straightened. “You want to knock me around as punishment? Beat me so I’ll tell you what I know?”

“And if I do?” His face was an unreadable mask.

“Then that will hurt a lot, I will cry, maybe beg you to stop, but I still won’t tell you.”

“There are things that wouldn’t leave a mark.”

“I would really prefer not to be waterboarded, but if it will make you feel better…” She shrugged.

“You are clever. That means you had a plan in the event you were caught.”

“The plan usually includes not getting caught.”

“But you had a plan. Austrian jails are not like your American ones. Perhaps you don’t fear prison.”

Alexander paused for several moments, and the silence was agonizing.

“Perhaps you have a plan to escape police custody.”

Alena held very still. She did not like where this line of reasoning was taking the conversation.

“You mentioned the authorities. Said you assumed they’d arrive soon.”

Damn it.

Alexander’s dangling foot swung casually, and he seemed to relax a little more with each moment of silence, even as that same silence made her muscles knot with tension and dread.

“I will not call the police,” he said menacingly

Alena forced a smile even as her internal monologue began a looping string of cuss words.

“Really? That’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming. So tell me, Alexander, what are you planning on doing?” She raised her chin. “Going to finish choking me then have my body placed in a shallow grave?”

His foot stopped swinging and his body stiffened as he looked at her neck. She hadn’t seen a mirror so she didn’t know if his fingers had left bruises on her, or if it was just the memory that caused him to tense.

Baiting him was painfully stupid, because she was banking on him not actually killing her. It was both naive and hypocritical of her to assume that the intimacy they shared, plus her assessment of his character, meant she wasn’t in mortal danger.

But he’d been angry, so terribly angry. It had hurt to see it, because she was the reason for it.

And because behind that anger, deep in his green eyes, she’d seen hurt. The pain of betrayal.

She’d done that to him.

And she hated herself for it.

But it didn’t change what she had to do. She’d lost this round. Maybe she was wrong and she wasn’t the player, but a piece. The white queen taken out by the black knight in a move the queen hadn’t seen coming.

She wished she could tell him this was all just a game. That in the end what she was doing would actually help him.

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