Page 33 of Scarlet Mark
“Fine, yourbrother’shotel. Can you help me or not?” He smiled at whatever the other man said in reply. “I’ll text you the info.”
He continued listening, his dimples appearing.
“You’re a real dick, Mershano.” He laughed then, shaking his head. “Yeah, consider it a date. Cheers.”
He hung up the phone with another chuckle before typing out a message to his friend.
“Mershano?” I repeated softly, eyeing the giantMinsignia engraved into the middle of the lobby floor. “Mershano Suites.” I’d never stayed at one, but I knew of them.
“Yeah.” He glanced at his phone, reading some sort of response. “Wyatt’s a friend.”
“That’s the rebellious one, right?” I asked, somewhat familiar with the family, not because of the circuit I belonged to, but just because of the fame of their names. They owned one of the finest lines of luxury hotels in the world. “Isn’t the older one about to get married? After a reality show or something?”
Killian actually looked surprised. “You follow that shit?”
“Yes. I was trained to.” A requirement of my upbringing and status.
His smirk died. “We’re going to discuss that at length.”
I shrugged. That part of my history I could divulge. It was the details about Malcom that I didn’t want to elaborate on. Ever.
His phone buzzed again, causing his lips to curl as he typed out a reply. “Room’s ready.” He cocked his head toward the desk, indicating he wanted me to follow him.
I did because I had nowhere else to go.
I also had no way of knowing if this damn cuff on my wrist still worked or not. He’d thrown the remote to Boris right before all the chaos. And from what I gathered, the thing blew up in Boris’s hand.
My lips twitched. It’d been a clever play. If only I could have pulled that final trigger. That had to be therapeutic in a way—to end the lives of those who tormented me.
Like Clarissa.
And Geoff, although he never touched me. He just oversaw my training.
And Malcom.
My teeth clenched, my need for vengeance strong.
Yet Killian wasn’t on my list at all. I didn’t want to hurt him. Not in the way I did the others, anyway. He’d kidnapped me, pulled a knife on me twice now, and forced me to follow him like a pet. I should hate him.
But I didn’t. Not even close.
The conundrum gave me a headache, causing me to massage my temples while he spoke to the receptionist and gave her a name ofCav Dagger. When he handed her a passport from his jacket, I stopped listening.
This man operated in an entirely different league.
He thanked the woman as she handed him a set of keys, then gestured for me to lead the way to the elevator bank across the marble-floored lobby.
Fine. I’d give him a sight to watch, swaying my hips as I sauntered ahead of him. A dress would have been better, but his resulting chuckle told me the jeans worked just fine.
“Playing the role of seductress, kitten?” he asked, using the key to select the floor he wanted.
The doors closed around us, leaving me alone with the lethal man who had just taken down twenty-plus men without getting a shred of evidence on him.
I tilted my head back to admire his amused features. “I thought you wanted to eat something.”
“Oh, I do.” He allowed his focus to shift downward, trailing slowly over every inch of my body, the innuendo clear. “We’ll be ordering room service.”
“And then?” I prompted.
