Page 73 of Hearts Of Darkness

“Not lied exactly, I was creative with the truth. I do regret my part in your brother’s death, that Icanassure you. I never want to be the cause of pain for you.”

Is he for real?

“You will always be the cause of pain for me, Dante! Let me go. There’s nothing left for us now.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” My head jerks up, his words sawing like a blunt knife at my heart. “My aircraft is on standby to take you back to America.”

“Are you serious?”

“I only ask that you take one of my men with you. I’m in the midst of hell, Eve. I can’t have any distractions, and the other side do not take prisoners. They need to believe you’re history. It’s the only way to keep you alive. I’ll have a security detail waiting for you when you land. They’ll be discreet.”

I’ve wished for this moment for weeks, but now that it’s here, I’m devastated. How has this play flipped so far in hisfavor? Is this more of his skillful manipulation?

“You’re letting me go?”

“Yes.” He grits his jaw like it’s painful for him to say it.

“Just like that?”

“The rules of the game have changed.”

“So that’s all I am to you, a fucking pawn?”

“I thought this was what you wanted?”

It is. So why do I feel like I’m being betrayed all over again?

I swivel sideways and push myself off the bed. “I’d like to leave now,” I say quietly.

“It’s for the best, Eve.”

“Is the compound safe?”

“Yes. It’s back under my control. My brother and his men are long gone.”

I nod and walk over to the door. I can’t look in his direction, or I’ll lose whatever willpower I have left.

“Give my pilot an hour to refuel.” His tone is devoid of emotion. It’s like we’re strangers already.

I pull the door toward me, but he moves swiftly and slams it shut again, his large palm lingering on the wood panel above my shoulder. He’s standing right behind me; I can feel his hot breath on my neck. Our bodies are thrumming with energy from our close proximity. His scent is so strong, so masculine. Two days without washing has made it even more potent.

“Eve…”

“Don’t.”

“Let me look upon you one last time.” He sounds weary. Undone.

“You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve anything fromme.”

“I know.”

But I turn anyway. It’s like a compulsion I can’t ignore.

There’s a shadow disfiguring his left cheekbone, and one socket is darkening already. Before I know it, I’m skating a finger across the wound on his forehead, his powerful body shudders beneath my touch. His eyes are burning embers. A fire for me, and me alone.

I’m transfixed, pulled under by his riptide, all over again. He looks so bloodied and glorious, like a warrior returning from battle. My gaze falls to his lips—so full, so smooth. I want to feel them on me so badly. If this is goodbye, I want our last kiss to be as memorable as our first.

Like always, he seems to know exactly what I need. Our resolve crumbles together, and he smashes his mouth down onto mine, delving deep and hungry, pinning me to the door with his weight.

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