Page 803 of One More Kiss

Carefully slipping the blade flush against the delicate skin of her inner wrist, I twisted the knife, snapping the zip tie. I then did the same to her other wrist and her ankles.

Without hesitation, she bolted from the chair and sprinted for the door.

She really was the most adorable little captive.

As Avery tugged on the locked heavy metal door, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small ring of keys. Holding my arm high, I rattled them.

Her gaze darted from the keys in my hand to the Glock strapped to my side, poking out from beneath the hem of my black T-shirt. She ran the perimeter of the room, searching for a way out.

There was none.

The only way she was getting out of here was through me.

Avery raised her arms and banged her fists against the glass of one of the windows. “Help! Help me! Somebody help me.”

I could just imagine my men, who were guarding the outside of the building, glancing up in amusement at her plight. As she tried to run past me a second time, I’d had enough. She was going to wear herself out, and I needed her at full strength for later.

Grasping her upper arm as she passed, I swung her around till her back connected with one of the wide timber columns that crisscrossed the warehouse floor. My body followed, pinning her against the column. She raised her arms to fight, but I easily captured both her wrists in my left hand. Careful to avoid the red scratch marks caused by the zip ties, I stretched her arms over her head, securing her within my embrace.

My right hand wrapped around her throat, silencing her cries. A tear slipped down her cheek. Without thinking, I leaned in and flicked my tongue over the high arch of her cheek, tasting the salty tear.

She gasped, bringing my attention to her mouth. I stared at it for several heartbeats, denying my own savage urges. Now was not the time. I knew if I kissed her, I would fuck her right against this column in this filthy warehouse. If she had been any other woman, I wouldn’t have hesitated, but there was something different about Avery. Unique. Her sweetness called to me like a drug.

Heat and fear gave her exposed skin a shimmering glisten. A single bead of sweat slipped over her collarbone to trail between her breasts. I unbuttoned the first pearl button on her dress.

Avery whimpered as she turned her head and rose on her toes in a futile attempt to escape my embrace. Undeterred, I unbuttoned a second button, then a third, exposing the pastel pink lace of her bra. As I suspected, the lace cupped her curves with no additional padding. She really was a natural beauty with no artificial enhancement or artifice. I unbuttoned a fourth button. Her sundress fell open almost to the waist.

I flicked the tip of my tongue between her breasts.

She begged prettily for me to stop. “Please, don’t.”

Ignoring her plea, I said, “Tell me about Angelo Mourelli.”

“Who?”

Cupping her right breast, I squeezed her flesh, hard.

“Ow. Ow. That hurts.”

“Then stop lying to me. Now focus, baby. Angelo Mourelli.”

Her eyelids fluttered as she blinked back tears. “The name sounds familiar.”

I traced the inner curve of her left breast with my tongue. “Keep thinking.”

“Yes. Yes, I know him. He’s come to Mr. Russo’s office several times.”

Angelo Mourelli, otherwise referred to as The Accountant, was the man Russo hired to stash the one hundred and fifty million he'd stolen from me. I was certain of it. No other man on earth was capable of laundering that quantity quickly. The problem was, Mourelli was a ghost. Mourelli wasn’t his real name, and very few had ever seen his face. No photos of him existed. He never used computers or cellphones. Rumor had it he didn’t even write anything down. The man apparently had a photographic memory, capable of keeping countless lines of numbers and data in his head. It was one of the reasons his special talent was in such high demand. And the primary reason why I had to get my hands on the man himself.

Through very bloody means, I’d learned he would be in attendance at a wedding tonight at the Drake Hotel. I had also learned that Russo had been a close friend of Mourelli’s from childhood and one of the few people who knew his face… which meant there was a good chance Russo’s pretty office manager had seen it, too.

I pressed my hips against her stomach, wanting her to feel the threat of my hard cock. “Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

She tilted her head to the side, giving me access to her smooth throat. “He always wore a fedora and sunglasses. He’s a very strange man. He wore black leather gloves even in the summer and would never take them off. He’d be in the office with Mr. Russo for hours and never eat or drink anything.”

That definitely sounded like the man I was after. He was paranoid about leaving any trace of his fingerprints or DNA anywhere.

I ran my lips over her neck, then bit her earlobe. “Think, cara mia. Your life depends on it. Did you ever glimpse his face, even once?”

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