Page 34 of Tabitha

As much as I want to disagree, the proof is impossible to deny. “Why didn’t he just run?”

“Maybe he’s just as stubborn as you?” Pierce’s voice is amused, and he shoots me a look over his shoulder as he studies the computer table. “Or maybe he didn’t want to abandon his people?”

But that doesn’t feel right, either, and I shake my head. “No, that’s not right.”

Pierce looks up at me from under his brows, his expression softening. “If he’s anything like you, he probably thought he could take out the threat himself.”

“And it got him killed.” I glance around the room, feeling a pang of disappointment that I never got a chance to meet the old man.

He seemed like a right asshole, but I can’t help but be curious about him.

“My guess is he knew his days were numbered. He left you in his will to draw you here.” Pierce purses his lips, like the idea leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

“Are you upset?” I tilt my head and look at him, the novel idea that he might be worried about me sending a rush of heat to my cheeks.

I normally don’t notice such things, but I’ve been studying Pierce for weeks. I’m familiar with every nuance of his face.

Pierce glances at me, staring at me for so long that I barely resist the urge to poke him and make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep or something.

He looks away and taps the computer table. “If what I suspect is correct, he knows all about you. He wanted you here to finish what he couldn’t—catch the people who killed him and who endanger his organization.”

My heart sinks in disappointment, which is stupid. Of course Buford would want me for what I can do. If he’d wanted anything else, he would’ve contacted me sooner.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I’m startled when Pierce cups my face. I try to jerk back, uncomfortable under his regard, but his hand slips behind my neck, easily keeping me locked in place. I wait for panic to take over, wait for my natural instinct to kill anything that touches me before it can hurt me.

My stomach lurches at the idea of accidentally harming Pierce.

But the panic never comes.

Instead, a strange warmth fills me at his nearness, and my breath halts in my lungs when he forces my head up to meet his gaze. “You can’t know that. Maybe he was trying to protect you.”

“By leaving me to be raised by assassins?” Doubt tinges the question, and I no longer bother to pretend I’m anything else. I can’t be watching his back and my own on this mission. It’s a liability that will get us both killed. While I’m willing to gamble with my life, I won’t gamble with his future.

If anyone is going to kill him, it will be me.

Chapter Eleven

TABITHA

Istudy Pierce’s face, bracing for his reaction.

And he doesn’t even blink at the revelation.

He knew.

I tense, my heart rattling against my ribs, and I wonder if I made an error trusting him. I reach back, palming the knife between my shoulder blades, feeling sick to my stomach as I slowly draw out the blade.

Before I can pull the weapon free, Pierce lunges toward me. He grabs my wrist, then bends me backwards until I’m pinned to the table, held immobile in his grip. He forces his hips between my legs, not allowing my feet any purchase on the floor, leaving me with no leverage to break free.

I tense against the need to struggle, afraid to move, strangely worried I might hurt him.

“Tabitha, I’m not an idiot. I knew the Belladonnas were assassins from the start.” He leans down, the weight of his body keeping me from squirming, and he gently presses his forehead against mine. “I left the police force for a reason. I’m not a spy. I told Man everything in my interview. He agreed I would be a good fit for the mansion. I’m not a threat to you or the others. Man wouldn’t have allowed me anywhere near you or the others, otherwise.”

I can’t make any sense of his words at first, his icy blue eyes too much for my befuddled brain to process all the implications. The frosty look should chill me to the bone, but my body burns at the intensity in his eyes. The fresh evergreen Christmas scent that lingers on his skin is like an invitation to burrow closer. His sexy five o’clock shadow gives him a rugged look that keeps him from looking too pretty.

“But you’re a cop.” I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind, unable to make sense of anything. “You’re supposed to be against evil. Bring justice to the lawless. Keep the public safe from wrongdoers.”

“Like you, baby girl?” A cocky smirk curls his lips, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

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