Page 53 of Savage Assassin

“It could have been worse,” he tells me, shrugging. “And no, Elena, I’m not going to describe to you what I mean by that. Some things a man really doesn’t want to relive. But I screwed up that job, and there was a price to pay for that. Better than the bullet through the head Valeria wanted to give me.”

“That was her name? Valeria?”

Levin nods. “Nicknamed the Widow Maker. Best sniper in–well, I’m not sure I’ve met a better one, actually. And not a woman you want to be on any side of. If you’re on her good side, she’ll use you for something. If you’re on her bad side–you’ll be dead before you probably even know it.”

“She sounds like an interesting person.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Levin chuckles. “There’s plenty of stories like that, though. Not quite as close of a call, but still closer than I would have liked. There’s always someone who wants a man who was in the line of work I was in dead. Probably a few left still–especially after getting tangled up with Diego like this.”

“I’m sorry.” I look at him, feeling suddenly guilty. “I didn’t mean–”

“I’m not saying this is your fault,” Levin says firmly. “It’s not, Elena. I took the job. I’m just saying–the cartels aren’t something to fuck with, and I’ve done a decent bit of that since I got here. I’m sure the list of enemies I have is likely a bit longer now, that’s all.” He glances ruefully toward me. “Not that that’s going to matter, if we don’t get off this beach.”

The silence hangs heavily between us for a long moment, the reality of what’s happening slowly sinking in.We really might die.It rolls around in my head, over and over, until I can feel a slight, shivery panic starting to run through my blood.

I don’t want to feel like that. I don’t want to spend my last days having a panic attack on a beach in the middle of nowhere. I don’t want to spend it terrified and shaking and crying until the inevitable finally catches up with us. And I can only think of one thing to do about that in the moment.

I stand up suddenly, tipping the tray of food into the sand as I reach for the hem of my shirt, stripping it off over my head. It’s not in the best shape–torn in a couple of spots from the crash, the side of it stiff from dried blood, and I toss it onto the sand, reaching for the button of my jeans.

“What are you doing, Elena?” Levin’s voice turns gruff, and he stands up slowly, dusting sand off his thighs.

“Well, since we’re probably going to die anyway, we should probably enjoy our forced beach vacation, don’t you think?” I shove my jeans down my hips, kicking them off into the sand next to my shirt. “I’ve neverbeenon a beach vacation. No time like the present, right?”

“Elena!” Levin says my name sharply as I unhook my bra, tossing it defiantly onto the growing pile of my clothes. I see his jaw tense as he struggles not to look down, to keep his eyes on my face, and I hook my thumbs in the side of my panties, shoving them down my hips, too, until I’m completely bare under the sun.

“You can look if you want,” I tell him thickly, feeling my heart racing in my chest. There’s a wild, daring feeling fizzing in my veins, a feeling that nothing matters now that we’re potentially so close to the end. I’d never been the kind of girl who stripped naked in front of a man, who went skinny dipping in broad daylight, who did anything other than what she was told to do–but why not start now? I might never get the chance to start again.

The muscle in Levin’s jaw leaps again, and I can see the struggle on his face. I can see that hewantsto look, no matter how hard he’s trying not to.

“You can dowhateveryou want,” I say slowly, backing away from the pile of my clothes, towards the edge of the water. “But I’m going to go swimming. You should come with me. What else are we going to do?”

Levin’s mouth opens, but before he can say anything, I turn away from him. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk, and then start to run, down the beach.

All the way into the chilly, sparkling blue water.

Levin

Iknow better than to do what she wants me to.

Nothing good will come from being that close to her, not even clothed, anddefinitelynot while she’s naked. It had taken everything in me to keep my eyes on her face when she’d started stripping off her clothes all the way down to her skin. When she’d turned and run down the beach, I hadn’t been able to stop myself from seeing the perfect, stunning view of Elena Santiago’s ass as she went straight for the water.

I’m hard already, just from her taking her clothes off in front of me. That defiant attitude that she’d had, that insistence on finding some measure of enjoyment in all of this, not to mention the fact that I know this isexactlythe reaction she wants from me, all add up to a painful erection once again testing the limits of the zipper holding my jeans together. And if I strip down to my underwear and go into the water with her–

I know better than to test my limits like that.

And yet I find myself following her down the beach.

“Elena!” I call after her, but she ignores me, running straight to the edge of the water and then into it. “Elena, be careful–”

“Of what?” she yells back, turning to face me as she backs into the water. She gives me a full, achingly gorgeous view of her bare breasts and everything below them, tan and perfect under the bright sun. “Having some fun?”

I open my mouth to tell her to come back, that she’s being naive and foolish, that this is a serious situation–but I can’t seem to force any of the words out. I’m not sure that I’ve ever known anyone so capable of being optimistic in the face of this much danger, and her positivity is infectious. I can feel it getting under my skin, making me want to give in to what she wants.

A little bit of it, at least.

What would it hurt?I ask myself as I follow her down the beach.What am I going to change, by making her get out of the water and just sit on that beach? What does going for a swim hurt? It’s not as if I’m going to fix the fucking radio.

For her sake, I’d tried to make it sound as if there were a possibility. I’m not going to fix the fucking radio, and I know it. Our chances are so slim that they’re not worth speaking about, and I don’t want to tell Elena that, not so plainly. I’d been as honest with her as I could stomach.

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