Page 27 of The Vigilante's Lover
I pull out the first knot in the ropes binding her to the bed. She drops the scared expression and stretches her arm. Her sigh of contentment goes straight to my gut.
I feel that hitch, that pull of desire. I quash it with a quick spike of anger.
“Do not think for an instant that I will hesitate to do what it takes to keep you in line,” I say. I tug on the rope for emphasis.
“Hey!” she says with a glare. She shifts on the bed and the sheet slips down to reveal the fiery lace negligee. It cups her breasts, pushing them into an impossibly deep cleavage, then falls in a sheer swath of red to where she is hidden again by the covers.
Is she playing with me? I trust her even less than I did a moment ago. Still, my body’s reaction is swift. I want her. I have to clamp down on my jaw to resist the urge to press her down on the bed and end this charade right now.
“Up,” I say.
She jerks against the rope. “How?” A flash of anger makes her face even more beautiful.
“Fine.” I untie everything except the binds around each of her wrists.
“Hand me that dress,” she says. “And the bra.”
I intend to make another searing remark. But instead, I turn to the red sweater dress draped over the side chair. Next to it, a small box holds a matching bra.
I pass her the clothing, and she pulls it beneath the covers and disappears under a bulge of blanket.
After a moment, the red negligee flies through the air. It hits the beige carpet like a bloodstain.
I lean against the wall, my anger dissipating. I’ve never seen a woman act like this. Temptress, then shy girl. It’s entertaining, at least.
Mia slides from the covers fully dressed, but the sweater hugs her curves in all the best places as she moves toward the bathroom.
She insists on closing the door, pointing to the device on her neck. I nod. It doesn’t matter. There’s no way a half-trained Phase One can escape me, and I’m done playing games about it. There is no window in the bathroom. If she exited either door, I could drop her unconscious in seconds.
I head to the main room and pull out the Vigilante tech kit Sam gave me. I pick up my watch and check the band. With just the right motion, two short, sharp prongs slip out. The tips glisten with contact poison. Handy.
The bathroom door opens and Mia emerges, looking rather resplendent despite her disheveled hair. The dress gives with every motion and seems to ripple over her body. She moves with an inborn grace.
Mia holds out her arms where the long trail of ropes are looped around her delicate wrists. “Ready to lead me out of here like a slave girl?”
I approach and her surprise is palpable as I untie her wrists and free her fully from her binding.
“Why didn’t you do that earlier?” she asks as she rubs the marks on her skin. “Would have made things easier.” She glances back into the bathroom.
I chuckle. “It would have, yes. But where’s the fun in that?”
“You’re an ass,” she says.
For a moment, camaraderie courses between us, like we’re on the same team.
But we’re not. I can’t forget that. Not for an instant.
“We will be walking out of here together.” I let my voice go cold. “Remember that I can sedate you at any time, so I suggest you behave yourself. A woman fainting won’t raise an eyebrow from the staff.”
She frowns, the easy teasing gone. It’s best that we both remember our place in this scheme.
“I need my shoes,” she says.
I wave in the direction of the bedroom. Mia heads there, looking confused and torn. I have an urge to touch her, give her some sort of comfort. Damn, this girl is vexing.
I’m starting to sense that maybe she had juvenile training early on and this faltering temptress trick is something new. Still, shoddy work. I feel increasingly certain that she’s part of Jovana’s brood, and not true Vigilante. The program is unsurpassed in matching a trainee with his or her natural gifts, and they would never place a half-prepared Vigilante in a safe house.
Mia comes back, teetering unsteadily on stiletto heels. “This is a new look for me,” she says.
