Page 19 of Marked

She closed her hand around the ceramic mug and mumbled a thank-you that seemed to be offered out of habit rather than appreciation. She cleared her throat. “Look. I know you’ve already stated you had nothing to do with taking her...” Her voice trailed off. “But after last night, I need to ask questions.”

Her words sizzled through him. Not that he’d let her opinion of him sting. He was what he was and he’d never apologize for it.

“I imagine you have connections with illegal operations,” she continued. “D-Do you know of any organizations hunting children?”

His blood pressure spiked, and he locked his hand around the coffee cup to keep from chucking it across the room. “If I did, they’d be facedown in the ocean.”

Her head bobbed slowly. She leaned forward and placed her untouched coffee on the table then dragged her hand over the mussed strands of her ponytail. Hiking her chin, she fixed her calculated eyes on him. “I need to take you in for questioning. If it weren’t for the stalking and—”

He snorted. “Ain’t happening. I didn’t touch your kid and I think you know it.”

Her tongue moved against the insides of her lips, sending all kinds of lude images to his brain. “Regardless. I need to do my job.”

“Got a warrant for my arrest?”

“I’m not arresting you,” she shot back.

“And I’m not going with you.”

She seethed.

Setting his coffee cup next to hers, he studied her pretty face—almost too pretty for his taste. High cheekbones, perfectly shaped eyebrows, eyes that resembled golden mocha. Even from here her lilac scent invaded him.

But fatigue pulled down her shoulders, fear hollowed her cheeks, and weariness creased the skin around her eyes. He picked up her coffee cup and passed it to her. “Drink and we’ll make a deal.”

Her mouth quirked into what could only be described as a half-smile. “I told you. I don’t make deals with the devil.”

“You’re going to want to make this one.”

She chewed her lip, then sipped.

“More. You probably haven’t consumed anything all day.”

She wrinkled her nose and took a longer sip. Then she tapped her gun. “Go.”

He rubbed his thumb over his index finger. “I’ll do everything in my power to find your daughter. But I want something in return.”

Her eyes widened, and she drew in a long breath. “You just said you don’t know anyone who could be involved.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t know people who can find out.” He lifted a shoulder. “If you’ve got a better lead then forget it.”

Her long lashes kissed her cheeks several times as she blinked rapidly. “I didn’t say that.” She smoothed her thumb over the mug and rolled in her lips. “What do you want in return? I don’t have a lot of money, but my ex-husband—”

He held out his hand. “I don’t want your money.”

Suspicion snapped her eyebrows together. “Then what exactly do you want?”

Leaning back on the coffee table, he took in her body. Lord almighty, that was a loaded question. He wanted her bent over, on top, on her knees, and—

Fuck, don’t go there.

“I want immunity.”

She laughed, the sound brittle and full of mockery. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a fucking kidnapping.”

Her smile fell. “I don’t have the power to grant you that. And even if I did, I think the people you’ve killed deserve justice.” Ice coated her voice.

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