Page 10 of Arrogant Bastard

That he’s not even attempting to deny it pisses me off. “Don’t…fucking do that.”

“Agree with you? Why not? It’s true.”

I grit my teeth, only it feels like I’m gnashing a row of marshmallows. Whatever he gave me is taking its sweet time to wear off. It’s keeping my physical responses slow but keeping my brain sharp. “What…did you give me?”

“There’s no official name for it yet. We can come up with a name together when you’re better if you want.”

I ignore that simply because my mouth is too dry to waste my time on unnecessary conversation. Besides, I don’t intend to stick around long enough to do anything Killian Knight suggests in that hypnotic voice of his.

I take a deep breath, curbing the urge to scream. Will I even manage to scream? “How long…have I been…out?” I ask.

“A little under three hours. You’re probably thirsty. I’m sorry but I can’t give you any water just yet. I’ve spent too long looking for you to have you choke on me now. The drug’s effects will wear off in about ten minutes. I have a glass of water waiting right here next to me. Or I can get the champagne chilling in the kitchen if you prefer. We can celebrate however you want,” he offers magnanimously.

You’re insane, I want to say. I want to call him a dozen different derogatory names. Challenge his state of mind. But they would all be true. I know because we have that in common. No, we had that in common. Back when the thrill of an op was a high, that came second only to the fact that I was chasing it with Killian. And every success drew us deeper into our own dark vortex of obsessional sex and guilt-fueled destruction that eventually broke us.

The Bonnie and Clyde of the espionage world, one team member labeled us. And he wasn’t far off. The only thing is that we haven’t perished in a blaze of glory. Yet. But we stroked that edge too many times for fate not to have one eye on payback where we’re concerned. It’s already taken a giant chunk of my heart. I’m almost amused by how very little else there is to take.

Almost. Because I know better than to issue fate that challenge.

“Why?” I ask instead because it’s the only question that might get me some answers.

“I told you in the park. You belong to me. Now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you go.”

This time I feel the shiver a little more. More snippets coalesce into solid memories. I attempt to shake my head, but it barely moves a fraction. “No. There’s…more.”

There has to be. The Killian I knew was ruthless when he needed to be. It’s a prerequisite of the nature of being a spy. In that world, there was no black or white, only an endless, all-encompassing gray. But unless something’s gone very wrong, I know he would never turn the darker side of his considerable skills on me.

But then we haven’t seen each other in four years. I ran from him without saying goodbye, suspecting he would come after me. Maybe I was too good at hiding. Maybe what happened in Cairo affected him almost as much as it did me.

I have no doubt I’ll find out soon enough, so I push those particular memories to one side and attempt to read the tone of the silence.

“You’re right, there’s more. But we have time for that.”

My heart lurches. “I want…to know. Now.”

“And I want to know why you left me,” he replies, that hard edge back in his tone.

“You know why. It…we should never have happened.”

He laughs, a deep sound filled with bitterness that’s nevertheless the sexiest thing I’ve heard in a long time. I’m flat on my back, as helpless as a goddamn baby lamb; the sound attacks my sensitive, needy parts with merciless disregard for my well-being. My nipples tighten and peak. Heat rushes between my legs and gleefully strokes my clit.

“You say that as if you have a choice as to whether the sun rises in the morning or not. Do you really want to waste time on that nonsense?”

“It’s…my life wasn’t…nonsense.”

“I’m not talking about your life before we met. I’m talking about what came after you left that excuse for an existence you were living. Wishing we didn’t happen is useless bullshit. I was yours the moment you looked at me. And you were ready and willing to take me. It’s a waste of time to feel guilt about any of it now.”

“Don’t tell me what to feel.” Yeah, that’s a really powerful comeback.

He sighs after a minute. I hear him move somewhere behind me. He’s probably sitting forward, propping his elbows on his knees like he does when he’s about to tackle a problem with his scarily sharp intellect. I’m almost afraid of what’s coming. But I’m tired of being afraid of every little thing. And yes, I’m also tired of the guilt. If only I could shed it as easily as Killian seems to have shed his.

He was already halfway to dropping that particular set of baggage when I left him four years ago. It was partly why my resentment toward him reached unbearable proportions. He managed to put our iniquities behind him far too easily, whereas I was stuck with the seeds of my sins growing inside me like a living thing.

“After all this time, you still want me. I know you do. Until that belief goes away, nothing is going to stop me from coming after you and keeping you if you manage to get away from me again.”

“You’re…wrong. I don’t want you,” I lie. “I haven’t wanted you for over four years. Let me go, leave New York, and I’ll happily spend another four years proving how I haven’t spent a minute thinking about you.”

He doesn’t respond for a handful of seconds, but he exhales heavily. “That’s going to happen over my dead body.” It’s a low-voiced, lethal vow that resonates deep in my belly.

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