Page 12 of Over the Edge

A flicker of vulnerability crossed her face, there and gone so fast I almost thought I imagined it. She turned away, grabbed another mini bottle of vodka, and poured a splash into a glass with juice. When she turned back, her icy shields were back in place, like they had never cracked.

“You don’t know me.”

No. I didn’t.

But I wanted to.

And that was a problem.

I should’ve walked away. Should’ve booked a flight out of there and let this be Ethan’s problem.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I prowled closer and leaned in like I was going to kiss her. Her eyes flared with undeniable interest, even as she tried to smother it.

Trouble.

This woman was absolute trouble.

And damn if I didn’t already want to see how much.

I smiled. “No, I don’t. Not yet.”

“Not ever.” She took a long, slow drink of her cocktail, then set the glass down with a decisive click and got in my face. I smelled the vodka and juice and that delectable perfume of hers. Up close, I could see the faint freckles dusting her nose, the slight smudge of mascara beneath her left eye. She was even more stunning at this distance, and my cock stirred to life with an interested twitch.

Down, boy. Worst possible time for optimism.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said, each word a precise knife cut. “We are not partners. We are not friends. I didn’t ask for you. I don’t need you. And if you get in my way?—”

“Let me guess, you’ll kill me?”

“You don’t matter enough to waste the bullet.” She picked up her glass again and carried it toward the suite’s bedroom. “Get out. Moreau may think you’re my bodyguard, but that’s just for show. I don’t need you up my ass all night.”

With that, she shut the double doors in my face.

Firmly.

“Oh, Siren,” I called, just loud enough for her to hear. “If I were up your ass, you’d know it.”

Silence.

Then a sharp intake of breath. A muttered curse.

Followed by the snick of the lock.

I laughed.

Yeah. I was definitely going to enjoy this.

CHAPTER4

LYRIC

I hadn’t slept.Not really. I’d closed my eyes, tried to drift off, but every time I did, my brain replayed the night in excruciating detail. Flynn crashing my mission. Flynn smirking like he owned the damn world. Flynn calling me princess with that teasing light in his amber eyes.

And, worst of all, Flynn starring in a dream that left me waking up hot, flustered, and even more pissed off than before.

Ugh.

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