Page 9 of Beautiful Vengeance

Karas groaned and rolled to her left side, laying her head in Kiyomi’s lap. Kiyomi couldn’t help but smile. “Look who’s decided to warm up to me.”

“Aye, she likes you,” Marcus said, his deep voice like a caress.

“I’m glad. When did you bring her back here to the UK?”

His smile faded. “The lads brought her into the hospital after I’d… After Megan got me out of the prison I was held at. The staff set up a little bed for her on the floor and took turns taking care of her while I was laid up. They flew us back to the UK together, and the rest is history.”

Kiyomi had so many questions about what had happened to him. About how Megan had managed to rescue him. But she couldn’t ask him about something so private. “And now she lives like a princess in this beautiful manor,” she murmured, stroking one of Karas’s velvety brown ears.

“Aye, she does that.” He took a sip of the tea, the low sound of appreciation he made setting off a curl of heat in her lower belly.

“How is it?”

Those dark-chocolate eyes warmed as he looked at her. “Perfect. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” And speaking of pleasure, she was pretty sure she wanted the chance to experience some with him.

She stood, giving her the chance to conceal her attraction to him. “Mind if I borrow a book?”

“Help yourself. I’ve got some accounting to do anyway.” He planted his palms on the floor and pushed up onto his left knee, a slight grimace of pain pulling at his features as he stood. She had to stem the urge to help him, not wanting to bruise his pride or make him think she saw him as weak.

She went to the bookcase nearest his desk to consider her options, and her gaze immediately fell on the leather-bound copy of The Secret Garden.

A little over a week ago he’d shown her how it could open the bookcase to reveal the secret passage beyond it, and the old priest hole dating back centuries that he and Megan had turned into an impressively equipped loadout room. Precautions were smart, but Kiyomi hoped they wouldn’t need it before the time came for all of them to leave this place.

Breaking from her thoughts, she turned slightly to let him pass her on the way to his desk. Their eyes met. Held.

Breathless seconds stretched out while her heart began to race with excitement and tingles spread through her lower belly. Her gaze dipped to his mouth, tracing the shape of his lips, already imagining the moment when they touched hers.

Don’t. You’ll taint him.

The whisper in the back of her mind took her off guard, stabbed the most vulnerable spot in her battered heart. All the self-loathing, all the shame rose up, coalescing into a single face.

Fayez Rahman.

The memory stopped her cold, instantly killing all anticipation and building arousal.

All the therapy she’d done thus far hadn’t yet reached the ugliness inside her, but everything she’d buried had risen to the surface. She felt unworthy, contaminated because of what she’d done and what had been done to her by other men.

Rahman had changed everything. He’d broken the seal on that box inside her, and there was no fixing it now. Not when he had a bounty on her sizeable enough to attract all sorts of hitters. Not when he’d been planning to sell her to earn it back.

Breaking eye contact, she grabbed a random book from the shelf. “Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.” She spun around and headed for the door, imagining the feel of Marcus’s arms around her and his mouth on hers, even as her skin crawled with shame.

It only hardened her resolve to end this, and Rahman with it.

Her fellow Valkyries had flat-out refused to entertain the idea of her posing as bait to draw Rahman out. But no matter what, they would get him. And when they did, Kiyomi would end him personally.

He had to die by her hand. It was the only way she could move forward.

Chapter Three

Fayez tugged at the hem of his tailored sport jacket as he stepped out of the armored vehicle in front of the three-story, cream stucco mansion in Latakia, on the Syrian coast.

Two of his bodyguards accompanied him up the walkway to the front door while the salty breeze blew around them. His head of security remained in the vehicle, having already cleared him to enter the house.

A servant opened the front door and bowed slightly. “Good evening, sir. She’s outside on the balcony.”

He nodded and continued into the house. The smell of something delicious hung in the air, spiced with the faint fragrance of cinnamon and cardamom as he walked through the entry and past the kitchen, where a chef and his assistant were busy preparing the evening meal.

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