Page 35 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
"Then help me understand what it is instead of just ordering me around," she fires back.
Something in me snaps. In two strides, I'm in front of her, backing her against the counter. "You think this is a game? You have no idea what you're dealing with."
Instead of shrinking away, she tilts her chin up. "So tell me."
"People like the ones we're hunting don't leave witnesses," I say, my voice dropping dangerously low. "Theydon't care about your press credentials or your right to information."
"I'm not afraid," Her voice wavers ever so slightly, that tiny tremor impossible for most to detect, but I register it immediately.
"You should be." I grab her wrist, my thumb pressing against her pulse point. It's racing. "Fear keeps you alive."
Her breath hitches, but she doesn't pull away. "Is that how you live? Afraid all the time?"
"Cautious," I correct her. "There's a difference."
"Fine," her free hand coming to rest on my chest, not pushing me away but establishing a boundary. "Then be cautious with me. Work with me."
I release her wrist but don't step back. "My team operates in shadows for a reason. We can't have a reporter running around, asking questions, drawing attention."
"Then I'll investigate on my own," she threatens, pushing against my chest. "Without you."
The thought of her out there alone, vulnerable, makes something dark and possessive rise within me. Before I realize what I'm doing, my hand is on her throat, not squeezing, just holding her in place.
"That's not happening." My voice has dropped to a dangerous whisper.
Her eyes widen slightly, but there's no fear in them. Just that same stubborn defiance, mixed with something else. Heat.
"You can't stop me," she breathes.
My thumb traces the line of her jaw before grabbing the back of her neck. "Watch me."
We're locked in a silent battle of wills, neither of us willing to back down. I can feel her pulse jumping beneathmy fingers, see the slight dilation of her pupils. She's pushing me deliberately, testing my limits.
Who am I kidding? If she's anything like the woman I've seen so far, every moment around her is going to be a battle of wills.
And I fucking need to come out the winner here.
eleven
Alina
Ghost releases my throat, and I set my coffee cup down, the ceramic meeting granite with a soft click. The air feels thick as I gather my courage. Ghost's ice-blue gaze locks onto me, his face giving nothing away.
No way I'm letting him see that he intimidates me."I need to tell you about—"
"Jenny Martinez," he cuts in, his deep voice matter-of-fact. "Rookie reporter you were mentoring atThe Bay Herald.She was digging into high-end escort rings before they found her dead in her car trunk near Hunter's Point."
My jaw drops.How the fuck does he know all this?
"The police ruled it a carjacking," he continues, watching me closely. "But you never bought that story. Not with her missing laptop and swept apartment."
Blood pounds in my ears as anger floods through me. He's been investigating me. All this time, he's known exactly who I am.That'swhy he's been calling me by my name, even though I never introduced myself.
"You son of a bitch," I spit out. "You've been digging into my life?"
Something like amusement flickers across his face, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"That's rich coming from the woman who broke into a warehouse, then tried to search my safehouse last night." His voice carries the barest hint of mockery. "Professional curiosity goes both ways, little hellcat."
