Page 13 of Not Mine to Keep

“You don’t know me.” A touch of a smile came and went from his lips. “Well, unless you researched me, too.” His attention went to the bookshelf on the far side of the room where my safe had been hidden inside a cabinet. “So why the weapons?” he deflected.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I’m a single woman living alone and there are a lot of assholes in the world. Case in point.” I lifted my chin, finding his eyes again, letting him know he was now said asshole.

“I’m not here to hurt you. In fact, quite the opposite.” He frowned, his lips scowly-ish, as if he’d eaten something bitter or found my presence offensive.

Um, you’re the offensive one. You’re in my house. I should be annoyed. Angry. Probably screaming, too.

“Your father doesn’t know I’m here. And he sure as hell didn’t send me. The only time I talk to criminals is if I’mquestioningthem.” Earlier, his accent had been more like a subtle, underlying note of seduction, but now, it was cutting through a touch thicker ... sexier? I stifled a groan.

There’s something seriously wrong with me.“I don’t believe you.”

“Ahh, but you do, or you wouldn’t still be standing here. You’d run.” He lifted his hand like a request to continuenotrunning. “I’ll get to the point.”

“Please do, because I’m seconds away from screaming my head off. Mr. Crabby next door may be old and crotchety, but he’s got a shotgun he’s been waiting for a chance to use, and he won’t hesitate to save me.”Even if I drive him nuts from time to time.

“Glad to know he’d have your six. I’d trust him over your father’s men parked down the street any day. Hell, they clearly have no clue I’m here.” He kept his eyes on me as he continued, “I have inside information about your problem, and I’ve been tasked with helping you.”

I pushed away from the wall at his words and relaxed my hands for only a moment, shaking them out at my sides. “What do you mean?”

“Remember I said I also have a side gig?” He started to stand, and I flinched and went back to the wall. Immediately clocking my reaction to his movement, he lowered himself back into his seat. “I help people out. People who are in trouble.”

“You know, I’ve heard of that line of work before. What’s it called again?” I briefly chewed on my thumbnail in mock thought before snapping out, “Oh, yeah. Billionaire comic book superhero. Totally fiction. They don’t exist in real life.” I turned to the side, unamused, and pointed to the door. “Now leave, or I scream and Mr. Crabby gets to use his shotgun.”

“Calliope, please. I need you to listen to me.”

“Don’t say my name.” Because I hated how beautiful it sounded rolling from his tongue.

“Your father’s plans changed for you. You don’t have until you’re thirty-five to marry anymore. You have until this Wednesday. And the man he’s chosen for you to marry is ... well, he’s a monster.”

My heart stopped, and my entire body went cold as he rocked me to my very core. “W-who told you that if it wasn’t Armani? How do you know ...?”

“An inside source who disagrees with Armani’s plans to snatch you on Monday and force your hand.Andto force you to give him an heir,” he said, not holding back as he gripped the chair’s arms.

“No. I’m not marrying or having a kid for him to steal away and turn into the king of his empire. Hell no. And he could never force me to do such a thing.”

“He can. And he will,” he rasped. “But that’s what I’m trying to prevent from happening.”

“Why? We don’t know each other.” I shook my head. “No way would you just help me. You’re a stranger.”

He pointed to the stairwell off to the side of the bookshelf. “I can take you somewhere he’ll never find you. Anywhere you want to go. If that’s what you want, I can protect you. You can pack your bags now, but you’ll need to say goodbye to this life forever.”

“First of all,” I began, pushing away from the wall, “you think I’m going to take off with you? Maybe you watched a few too many serial killer documentaries and this is some new way to steal women and have your way with them.”

“I’m not trying to have my way with ...” He discarded his words, probably deciding they’d sounded sexual (or maybe that was just me), but with that intense, husky tone of his, sex seemed to ooze from every word he spoke whether he meant for it to or not. The fact that I let the thought even register meant I was clearly too hungry and vexed to think straight. “And secondly?” he prompted, waiting for me to carry on.

“Secondly, don’t you think if I was the running type, I would have done it when I first learned who my biological father was and what he wanted from me?” The thought had crossed my mind a half dozen times in the last year. My aunt said she had a plan to deal with Armani when the time came, too. But I had a life here and didn’t want to leave it behind.

“There are only two ways I can help you. If you won’t take option one, which is a new identity and life in hiding, then—”

“Let’s say I believe you.” Searching for that spine of mine I’d lost for a moment, I tacked on, “I don’t, just to be clear, but let’s say I do.” I kept my head high as I went on, “What’s the second option that’ll help fulfill your desire to imitate a comic book hero and save me?”

His forehead creased as he stared at me, his chest inflating with the mother of long breaths before letting it go. “That you marry me instead.” His palm whipped up again like a plea not to run.

Was he kidding?

“Your father found out he only has a few years to live, and he’s done waiting. He’s going to force you to marry Wednesday.” The dark words shredded me into practically nothing, because for some reason, I kind of did believe him, which explained why I hadn’t bolted from the room or screamed yet.

I wanted Armani dead. He was evil as far as I was concerned, and I wouldn’t mourn his loss. But if his death meant he’d force me to do the unthinkable, then maybe I had no choice but to give up my life in Tennessee and run.Well, unless I ask my aunt for help. Pull her away from her hard-earned vacation and involve her in my mess.God, that was the last thing I wanted to do.

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