Page 16 of Queen of Blades

“You son of a bitch.”

“What?” he asked incredulously as he sat up swiftly. The blankets pooled at his waist, covering him.

“What was your plan?” Anger unfurled in her chest, heated her cheeks, and had her curling her fingers into fists. “Fuck me and then shoot me while I slept?”

Did he even have a gun? Of course he did. Men like him didn’t go anywhere without one. Though she couldn’t remember. They’d gotten undressed so quickly before, it’d been a blur.

“No.” He shook his head. “Only a coward would do that.”

“How were you going to do it?” she sneered down her nose at him.

He looked away and pulled up his knees. Resting his forearms on them, he let his hands dangle.

How dare he not have the decency to answer her? As her fury boiled, another question popped into her brain.

“Paul. Who hired you?”

He wouldn’t look at her. Talk about cowardice.

The silence hung between them for far too long. He couldn’t just nonchalantly tell her he’d been hired to kill her without an explanation. She couldn’t stand still. She shifted her weight, chewed on the inside of her cheek, and kept her steely gaze on the beautiful man who could strum her body like a finely tuned guitar. Who was hired to murder her.

This was so fucking messed up. Even for her.

She and Paul weren’t exactly friends from back in the day who had lost touch. They’d been casual fuck buddies at best. It ended in an explosion and made things tense between the Roughneck Riders and his syndicate.

They’d been young then, and stupid, but things had settled. It couldn’t be because of that. Twelve years had passed. She’d been back to Oklahoma tons of times since then. Sure, not so much recently, but if his little Southern Mafia syndicate still had a problem with her, they would’ve handled it then. Why now?

“How could you take this job?” The betrayal hurt the most. The rage storm grew inside Harper. “Answer me,” she thundered.

He snapped back, jumped out of the bed, and stomped toward her.

Reflexively, she backed away, stumbling slightly when her foot got tangled in the heap of discarded clothes on the floor. When she hit the dresser across from the bed, her breath hitched.

Paul continued until he was inches from her, glaring down at her with the ice of a thousand glaciers in his eyes. He stopped just before his bare chest touched hers. Their faces were mere inches apart.

“Anyone else would’ve defiled you and stripped you of your dignity just to send a message. At least with me, you’ll die with respect,” he whispered.

Where did he find the audacity? Fury bubbled inside her, and she planted her palms on his chest, shoving as hard as she could. It must’ve startled him, because he stepped back as though off-balance. If Paul didn’t want to, she shouldn’t have been able to move him.

Darting to the right, Harper dove to the pile of clothing and dug through it.

Sighing, Paul turned and rolled his eyes. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Where the hell had she left it? Frantically, she scanned the room.Ah! There!Scrambling, she headed to the closet door.

“At least put some clothes on before you try to escape.” The smugness in his voice irritated Harper.

Quickly, she unsnapped the small clutch she’d brought with her. Just as she curled her fingers around the handle, he grabbed her arm and yanked her up to her feet.

Perfect. Exactly what she wanted.

Whirling to face him, she locked her elbow and slung the tactical blade with the purple handle, aiming for his neck.

Before it could puncture his jugular, her wrist crashed against steel. His forearm. Pain vibrated through her, but she didn’t drop the blade. Pulling back, determined, she tried again. This time, he grabbed her knife-wielding arm and slammed her against the door.

Her head thunked against the thick metal as he pinned her in place, shoving his knee between her thighs.

“Fuck you,” she seethed, squirming against his grip.

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