Page 57 of Lethal Legacy

I have that strand of hair. Hell, after last night, I’ve got Lucia’s DNA whenever I goddamn want it. But that’s just the problem. If she’s never had a test done, then she’s not on any database. But if she has...

There’ll be people watching for it.

And that means putting not only Lucia, but my godchildren, at risk. Not to mention possibly exposing Mercura.

There are other ways to find out what I need to know. Safer ways.

The easiest way of all is to gain her trust. Convince her that she can tell me her secrets. Seduce her until she has no thought of hiding anything from me.

And I like that idea a whole lot more.

It means I can stop pushing her away. Means I don’t have to exert self-discipline in taking her whenever I like.

I’ll make Lucia mine. Make her feel safer than she ever has, more relaxed and happy than she knew she could be. And then, when she’s utterly at ease, I’ll ask her the hard questions. In the meantime, I’ve got enough security to stave off any threat that might come our way, as well as a technological powerhouse that can see digital searches coming long before the seeker even knows they’re being watched.

I settle back into the seat, feeling an almost exhilarating calm spread through my body despite the stresses of the night.

In fact, I feel calmer than I have in years. More centered. More... certain.

And if sex with Lucia is the secret sauce that gets me there, then I can’t see any downside to my current plan. Because I intend to have a whole lot more of it.

Soon.

In fact, I intend to fuck Lucia Lopez until she forgets her past entirely—and I become her only future.

17

LUCIA

The children’s flight is late. Luis takes the sedan to the underground parking garage, and I go upstairs into the lounge and order a coffee. I’m grateful for a moment to myself. Luis is less conspicuous than Dimitry, lean and wiry with a ready smile and easy manner that I imagine makes him the perfect driver for the kids. He is watchful, nonetheless, and this morning I don’t feel like being scrutinized.

I barely slept after being unceremoniously thrown out of Roman’s bed. Partly because I was, and still am, attempting to process the utterly mind-blowing sex we had. Partly because I’m worried that it wasn’t quite so mind-blowing for Roman, given how abruptly he kicked me out. And finally, which possibly should be the top reason, because I’m concerned about the security breach he mentioned.

I’ve been trying to tell myself it can’t possibly have anything to do with me. But I can’t know that, any more than I can ask Roman directly, without giving myself away more than I already have. And now I’m about to pick up his godchildren, and there’s a possibility that I’m putting them at risk just by being close to them.

I try to suppress the sick feeling that gives me. It isn’t like I haven’t considered the risks already, from the day that Roman offered me the job. I’ve countered my fears about the children with the argument that even if the Orlovs somehow manage to track me down, there’s no advantage at all to them in harming Roman’s family. They want Papa and me. If they found us, they’d simply take us. There’s no reason for them to start a war with another clan, particularly one as powerful as Roman’s clearly is. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I genuinely thought my presence in Roman’s household would pose a risk.

But my internal argument doesn’t make me feel any better about what is, essentially, deception. Nor does it lessen my worry that I’m putting Roman, and his godchildren, in danger.

And those are just the first of my worries today.

“Miss Lopez.” I look up, startled, to find Dimitry’s rugged bulk looming over the table. He pulls out a seat, which looks comically small when he settles into it. “Roman wanted me to join you this morning, make sure everything goes smoothly.”

That means the security breach is a real thing. Or does it mean he just doesn’t trust me?

I can hardly ask him either of those questions.

“Is everything okay?” I ask cautiously.

“Sure.” But he doesn’t quite meet my eye, and there’s a certain grim set to his mouth that makes me deeply uneasy. Dimitry, I sense, doesn’t entirely trust me. And even though I shouldn’t care less for the opinion of Roman’s second in charge, I don’t like the idea of anyone close to Roman thinking ill of me. Especially given how easily he kicked me out of his room last night.

“I warned you there was no emotional entanglement, Lucia.”

“I don’t give out scorecards, Lucia.”

I knew not to expect too much. I just hadn’t expected tofeelso much.

I’veneverlet myself go in the bedroom like that. I’ve never experienced anything even remotely close to how it felt to have Roman Stevanovsky inside me, dominating me, controlling my every movement, down to when I actually orgasm.

---