Page 115 of Taming Seraphine

“What are you waiting for?” I say to Seraphine. “Get dressed, and let’s go.”

“Miko said it burned down in a fire, and the building is still being rebuilt.”

“Shit.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and turn my attention back to Miko. “Any leads on the second surgery?”

“Still working on it.” He raises a shoulder. “I’ve set a macro to search for the fake dates of birth across all hospitals in the United States. It’s only a matter of time before we find them.”

I nod. “Great work.”

Miko rises off his seat, and Seraphine tries to hand him the tablet.

“Keep it,” he says, his cheeks darkening.

“Thank you.” She lowers her lashes and smiles.

Miko takes one last look at her body before turning toward the door. I can’t even blame him—Seraphine is both beautiful and age-appropriate. To a nineteen-year-old virgin, she’s the sophisticated older woman next door.

Seraphine would devour poor Miko and leave him in pieces.

I wait in silence until he leaves. As soon as the door swings shut, I advance on Seraphine and yank her up by the arm.

“Not a word.” I march her out through the balcony and up the iron steps that lead to the roof terrace.

Traffic rumbles from below, the sound muffled by the fury pounding through my veins. Beaumont city stretches out beyond the railings, its skyscrapers bathed in morning light. I release my grip on her arm and glare down into Seraphine’s blank features.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I hiss.

Her eyes widen with false surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Miko is off-limits,” I snarl. “He’s a good kid, and I won’t have you leading him on.”

She tilts her head and gazes up at me through her thick, blonde lashes. “I wasn’t?—”

“Cut the bullshit,” I snarl. “If you’re pissed about this morning, take it up with me. Don’t drag Miko into this. He’s too young for your games.”

Seraphine’s nostrils flare. When her lips part with a denial, I close the distance between us and wrap a hand around her throat.

Her eyes widen, and she gasps, her chest heaving. Her nipples protrude through the fabric of her borrowed shirt, even though it’s a warm morning.

A flush blooms across her cheeks, and her pupils dilate. As her pulse races beneath my fingers, my blood heats with desire. Damn this woman. Even when she’s getting on my nerves, she still manages to make me feral.

“Stop acting like a jealous boyfriend,” she says. “It was just a conversation.”

My fingers tighten around her throat, eliciting a whimper. I lean in close and press my lips to her ear. “You’ve spent five years luring men to their deaths. Five years of knowing what to say and how to position yourself to attract their attention. Miko is a child. He doesn’t deserve your manipulation.”

She jerks back, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits, and her pretty features tighten with undisguised hatred. She’s probably imagining a thousand ways of orchestrating my demise—I already saw some of her drawings. The little devil made sure to label her victim, so there was no mistake that she fantasizes about my mutilation.

“You don’t want me,” she says, her voice breathy. “You don’t want me to have Miko. What do you want?”

An excellent question.

I want Seraphine writhing beneath me, her gorgeous face twisted in a medley of pleasure and pain. I want her screams in my ears, her skin marked with my touch and erasing the memories of all those bastards in her past. I want her mind, her body, her soul.

The thought comes unbidden and unwelcome. I force it back, but the effort is futile. Seraphine is still there, pressed against me, with her heart pounding and her gaze searing into mine.

I’ve never felt this level of desire for a woman. She’s innocent yet devious, vulnerable yet strong. It’s an intoxicating combination that makes me forget my own rules.

“What do I want?” I snarl.

---