Page 46 of Scarlet Mark
I caught her chin again, lifting her gaze to mine. “If I ever do something to you that you don’t like, you will tell me.”
“Like tagging me with a bracelet that can explode?” she asked, cocking a brow.
A snort tickled my throat. “I did that for the mission.”
“Yes, I know.” She covered my hand with her own, her fingers delicate over mine. “You’ve not done anything to hurt me. I’m fine.”
“I fired a gun at you.”
“And I shot you full of ketamine.” She shrugged. “I’m not fragile, Killian. I don’t break easily.” She actually sounded offended that I might think otherwise, which brought me to my knees before her.
“I don’t think you’re weak at all, Amara. What I’m saying is, if I try to push you too far, I need you to tell me. Because I’m not used to asking. I take. Consent is usually implied. But your situation makes that, well, different.” I used the word intentionally, something she noted, because her nostrils flared and her gaze narrowed.
“I meant that I’m attracted to you, jackass. Stop overthinking it, or you’ll ruin our dynamic and I won’t be attracted to you anymore.”
My eyebrows lifted. “Is that a threat?”
“Yes. It is.” The look she gave me set my blood on fire—all challenge and heat and sexy as fuck. This woman allured me in a way no one else ever had.
A warrior.
An equal.
My kind of lover.
“Threat acknowledged and accepted.” I brushed my nose against hers, our mouths a hairsbreadth apart. “Now, while you work, I’m going to take a shower and daydream about how hot your pretty little cunt will feel around my cock when I eventually fuck you. Because, darling Amara, it’s going to happen. And soon. But I need that list from you first.”
Her mouth parted beneath mine, giving me the opportunity I craved. My tongue slid inside with ease, possessing her in the way I intended to possess her body, demonstrating my intentions with each thrust and stroke until I left her panting against me.
“Mmm, and you’re going to enjoy it, too,” I whispered, the words a promise and a vow. “Have fun working, kitten.”
Amara
This is not going to end well.Killian seemed to feel otherwise as he entered the international customs area, his suit jacket concealing the knives I knew he carried beneath. He shook hands with one of the agents, handing him paperwork of some kind, then gestured to me and said something in fluent Arabic.
How many languages does this man know?I filed the question away for later, nervous as hell inside Cario’s airport.
“Shukraan,” Killian said, bowing slightly to the heavyset male holding our fake passports. The border agent replied with a few words I didn’t understand, sending us on our way.
Killian nodded, accepting the passports and his document while saying “Shukraan” again. He tucked the items into his briefcase, then held out his hand for mine. I accepted, following his lead.
We’d spent a week in that hotel room together, where we went over every minute detail of my life with Malcom, reviewed several plans, and monitored our targets from his tablet. The woman who had hooked Killian up with the backdoor access to all the government surveillance systems deserved a medal.
Because damn, was it helpful. And it put me at ease being able to pull up Malcom’s whereabouts with a few clicks. Killian had showed me that little detail our second day together in the hotel, his way of assuring me that my former fiancé was nowhere near us. I’d worried he might find me with us being so close to the original pickup point, but Killian said that was all part of his plan. Malcom would expect us to run. And so we didn’t.
Killian led us down a hallway separate from the other customs lines, a guard at our back. I feigned an ease I didn’t feel at his side, pretending this was all expected and not at all terrifying.
Especially as I had two daggers tucked into the black boots beneath my floor-length dress. As we’d taken a private jet from Berlin, there hadn’t been any sort of security for us when boarding. And it appeared we weren’t going to have any here, either.
Doors with a view of the outside loomed ahead, two more soldier types standing guard on either side. The male behind us said something that earned him a solitary nod. A warm breeze hit my face as the glass shifted, revealing a waiting car just outside.
This one was a less conspicuous black sedan. Killian accepted the keys from the man waiting for us beside the trunk and put my small bag inside, followed by his briefcase. He hadn’t bothered with a carry-on apart from that. I’d crammed my bag full of stuff from my backpack and the clothing he’d procured for me in Berlin. The hotel’s laundry service had been useful, even if Killian remarked about it being unnecessary. Apparently, he’d ordered another wardrobe for our stay here.
I supposed a man of his profession required these things, constantly moving around and tracking new targets.
He uttered a few words in Arabic before opening my door and gesturing for me to enter. I slid over the leather interior, folding my dress around my legs, and sighed as the air-conditioning ruffled my hair.
No incidents. We’re fine. I’m fine. This is all fine.
