Page 90 of The Truths that Deceive

“Why?” I whisper. “So you can pull down my barriers and make me like you before you hand me over?”

“No, we both know you might want me, but like me? It’ll never happen.”

We stare at each other, and he rests his head lightly against mine.

“Maybe,” he adds, “I just need to forget all the shit for a night.”

“Go raid an old people’s home.”

“Banned.”

Laughter bubbles free. “Because you’re a pervert.”

“I know.”

We’re spinning, orbiting each other, keeping away from the reality of the situation, the truth of why I’m here and what he’s going to do. And that nagging voice in my head keeps barking about how he wants all my information, not just on the Collectors, but the weapons.

But right now, it’s all outside the window, looking in. The questions, the fears, and heat pulsates in me, throbbing deep, sending tingling, sweeping sensations along my skin.

His fingers skim the line of my jaw and my head tips up.

Smith kisses me.

It’s slow and both without reason and full of intention. It’s a kiss that wants and also gives. And I sink into it, kissing him back, mouth open, tongue seeking his. They touch, dance, and a thrill slides through me.

When he lifts his head, my feet are barely touching theground and my heart’s slamming hard against my ribs. I want to kiss him again. Right or wrong, I want more.

He’s already untangling from me. And I hit the earth again. “Do you want something to eat?”

“No. I raided your kitchen earlier.”

“Of course you did.”

If anyone peeked in, this would seem to be a mundane moment of domestic bliss. But underneath? Wild things. “Where were you?”

Smith shakes his head. “I’m fucking tired. And you should grab another nap. We have things to do tomorrow.” He stops. “I’m not handing you over. Not yet. You’re helping me and I got nowhere today.”

“If we have a truce?—”

“I had meetings, and there are more tonight. And you? You’ll continue to pretend to be my wife or sex toy, depending on where we are.”

“Really,” I say dryly.

“Really. You’re the one insisting all hands on deck.” Then he pulls a list from his pocket. “See what you can find on these names.”

I take the list and spread it open.

My breath catches in my throat.

I know who some of these people are.

Collectors.

Chapter 25

Smith

The list is a test. One she passes quickly. And her expression tells me she knows that’s exactly what it is.

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