Page 34 of Captive Audience
That didn’t make sense. Rook was a hot billionaire. He could literally snap his fingers and there’d be a mile-long line of women ready to enthusiastically squealI do.
The more likely scenario was that he’d gone off his meds.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“Because I need your help.”
“Strange way to go about it when you could just ask.”
“But if I explained what I needed help with, you’d figure out I’m a bad man and say no.”
I swallowed hard. “What kind of bad man?”
“The worst kind.”
Nausea churned in my gut when my mind jumped to every horror-filled conclusion it could. In my line of work, I saw the worst humanity had to offer. If Rook was someone like that, I was in more trouble than I’d thought.
“Do you hurt people?”
“Aye.”
“Kill them?”
He didn’t even blink. “Do you really want an answer to that?”
I didn’t. Looking at Rook’s wide shoulders, broad chest, and bulging biceps with a different perspective, I knew exactly what he was.
My stomach twisted. Bile rose up my throat. Jesus Christ. I’d spent the night wrapped around a murderer.
Touched him. Moaned his name.
Beggedfor him.
Those tattooed hands that had ravished me could just as easily have strangled me.
He stepped closer, and I flinched. It caused something to falter in his hard expression. A brief flicker of the man who’d treated me like his queen last night.
What a fool I’d been not to see through his lies and manipulation.
I shifted back. “I’m going home now.”
“Leaving would be a mistake.”
“I strongly disagree.”
“Don’t you at least want to hear me out?”
“Or what? You’ll kill me?”
A flash of some emotion crossed his features and disappeared just as fast.
Voice low and deadly calm, he said, “I’m a bossy bastard with a short fuse and few morals. I can be ruthless, merciless, and I will do whatever it takes to have things my way. I’m all the things you surely hate in a man and then some. But I promise, Asha, I’ll never lay a hand on you in anger. I’ll never hurt you like that.”
My skin prickled. Every instinct screamedRun. But…there was something in the way he said my name and vowed not to hurt me that took the edge off my anxiety.
I believed him. I had absolutely no reason to, but I did.
Don’t be stupid. He’s a lunatic. A well-dressed, muscled lunatic.
