Page 67 of Hunt Me
He laughed. “It gives me every right. You certainly weren’t interested in providing the truth about your identity.”
“And why the hell is that? Because you’re a gangster.” Heat flushed my system, the distinctive throb deep within my core pissing me off. He was obviously a monster. How could I still be attracted to him?
“A gangster. I haven’t been called that in years. You seem confused as to why I’m here,” he said in his dark tone, allowing his eyes to sweep over me.
“I’m only confused as to how a talented, intelligent woman could have a monster as a brother.”
He seemed amused, both corners of his upper lip curling in a smile. “Both my sisters are protected within my world. They chose not to be a part of the family business. However, it would appear you’ve been talking with someone about the Dmitriyev family and our less than scrupulous reputation. I’m curious who. Although I have my thoughts. You were my sister’s roommate in college.”
He’d already researched my life and my past. “So what?”
“So, did you try and manipulate Lilia into telling you trade secrets?”
“Are you crazy? She was and still is my friend. We studied together. We laughed together. Other than the fact she had a twenty-four/seven bodyguard, she was just another student.”
His laugh was sardonic. “And you weren’t curious as to why?”
“Oh, please. There were a half dozen rich kids with bodyguards.” I was winging it, although the idea seemed plausible. I couldn’t provide him with any ammunition to hurt me. Would he?
Snorting, I folded my arms across my chest, shivering, the realization that even if I screamed, no one would be able to hear me creating a wave of terror. I had to allow him to think I was no danger to him.
“Very true, Bristol, but you’re no fool.” He narrowed his eyes, watching me. Studying me.
My skin was beginning to crawl.
“Maybe I am since I became tangled with you,” I threw back, instantly regretting it. Irritating him wasn’t in my best interest. “I saw your interview on television. You were threatening.”
“Was I?”
“You’re dangerous.”
He shifted in his seat. “Yes, I am.”
“What are you doing here? Why hunt me down?” I had to buy some time. I needed to get my phone.
“I think you know that answer, Bristol. I’m curious if you are experiencing a guilty conscience.”
“For what?” My legs were trembling.
“For crouching over the body of a very good friend of mine. For having your long, lovely fingers wrapped around the murder weapon.”
Oh. My. God.
A single bead of perspiration formed just above one eye.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
When he took a deep breath, his eyes became more penetrating. “I can handle many things, many foibles of human nature, Bristol, but one thing I can’t handle is lying. You were seen at the home of Sergio Pavel. Don’t bother denying you were there. You either went there to seduce or kill him. Perhaps both.”
“That’s not true. I’m not that kind of girl.” My skin began to crawl. What was he planning on doing with me?
The air between us crackled with electricity just like it had a few nights before. Yet it was supercharged, leaving me close to suffocation.
His sigh was heavy, full of disbelief.
I took a step away, mentally going through the number of steps I’d need to take before racing through the back door, which was closest.
“Then what kind of girl are you?” His question created another trickle of fear.
