Page 10 of Assassin's Mark
Chapter Six
“That’s ridiculous. My father wouldn’t—”
Levi’s laugh cut me off, dark amusement and knowledge far beyond anything I could comprehend. I was looking at the man in front of me, being told he’d murdered someone, and despite that, I couldn’t imagine him as—what? A hit man?
This had to be a dream. Any minute I’d wake up and this would all be gone and I would be wrapped in Levi’sarms in the hotel bed, feeling his arousal and seeing wickedly hungry eyes looking down at me with zero malice.
Yes, I was delusional even considering that. Apparently I was delusional about a lot of things.
“You’re not…an assassin.”
“No?”
I eyed him warily. “Who did you kill, then?”
His snort hit me like a shot, proving my nerves weren’t taking this as calmly as my mind. Which wasn’t trulycalm either, so… “More people than I can count, but I could narrow that down for you. I won’t, though—that would be telling.” His gaze strayed to the computer screen half-obscured by his body. “The point is, your father tried to make sure I was next.”
Probably a good objective if you looked at it without bias.
What was I thinking? Dad wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t.
The deadly gleam in Levi’seyes said differently.
Play along.“So my father hired a hit man—you. That’s between you and him. What does it have to do with me? How do I fit into this?” I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer, though I desperately needed it if I was going to figure my way out of this hell. “You said I can’t go home. Are you kidnapping me? Do you plan to kill me?”
“You’re just the start, but a good one. An enjoyableone.” Remembered pleasure softened his expression. A shudder jerked through me. “I don’t plan to kill you, Abby.” A pause. The tension in my muscles eased. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Why? What have I ever done to you?”
“Nothing. It’s not about you.”
“Then what?”
“It’s about destroying your father’s life.” He stalked forward, stopping far too close for me to be comfortable. “Do you know how you destroya man’s life? Start with his reputation—or in this case, the reputation of those closest to him.”
“How?”
Levi stared me down for a long time. I couldn’t read the look, but then, I couldn’t have trusted anything I read, anyway. He’d proved that far too effectively. And then he stepped aside, allowing me access to the desk behind him. A wave of his hand invited me forward. “See for yourself.”
Ignoring the warnings screaming through my head, I walked toward the desk. He seemed amused at my wariness, but right now I couldn’t bring myself to care. My head was too full, too confused, my heartbeat too fast, my breath too shallow. I was going to pass out if something didn’t give. And then I reached the desk and moved my gaze from Levi to the computer, and the possibility of fainting grew exponentially.
Pictures. Of me. There were a dozen open on the screen, a sea of naked skin—mynaked skin. I was asleep, my hands and feet tied in leather restraints I’d only seen associated with the little bit of BDSM culture that had leaked into mainstream with the release ofFifty Shades of Grey. My hair was after-sex wild, my skin bearing the faint darkening of raspberries and beard burn and bruises in intimateplaces.
That can’t be me.But it was. Staged, maybe, but me nonetheless. I glanced down at my wrists. In the clear light of day, they bore no signs of the cuffs in the picture. And Levi hadn’t tied me while we were at the hotel.
Levi seemed to follow the path my own thoughts had taken. “Don’t worry. I made sure you were asleep for that part.”
His amusement stung, sharp enough to spark a reactionin the fog of disbelief smothering me. “Am I supposed to thank you for that?”
“You should.”
I met his eyes and agreed. I wouldn’t have enjoyed the experience, even as role-play; the look on his face promised that.
He hadn’t enjoyed last night at all, had he? Or at least not the way I’d thought he had. He got off, but that look… I turned away, letting my hair fall forward to hide my face, mytears as I stared down at the computer screen. I’d fallen asleep content, filled with a quiet joy that my first time had been so good. I hadn’t been imagining diamond rings and wedding dates—that was an impossibility for me, even if I did manage to avoid the marriage my father wanted—but I hadn’t felt cheap either, not like I did now. And naive for imagining that last night was anything but cheapsex. I hadn’t even suspected, not for a second.
Was that what made me prey instead of predator, that inability to see, to protect myself from men like Levi and my father? I stared at the red marks on my breasts, glaring in the light of the computer screen. Accusations, every one of them.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
