Page 87 of Rugger: The Huntress

“Come again–”

My eyes were planted on his handsome face. His had never left mine.

“Three quarters, Rugs. Seven-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Six transactions. Four in full, two partials.”

“Thank you.”

I ended the call.

“Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars?”

“They were all small fish. I mean, big fish with decent bounties, but nothing quite worthy of what’s between your legs. It’s a start, though.”

“You’re full of surprises, I see.”

“More desert?” He asked, tilting his head toward the cake.

“For you, yes. It’s warm and moist, waiting for you to have a taste.”

Sonnie stood on his feet at once. He extended a hand and took mine. We stopped by the coat rack to grab our garments.

As soon as they were on our backs, our hands rejoined. Together, we exited through the private entry ofUri. The sleek black Audi was still parked near the curb, the engine still running, and waiting for our arrival.

SEVEN

I pushed inside my home, desperate to get Rugger in the warmth and out of the cold. Slowly, she strutted through the door. By the time she reached the coat closet, my hands were near her breasts, pulling backward to relieve her of the extra fabric.

“Thank you,” she uttered.

Patiently, she stepped aside and waited until it was tucked away. The weight of the piece made it clear she was holding. I hadn’t expected anything less.

I slid my coat down my arms and hung it beside hers. Closely, Gazelle watched me while shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She folded an arm across her and placed the right oneon top of it. Her thumb tapped against her bottom lip, denting it each time they collided.

It wasn’t until I had completed the simple tasks that she prepared for movement. Upright with a straightened spine and hand by her side, she sought guidance. Her demonstration of trust filled me with a sense of gratitude. Her natural instincts were slowly voiding themselves. She was shedding a little more of her independence with each passing second.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed or unappreciated. Gazelle was not the average woman. She was born to dominate. Born to lead. Born to acquire control, not relinquish it.

Her cold hands slipped right into mine as we stood in the foyer. I guided her toward the living room where the fireplaces were burning. There were three in total, covering the large space with the glass walls and ceiling that heavily influenced the temperature year round.

“Tea?”

A swift nod led me to believe it was the perfect suggestion. I released her from my grip and headed toward the kitchen. The open floorplan allowed me to keep an eye on the dark beauty even from afar.

I grabbed a bag of lavender tea, the kettle, and one of two mugs available. Warm water filled the kettle halfway before I placed it on the stove. With it on the open flame, I pulled back the drawer containing silverware.

Six knives.

Two spoons.

Two forks.

Two sauce cups.

Two compact pistols.

I took a look over the counter, finding Gazelle right where my eyes had left her. Both arms caressed her body as she stood near the fire. A peep over her shoulder and the desolation inthose big, anguished orbs halted my thoughts. Slowed my heart. Stilled my world.

Apprehension.

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