Page 15 of A Worthy Opponent
“You know I have your back.”
Yeah, I do. Which is why I have to take care of this now. Nigel isn’t one for divided loyalties. Doubting me will eat him up inside until he does something noble but ill advised. I lean forward. “I didn’t haul her here over my shoulder and hold a gun to her head while she said her vows. She showed up. She took the bargain. She married me. That’s the only truth that matters. We have bigger problems right now than Tink’s pride.”
For a second, it looks like he might argue, but he finally jerks his chin down in a movement that’s almost a nod. It’s enough. I push to my feet. “I’m taking her to the Underworld tonight to go public with the marriage. Tomorrow, she integrates with the rest of the household. While everyone isfocused on her, you keep sniffing for the traitors who are hiding Peter. If we find them first, Tink won’t have to play a role.”
This time, Nigel’s nod was stronger. “We still don’t know there are people hiding Peter.”
“Yes, we do.” Our last three gun shipments into Carver City had been stolen, and every person of mine onboard killed. I knew Peter was behind it, but that slippery bastard is never where I expect him to be. Every time I go on the attack, he disappears into thin air. He’s making a fool of me, and I’ll be damned before I let it continue.
So I’ll makehimcome tome.
With Tink in my house, in my bed, he won’t be able to stop himself for long. And when he does, I’ll do exactly what I promised and give Tink his head on a platter. In the meantime, I’ll put on a show destined to get his attention.
“Double the escort to Hades’s territory, but do it subtly. I don’t want to deal with an attack, but we can’t look like we’re scared.”
We get down to planning out the details and then go over accounts for the last month. Business is good, but not good enough to take the hit of another lost shipment. Only my paranoia ensured we had enough weaponry stocked to fulfill our orders. All gone now. If Peter gets to the next shipment, we’ll be royally fucked.
A week. I have a week to figure it out. A fucking blip of existence and a small eternity, all rolled into one.
An hour later, we sit back. I’m not satisfied, not by a long shot, but I won’t be satisfied until I send that bastard to hell. I push to my feet and stretch. A quick glance at my watch confirms that I barely have enough time to change and get ready before we need to leave. “I better check on the missus.”
Nigel makes a choked sound. “Be sure to call her thatsometime when I’m around to witness the resulting bloodbath.”
“I might just do it.” Tink is especially beautiful—and dangerous—when she gets riled. Since she lost that haunted look in her eyes at the Underworld, I’ve enjoyed poking her every chance I was afforded. Now I can do it whenever I want.
I take the elevator up to my suite, but the second I step out of the doors, I freeze. “What the hell?”
“Honey, you’re home.” Her smug voice comes from the bathroom, but I only have eyes for my closet.
It’s unrecognizable. All my shit is gone. I walk to the nearest wardrobe and touch an empty hanger. “Where are my clothes?”
“Hmmm?”
Her innocent act is ruined by how delighted she sounds. I stalk into the bathroom and stop short. Tink has her hair done up in big pink curlers, and she’s expertly applying red lipstick to her full lips. She’s done something to her face to amplify her beauty and, holy fuck, she’s pulled out all the stops for her clothing.
Her dress is short and white, hugging her big ass lovingly and giving me a whole lot of thigh to check out. Then she turns around, and my gaze snags on her tits. “Fuck.”
“What’s that,husband?” She starts to take out her curlers, leaving her long blond hair to fall around her face in waves I want to dig my hands into.
It takes more effort than it should to circle around to the problem. “My clothes.”
“Oh, that.” She neatly places the pink curlers back into their container, one by one. “I sent them out for dry cleaning.”
“Dry cleaning,” I repeat.
“That’s what I said.” She blinks big green eyes at me, allfeigned innocence. “I assumed theymustbe dirty, being as how they were all on the floor.” She presses a hand to her chest. “After all, I’m just your little wife, right? That’s what you wanted when you left me up here to cool my heels.”
Oh, she is downright fuckingwicked.
“I ought to put you over my knee for that bullshit.”
She smiles sweetly. “We both know I’d enjoy that too much for it to serve as a deterrent. Give it up, Hook. I win this round.”
I might laugh if I didn’t want to kiss her so desperately. “What, pray tell, am I supposed to wear tonight since apparently every item I own is at the dry cleaner?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find something.” She waves that away and turns back to the mirror. I notice that the counter is covered with her shit now. Tubes and canisters and eyeshadow in every color imaginable. I kind of like it.
I leave her to it and return to the main room to search for something that might have escaped her purge. She was remarkably thorough, and she also seems to have claimed the nearest wardrobe as her own. Her clothing hangs in neat color-coded rows. I’m mildly impressed at the sheer amount of shit she had packed in that pink suitcase. I pull open a drawer and find a rainbow of lingerie. Some of it I recognize. Others are new to me, and I shut the drawer again before I can examine my reaction to that too closely.
