Page 38 of Lethal Torture
“Before we begin,” he continues, “we need to get one thing straight.”
Put on a robe, Zinaida.
I might be able to keep the best poker face in the business, but my body has a mind of its own.
And right now, my body is reacting to Luke like a traitorous bitch.
There’s also no fucking way I’m giving him the advantage in whatever game we’re playing here.
Oh, sure, Zinaida. That’s why you’re still naked.
I turn to face him, horribly aware of the pulse jumping between my legs.
The bastard doesn’t even blink.
“Contract or not, I will walk away, effective immediately, unless you understand how this is going to work.” His eyes hold mine, the low, deliciously rough voice so measured it’s almost hypnotic. “From this moment on, the only person with fullaccess to your security and schedule will be me. No secrets, no private access I don’t know about, and no off-limits personnel files.”
No secrets.
Heat, sudden and urgent, licks through me.
Full access.
My mouth goes dry.
Fuck.
“My staff—”
“Your staff need to know I have full access,” he says calmly. “Beyond that, it’s up to you what you tell them.” He doesn’t move. He doesn’t raise his voice, and his eyes don’t leave mine for even a second.
He might as well be reading a shopping list, for all this seems to be affecting him.
There’s no arrogance in his voice. No hint of bravado or any visible effort to exert his dominance.
And yet there’s no mistaking his authority.
Luke delivers his orders with the quiet certainty of someone who knows they will be obeyed, rather than with the aggression of someone who thinks they deserve to be.
I know the difference, the same way I know that if I don’t agree to his conditions, he will walk out of this room as easily as he walked into it. And that if he does, there won’t be any way to get him back.
I don’t want him to walk away.
I also don’t want to think about exactly why that is.
“Is that all?” I’m battling to hold on to the last vestiges of my infamous cool. Every low-voiced command, every second he holds my eyes with quiet authority, turns me to liquid heat between my legs.
Another minute of this and I’ll be on my fucking knees.
That mental image almost undoes me completely.
“No, that isn’t all.” Crossing the distance between us with a speed that is profoundly unsettling, Luke plucks a robe from its hanger and throws it at me.
I inhale sharply.
There are barely inches between us.
“Sex is off the table,” he says flatly. “I don’t sleep with clients. Ever. You either get that, or I get gone.”
