Temperance, the woman I knew I shouldn’t have touched, stands in front of me trying to comprehend the bomb I just dropped into her lap. A ticking time bomb, much like the one Mount tossed at me all those years ago. It never blew up in my face, but I know this one will.
“I took a contract to kill your brother. A half million. I have thirty days to complete it before it goes back out to bid.”
Her eyes narrow and her posture goes rigid. “You piece-of-shit motherfucker!” She charges forward, bending to slam her shoulder into me like a linebacker. Someone should have told her not to try hand-to-hand combat with a man trained in it by the best.
I reach around her body to subdue her, but I underestimate just how wiry and agile she is as she twists and reaches for something on the coffee table.
The last thing I want is for her to go for a gun I haven’t already found and unloaded. Who knew one woman would be so heavily armed? Then again, considering who her brother is, I’m not all that surprised.
But she doesn’t go for a gun. She slaps the wood, palming a pen, and slashes it toward my jugular.
“Jesus fucking Christ, woman.” I shackle her wrist with one hand and twist her arms in front of her body, squeezing until she has no choice but to drop the pen.
“I’m going to kill you!”
“You’re not the first person to say that, and you sure as hell won’t be the last.”
“Yes, I will be, because I’m not going to fail.” She snarls the words as I lock her hands in front of her waist, trapping her.
“You about done?”
It’s the wrong question to ask. Temperance throws her head back, slamming it into my chin before sweeping my legs out from under me. We both go down hard on the wood floor.
She attempts to crawl away from me, but I grab one of the rips in the knees of her jeans to slow her down. It tears further as she kicks at my face.
“Calm the fuck down.”
Again, the wrong thing to say to a woman bent on homicide. Her head swivels like she’s looking for another weapon, and I use her momentary inattention to launch myself over her, landing chest to chest.
She lets out a scream that would make an Amazon proud. She swings a hammer fist toward the side of my head, and I catch her wrists in either hand and pin them to the floor.
“Let me go,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Not gonna happen.”
“Then kill me, because that’s the only way you’ll be able to walk the streets without looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. I’ll never quit hunting you.”
The vehemence in her tone takes me by surprise—as does the fact that her threats make me rock hard.
“You’re sexy as fuck when you’re threatening to end me.”
Her nostrils flare, and for the third time in as many minutes, I realize I’ve said the wrong thing.
This is what happens when you’ve spent more time in your own head than talking to people in the last fifteen years. My social skills, which were never great, have gone to shit. I’m usually content to grunt or type my response to someone’s question, but Temperance has fucked up my life in more ways than she realizes.
She bucks her hips, no doubt trying to get me off her, but all she does is grind my hard dick into her crotch.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Her furious brown eyes narrow. “You’ll never get away with this. I don’t care who you are. Once Mount finds out,he’ll destroy you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Mount already knows.”
Her face blanches, like all the blood has drained away. “What?” she whispers, blinking several times in rapid succession. “That ... that’s not possible.”
“I told him when he called, asking me to come.”
“But—”