Page 109 of Brutal Legacy

“Good. She’s going to be your bodyguard when I’m not around.”

“She’s scary and awesome… Why a woman? Didn’t trust me around a man?” I dissolved into giggles. It suddenly seemed so funny that Elio might think I was some kind of sexpot man-eater, when in reality, I’d only ever been with one man. Him.

“More like I don’t trust them. I know better than to test a man with a temptation like you.”

I wished it was brighter in here and I could see his face. But it was shrouded in shadow.

I gripped his hand like it was a lifeline in a turbulent sea — the only thing that could keep me alive.

“Be careful, dear husband. I might start to think that you don’t hate me as much as you say you do.”

“You can hate someone and want them at the same time.” His voice was dangerously deep. “You taught me that.”

Acting on sheer drunken impulse, I pushed myself up, bringing my face close to his. He stiffened, but there was no stopping me when I was this drunk. Suddenly, tempting Elio’s ironlike control was all I wanted. I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to break his rules for me.

“So, you hate me, but you want me, and you have me here… all yours,” I said.

In the dark, with only the neon glow of the city seeping through the windows, I could just make out his eyes. He was looking down at my lips. Heat surged through me.

I swayed toward him, leaned in, and landed a kiss on his lips.

His hands immediately closed around my shoulders and moved me back.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

A tear escaped my eye and dripped down my cheek.

“Why?” I asked. “You said you wanted me. You were lying, right? Just like then. You never really wanted me. You just wanted what you could take from me…” My voice broke near the last word. The damn wine had made me vulnerable and unfiltered.

He took his time to answer.

“I don’t kiss drunk women,” he said simply.

“That’s nice to know, you’re great at avoiding answering things,” I said, dizziness taking over.

Oh, I’d really had too much to drink.

I lay back down, blinking at him a few times, my eyes growing heavier with each one.

“You’re a professional. Did you train in how to survive torture?” I was so hot. I couldn’t stand it. I pulled at my shirt, trying to unbutton it and take it off.

Elio’s blunt-tipped fingers brushed mine out of the way and finished the job. I tossed the shirt across the room and flopped back in just my bra.

“But then, this isn’t torture, is it?” I chuckled.

Elio stared at me. “Isn’t it?”

I rolled onto my side and reached up to tap his nose.

“It’s good,” I said, “not to kiss drunk girls. You’re still a good guy, though you kill people now. But if you only kill bad guys, does that made you a good guy?”

My voice was slurred, my thoughts slipping away.

“Me,” I continued sleepily, my words barely making sense anymore, “I don’t kiss drunk girls. Or drunk guys, either.”

A pause.

“Do you want to know a secret?” I whispered.

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