Page 46 of Ghost
A long, low breath huffed through the speaker.Mila’s heart skidded to a halt.She locked her wide eyes on Ghost.
His expression was ice cold.Deadly.
***
Ghost reeled.Whatthe actual fuck?He’d killed Hunter Emmett.Shot him in the goddamn head.
How is he alive?
He stood at the kitchen window staring at the shop, where he’d held Mila just hours ago—something he couldn’t imagine doing now.No wonder he’d had such a hard fucking time interrogating her.Instinct had warned him.She wasn’t what she seemed.
A killer, yes.But not an enemy.
He didn’t want to think about how that didn’t make sense.Nothing made sense right now.As soon as he wrapped his head around shit, he’d call Rami and have him find Hunter.
A cool, slim hand on the crook of his arm brought him back to the moment.He turned from the sink and stared down at Mila.Her eyes were small and wary, her stance unsure.He was visibly pissed—no, furious—but that had nothing to do with her.
He caught her elbows and held them so she didn’t drift away.“Thanks for doing that,” he finally managed to say.
She lifted a shoulder.“I held up my end of the deal.”Her gaze drifted over his shoulder to the snowy winter wonderland outside.
A fist lodged itself in his gut.She wanted out of here.Freedom.Away from him.Why that stung, he’d never figure out.“And I’ll hold up mine,” he said.“As soon as we’re in the clear to drive.”
She nodded.Her warm body hovered inches from his, stirring every manly desire he’d ever had.He wanted her.Christ, he wanted her.
A smile played at her lips, so pretty and full.He couldn’t look at her the same way now.No longer did he see a vengeful woman out for blood in exchange for money—a career he’d once lived by.
No, now he saw her soft edges.Her femininity.Her innocence.
And all that she’d been robbed of.
The image Rami had sent him popped up in his mind.The pink dress with yellow butterflies...all he wanted to do was go back in time and save her.
But he couldn’t do a damn thing to protect young Mila—just like he hadn’t been able to protect another little girl.
Mila’s body vibrated so close to his.He wanted to pull her in, to taste her.Because when tomorrow came and the snowstorm went, he’d be left with only a memory of her.
Once she was free of him, she’d run.
Just like she should.
“Well,” she said, her voice holding a singsong note.“We have time to kill.Got any games?”
His shoulders bunched.“What kind of games?”
“I don’t know.Cards?”
“Cards?”
“Yeah, you know, crazy eights, poker, go fish.You’ve never played cards?”
He lifted his gaze to the ceiling, but his mouth tugged up at the same time.“I know what cards are, honey.That’s just not my kinda game.”
She blinked.“What kind of games do you play?”
And damn if her voice didn’t turn sultry.Hell, maybe he was imagining it.His dick was so hard and full he’d surely lost blood volume in his brain.
He dropped his hands from her elbows, but she didn’t back away.She didn’t move closer either.Just stared at him as if she wouldn’t mind if he lost control.
