Page 14 of Stalking His Assassin

"The Carver is a fan of theatrics. Though, I'm sure the delivery method was so that I didn't kill you both on sight," she says, ignoring my closeness. She could easily move me. It'sanother win that she's allowing me so close. Especially when her back is to me. That's a sign of trust I never anticipated from her this soon.

"Would you have killed me, little wolf?" I ask, my voice a seductive growl. Goosebumps rise on her skin, but she gives no other outward sign that my closeness affects her.

"Probably. I don't like that my home isn't a secret. It's no longer secure. Killing you and Tomas would make it safe again. It's simple risk assessment."

"Your secret is safe with me, and I don't get the impression that Tomas has any ill intentions when it comes to you either," I say honestly.

"Loyalties change. If the Syndicate told Tomas it was time for me to be eliminated, I doubt his personal loyalty to me will trump his loyalty to the organization. That would defeat the purpose of the Syndicate."

"I'm not part of the Syndicate, and I would kill Tomas myself if I thought he was a threat to you."

She doesn't respond. She's deep in thought as she finishes cooking two of the best-looking omelets I've ever seen. She plates them and sets them on the counter in front of two barstools.

"Have a seat. What would you like to drink? I have strawberry lemonade, almond milk, grape soda, and water. Or I can make you tea or coffee."

"Water is fine."

She fills two glasses with ice water and then sits beside me. We eat in companionable silence. She finishes her food and then yawns. I take our empty plates and glasses to the sink.

"You can leave them for tomorrow. It's too late for dishes. Let me show you the guest room."

"As long as you promise to let me wash them when we wake up. You cooked; I clean."

Her lips tilt up in a small smile, which I consider a huge win. So many wins in one night. Very promising start, though I'm sure it won't all be easy. "Promise."

The room she brings me to is bigger than I expected. "It's not much, but the bed is comfortable and has an ensuite, so you have your own bathroom."

"It's almost perfect."

She nods, not asking me to clarify. Probably for the best, considering my answer is that it would be perfect only if it was her bed that I'd be sleeping in. This will do for tonight.

"My room is at the end of the hall. You have free rein in the apartment except for my office. If you attempt to access my office, I will know immediately, so I wouldn't suggest you try."

With those parting words, she heads down the hall towards her bedroom. "Sweet dreams, little wolf."

She pauses at my words, and I'm almost certain I hear her say, "Sleep sweet," but it's so quiet I can't be sure. Because I'm a hopeful bastard, I decide she did say it, and I'm one step closer to breaking through her hard exterior.

I want to crawl into bed and pass out, but I need a shower first.

five

GRACE

"What am I going to do?"

Potato meows from my bed, watching me pace like a maniac. After leaving Christos in the guest room, I locked myself in my room. I spent several minutes silently panicking before I started ranting at my cat.

This is so not me.

I don't panic.

I don't do emotional outbursts.

I don't feel these feelings.

What feelings, you ask? Ones that have my girly bits shouting that just because I've lived a celibate life—for many reasons—I am still very much a sexually healthy woman, and Christos is the hottest man that ever walked the planet.

"Seriously. If ever there were a time where you could impart some great wisdom, now would be the time, Potato."

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