Page 87 of Mercenary
Jesus, I’m already fucked. I don’t do kisses. Ever.
Her hands are folded primly across her lap. She’s changed into white shorts that expose her long, tan legs. A tight, pink, sleeveless T-shirt with a prissy white collar clings snugly over her ample breasts, naughty yet sweet, like Madelyn herself. Yeah, the combination of fuckable woman and untried, inexperienced girl has my cock harder than my damned intentions. I want to show her things. Teach her about pain and pleasure. Fuck her mercilessly until she’s wild and begging for more.
Damn her.
Careful to keep my face blank and my manner harsh, I drag my eyes up to meet her own unwavering stare.
“Is this your home?”
Yes, I want to answer. My home away from home. “My boss’s.”
“So this is the Ranch,” she murmurs, clearly knowing far more than she should. Her eyebrows form into a V shape like she’s suddenly afraid. Damn it, she should be scared of Hayden. And it’s clear Kylie has been running her mouth. I wonder what else Madelyn’s been told. But instead of returning to my earlier interrogation of her—which went nowhere fast except striking a chord somewhere deep within me where I don’t dare dwell—I reassure her fears.
“He’s away for the week on business. I wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise.”
“I won’t be here long. Because the first opportunity that presents itself, I’m leaving you.”
I shake my head.
“No?”
“Say you’re able to make it off the ranch, how will you find her? And what the fuck do you expect to do if you did?”
“Call the Oklahoma State Police. Or the FBI . . . Homeland Security. Anyone and everyone who might be able to help.”
“No, you won’t. There’s a reason Kylie warned you to keep quiet.”
She leans toward me, so earnest, so certain she’ll find a way to help her traitorous sister. “That was before those mobsters dragged her out of my hotel room. If she were someone you loved, what would you do?”
I glare at the plate, resisting the urge to swipe my arm across the table and send it shattering into tiny fucked-up pieces.
“Declan?”
“Yeah?”
“Help me.”
“Help you by finding Kylie? You’re always putting everyone else before yourself.” I turn and catch the disappointment in her expression.
And it does me in. Fuck. FUCK. I say, my calm tone giving nothing away, “Okay.”
Her eyebrows raise.
“I’ll make you a deal, Madelyn. You obey me and do exactly as I tell you. If I say jump, you hop to your feet. If I say stay the fuck put, you don’t run away, you don’t drug me, you don’t fight me. Whatever I say, you do without question and . . .”
“And you’ll help her.” If there was ever a moment in my life that I wish I were a better man, with a different job, with a different task at hand, it would be now.
“I’ll give Kylie a chance.”
“A chance?” she murmurs, her excitement laced with apprehension.
“At life.”
“You’ll rescue her from—”
I bring my face in close, so close I can feel the warmth of her nervous exhalation. “I mean I’ll terminate every last motherfucking man.”
She jerks her head back as if I punched her.
