Humor bursts in Rem’s eyes. He doesn’t laugh. His body is still locked in fight mode. But for a moment his eyes brighten, and I see little lines flare to the sides. He’slaughingat me andfuckif it doesn’t make me hate him and want him more.
“Stuck, huh? That problem is easily solved.”
I watch, heart in throat, as Rem draws my ring finger into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it, bathing me in wet heat and I can’t stop the moan that slips from my chest. His teeth circle the base of my finger. He’s going to use them to pull the ring off.
That ring is the one tangible thing that ties me to Rem and, suddenly, it feels like the only thing anchoring me to any chance of survival. Suddenly, I don’t want him taking it. “Stop. Don’t.” I pull my finger free from his mouth, steady my voice, and try to find some logic in all this madness. “Why did you put it on me in the first place?”
“Simple.” It’s clear by Rem’s expression that he really thinks it is. “It’s the best way I could think of to keep you safe.”
“Explain that to me—you don’t trust me, don’t evenknowme, and you want to keep me safe?”
Rem doesn’t shrug. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t try to make a joke. “Somebody has to.”
It’s like a hammer slamming the head of a nail. A truth pounded painfully home.
I need help staying safe. Someone wants me dead. Rem stopped that from happening last night. He stepped in again today when the Russian man accosted me. I could go to the police, but what would they really be able to do? They can investigate but I have no evidence of who is trying to kill me or why. They certainly can’t give me a place to stay.
And with Aunt Mable dead…
Oh, God. Aunt Mable. I haven’t even had a chance to process what happened to Aunt Mable, to mourn losing her. Or fully comprehend the fact that I was supposed to be in her house when the explosion happened.
I need to find out what happened to her and why.
I need to find out who is trying to kill me and why.
And I need to be alive to do it.
I look at the man crowding me onto my own kitchen counter. Reallylookat him. He’s so solid, so unbending. The kind of man who can break a storm just by standing in its way. The power he wields with his body and mental will is unmistakable. I saw that when he fended off the Russian. When he pulled me to the ground and shielded me from bullets. When he hauled me off the floor as I fell apart.
From the second we met in my apartment, he’s been a bully and so goddamn bossy. But from one second later, he’s also protected me in a way no one else has.
There is no denying Rem is a threat. In so many ways. I’m just as aware of the mouth-watering size of his dick as I am of the enormous knife concealed at his waist and the gun tucked at his back. I don’t have a shred of doubt that he can wield them all expertly.
He’s dangerous, any idiot can see that. But at the rate I’m going, just being alive is dangerous.
Forget what I thought this morning. At this point I might just need the devil I know to help fight against the ones I don’t.
10
LENA
Iwake up in a strange place for the second time in two days. This time it’s the middle of the night, no sunlight to scare away the shadows. Nor the smell of Bianca’s homemade quiche to conceal the scent of cedar and sandalwood that lingers on the sheets next to me.
Rem was here.
I push up, brushing my hair out of my face and reminding myself that of course Rem was here.
This is Rem’s apartment.
After our sexually fraught standoff in my place, I agreed to come to his apartment to get some rest. We re-bandaged my side, with my shirt buttoned this time, breasts hidden away as I held up the necessary fabric for Rem to get the job done.
Everything after that happened with shocking efficiency. Rem salvaged a sweater from one of the shredded piles, wrapping me in it until he could get me into the car and tuck me into a blanket, which Johnny conjured from thin air.
Neither man commented when my stomach growled loudly. Rem just motioned to Johnny to swing by a nearby drivethrough and I ate my weight in burgers and fries as we drove in silence to a very exclusive part of town.
Even with the onset of a fast-food coma, I noticed the gates and key codes and security cameras protecting our progress from the street through the parking garage and up the private elevator into Rem’s apartment.
Penthouse is more accurate.