She quirked a brow. “About as much as any Guild mercenary, almost nothing. Secrecy and mystery is sort of their main objective, isn’t it?”
I flashed a smile. She wasn’t wrong about that. But I was feeling strangely compelled to share a little of that mystery with this bewitching woman in my bed. Even if it did end up biting me in the ass later, right now there wasn’t much I wouldn’t share, if she kept looking at me with those big, interested eyes of hers.
“Right. Well… do you want to know more?” Why was I offering this? I should be strangling the life out of her and wiping her clean out of my mind. Focusing on my job. But no, here I was drinking in her sleepy smiles and living for every breath. Here I was, ready to spill the kind of secrets that have protected the Guild for hundreds of years. Was this what it meant to be pussy-whipped?
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you ask, Marx. Of course I want to know. Are you kidding?”
I grinned. What the fuck was this strange emotion curling through my chest? It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was definitely unusual. “Okay, you twisted my arm.” I propped my head up on my hand, turning onto my side to face her better. “The Circle, you already know, has seven seats of power. They’re handed down through bloodlines, because like all ancient secret societies, the Guild is fueled by wankery and bullshit. DNA is more important than competency.”
She blinked at me. “What a smart business model.”
“Agreed,” I muttered in response. “Although most of the Circle are competent right now. One or two are likely to be killed by their heirs soon, but that’s inevitable when power is passed by blood. But that’s beside the point. The Mercenary Guild has grown so large over the years that it made sense for the Circle to split up the responsibilities somewhat. So each Circle member is directly responsible for certain groupings of mercenaries, roughly assigned based on geography. Emmanuel Blanchet is the one who you work for.”
Her brows hitched. “And he wants me dead? That can’t be a good thing.”
I couldn’t stop touching her. I traced my fingertips across her alabaster flesh, tracing the lace of her tattoo, then circling the freshly healed scar on her side from the gunshot in Prague. I wanted to repeat the gesture with my tongue and lips. I wanted to worship at the altar of Danny DeLuna.
“Yes and no,” I replied when I finally dragged my focus back to her face. “It wasn’t an official kill order.”
She wet her puffy lips, her tongue inviting me to kiss her so much that I needed to tense my jaw to keep from pouncing on her.
“So… what does that mean?” she asked, the confusion clear on her face. “Why wouldn’t it be official?”
“Because kill orders on Guild assets need to be approved by more than one Circle seat. The Guild puts too much time, effort, and money into assets to just kill them off on a whim. Which means Blanchet either couldn’t get anyone to support his request, or he didn’t even ask. Either way, if it’s not official, then I have no obligation to follow through.”
Her spine stiffened under my fingers, and her gaze turned sharp and accusing. “You? You’re the one he asked to… oh my fucking god, you’re an executioner?” She scrambled to sit up, but there was no fear in her gaze.
I lay back into the pillow, drinking in the sight of her full, perky tits with those pale pink nipples just begging me to touch them. The delicate ink decorating the base of her sternum was perfectly positioned. Her messy, well-fucked white hair draped around her shoulders like something straight out of a Michelangelo, and my dick hardened once more. The dressing patch on her throat where I’d cut her only added to the perfection.
“Yeah, I am,” I replied casually, linking my arms behind my head, paying no mind to the way the sheet rose up. “Is that a problem?”
She blinked at me, like she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or scream. Then raked a hand through her tangled mane of hair. “It’s only a problem if you’re still planning on killing me.” She paused, locking eyes with me. “Are you?”
I took my time to consider her question. For some reason, I felt an insatiable urge to tell her the truth, to stop hiding my true self. Whoever the fuck that was. So I really thought about her question, rather than tossing out an empty platitude.
“No,” I finally responded. “Not tonight, anyway.”
She wrinkled her adorable nose, then shrugged. “Fair enough.”
Amusement rippled through me, but excitement quickly surpassed when she tugged the bed clothes down and straddled me. My hard cock nestled against her hot pussy, and I gave a low groan of appreciation.
She rocked against me, teasing, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “If you think I’m falling asleep around you, though, you’re deluded. No offense, Leon, but”—she paused, rising up on her knees to grasp my erection in her hand, guiding me to her opening—“I don’t trust you.”
The air escaped my lungs in a whoosh as she sank down onto my dick, taking me in one movement despite how tight the fit was. “I’d be disappointed if you did,” I admitted when I caught my breath. “So I guess we just have to stay awake. Whatever will we do?”
She gave a soft groan, bracing her hands on my tensed abs as she rose and fell slowly, teasingly. “I think this is a good start,” she whispered in a husky, sex-drenched voice that went straight to my dick. Goddamn, she was worse than any addiction. Somehow, I sensed she could easily be the death of me, too.
Now, she’d challenged me, though, and I was determined to fuck her so good she wouldn’t be able to keep those beautiful sapphire eyes open a moment longer.
As it turned out, I was the one who fell asleep first. My plan backfired, and she fucked me into a deep, dreamless sleep. The kind of restful sleep that I hadn’t had… maybe ever? I certainly didn’t remember ever sleeping so well. When I woke, my muscles ached in the most amazing way. My dick tented the sheets, rock hard, and a warm feeling filled my chest.
“Danny,” I mumbled, reaching out for her with just one eyelid cracked. I needed to touch her skin, to feel her breath on my lips, to know that she was still here with me.
But the bed beside me was empty and cold, and I sat up with a heavy sense of dread.
“DeLuna!” I shouted, but she didn’t respond. Of course she didn’t. She’d waited until I had fallen asleep… and left.
I wasn’t even mad about it, either. She was a mercenary, raised by the Guild. Her actions were like that of a frightened animal, slinking away silently and running for safety. Of course, I knew better than any that she was no mere house cat. Danny DeLuna was a predator, but so was I.
She must surely know, the game had only just started between us.
Smiling, I climbed out of bed and sauntered into my bathroom to shower but pulled up short when I saw the mirror.
“Shit,” I murmured, my pulse racing with excitement, “now you’re just teasing, DeLuna.”
On the mirror, she’d left me a very clear message. Or so it may seem.
Leon,
This was fun, but lose my number. You’ll never see me again.
x Danny
She’d signed off with an imprint of her lips, and it did all kinds of delicious things to my emotions. It was a challenge, obviously. She was running, but she wanted me to chase her.
I took a closer look at the writing, touching a finger to the ink. Then I brought it to my mouth.
Fuck. She’d written it in blood, the sick bitch.
My dick hardened like stone. Even more so when I spotted the freshly applied dressing on my thigh. She hadn’t written it in her own blood, she’d used mine. And somehow managed to cut me without ever waking me up.
Oh yeah. I was coming for her… No way in hell was I walking away from a woman who was clearly my soul mate. We were fucking fated.
3
The solid smack of leather gloves hitting the heavy bag soothed my frayed nerves slightly, but I still carried tension between my shoulder blades that held me on a knife’s edge day and night.
“Maybe he decided to let it go?” Jude suggested when we took a break. She was breathing heavily, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead, and I grinned.
“You need to get down here more often, Mackenzie; you’re puffing like an old lady.” I tugged my own boxing gloves off and grabbed my bottle of water. I wasn’t going to address her suggestion that Leon had decided to let it go. That wasn’t even remotely a possibility. Not for him… or me.