Page 9 of Cruel Lust

Either she is genuinely concussed, or she’s overplaying her hand. I’m hoping it’s the former rather than the latter. “Vinny was here. You met him outside. That’s it.”

I use a finger to lift her dark hair and examine her head. “You really did a number on yourself. Maybe we should take you to the hospital and get you checked out,” I offer.

“No,” she blurts out, eyes wide as if she senses danger. She’s not so concussed that she can’t understand how potentially fatal that would be. “No, thank you. I… couldn’t afford it, anyway. You know how it is.” I’ll give it to her. She can still think fast.

Unfortunately, it’s not looking good for me—or her. She’s sexy and intelligent, a lethal combination and a headache if I were to go there, regardless of the way her smooth skin beckons my touch.

“I’d be more than happy to cover it,” I offer in a warm voice, needing to lay it on thick. Be overly caring, almost smothering. Anything to throw her off track.

“No, thank you. Really.”

To think I was imagining her in my bed earlier. That was her plan. Dressing like a slut, coming in here and batting those eyelashes at me. And I was the stupid fuck who fell for it. “As long as you’re sure. Do you want to maybe lie down a little while longer? Make sure you’re all right?” I question, keeping up the façade that I give a shit.

“No. No, I don’t think so,” Emilia dismisses, looking around wildly, her hands sliding over the sofa before she closes one around her bag. “I better go. I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning.”

“You know, they say it’s not safe to sleep if you have a concussion.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Do you have someone at home to take care of you, just in case?” I didn’t count on my enjoyment of her squirming anxiety. Not so tough when she’s on her own, one-on-one with a man she knows is a murderer. This was not the night for her to go out unarmed.

She stiffens her spine while her jaw tightens, and for one exhilarating moment, I know she’s about to drop the act and tell me to fuck off. I almost wish she would, so I could too. Yet she pulls back at the last second and forces a faint smile. “Uh… sure. I will really be fine. Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. I gave you somewhere to rest, that’s all.” I help her stand, running my thumbs over her knuckles and pretending not to notice how cold and sweaty her palms are. “I could have my driver take you home.”

Out of everything I’ve suggested so far, that appeals to her the least. “No! No, really. I’ll be fine.” She withdraws her hands from mine and pulls out her phone. “I’m going to get an Uber.”

Another potential trap. She could’ve ubered here. There would’ve been a record of her arrival. Learning this, I know I made the right decision, letting her live.

“Good idea. I wouldn’t want you driving,” I offer, not realizing I had this level of self-control. Enough that it allows me to run a hand down her arm without snapping it like a twig.

A fucking detective.

This lying bitch.

Her fear radiates from her eyes when they meet mine.

She needs to pay for this. I’m going to find a way to make her pay for fucking with me, if not tonight, then soon. That’s a promise.

“It was a real pleasure meeting you,” I utter in a velvet voice that could temper chocolate. I have to visualize the pleasure of terrorizing Emilia to make my smile seem genuine and my touch gentle when I take her by her shoulders and pull her in. She doesn’t have time to gasp and stiffen before I crush my lips against hers. Sweet, plump, firm. I part them with my tongue and invade her mouth, kissing her with everything I have, relishing the touch of her body to mine when there’s no choice but to melt against me.

This isn’t about anything more than undoing her, fucking with her head, yet my cock didn’t get the memo. It twitches and grows before going stiff when she whimpers helplessly into my mouth.

Her legs are sagging by the time I let her up for air, and her gaze is soft and unfocused when I pull away. “I hope I can see you again soon,” I croon, wiping a bit of smudged lipstick away from the corner of her mouth with my thumb before releasing her.

“I… hope so… too,” she stammers out, then flees the room as though it’s on fire, almost falling against the door before opening it and flinging herself through.

Some brave detective. She has no idea what she’s gotten herself into.

Make no mistake, it’s something I won’t let her forget.

5

EMILIA

When Monday morning comes, it brings a lump in my chest that only gets bigger the closer I get to the station. Craig was out of town all weekend, and having two days without the possibility of running into him was a gift. With the way we left things on Friday night, it was good for us to cool off a little.

And I needed the time to get my head together too, even if I don’t feel like that’s been achieved by the time I walk into the station. Per our usual custom, it’s my turn to grab coffee, so I reach my desk in our shared office, balancing a pair of steaming lattes in a cardboard carrier.

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